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hyunsuks-beanie · 3 years

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Yeonjun SFW Alphabet

Mellow speaks: And here we are with the next SFW alphabet. As requested by the lovely anon, it's my bub Yeonjun this time! Hope you enjoy reading this, and lemme know if you liked it!

A = Affection

(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Yeonjun is so affectionate that even the word "affection" would shy away. He always needs to have his arms around you, some form of contact is mandatory. Whether it be his arm loosely draped around your shoulders or your waist, or your head resting on his lap, or even just your pinkies entwined as you go for a walk.

He's always one to vocally express his love for you, so expect daily proclamations of how lucky he is to have you. He's one to constantly show you off to everyone he meets, whether it's the members, his parents, or even the friendly cashier at the convenience store. He knows he scored by getting you to date him, and he wont shy away from gushing about it.

B = Best friend

(What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He would be the most protective best friend ever! Expect him to always have your back and be ready to kill anyone that so much as says a mean word to you. He'll stick with you through thick and thin, and while he would definitely never pass up on any chance to tease and annoy the hell out of you, deep down, he cares about nothing and nobody more than he cares for you.

C = Cuddles

(Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He's the biggest cuddle bug you'll ever find, and if he were to have his way, he'd remain clinging to you 25/8. He loves having your face squished into his chest, it makes him feel like he can protect you. He refuses to let you sit by yourself without at least throwing your legs over his lap, and that also applies to moments when you're with the members. If you're in public and he can't have you all to himself, he'll insist on having his arm around you form, pulling you flush into his side.

He loves to be the big spoon when you sleep, and you're not one to complain, since his body feels like your own personal comforter.

D = Domestic

(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He'd be all to settle down with you the moment he realizes that what he feels for you is love. He's naturally a very caring person, and the very idea of having a family of his own and spending all his days with his special someone makes him giddy inside. Of course, settling down doesn't necessarily mean getting married, and he seems like someone who wouldn't mind the labels as long as both of you are happy. That being said, he would love to marry you if that's what you want.

Household chores are no biggie for him, especially since he's already used to taking care of the members. And doing those chores with you? Add that to the list of his favorite things.

E = Ending

(If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would feel really guilty if he were the one to break up with you, and while he was afraid to face you, he would know you deserve a proper apology and a proper reason. He would try his best to save things, but if that doesn't seem possible, the he will decide to let you go, for your own happiness.

But that doesn't mean it would be clean and short. There would be a lot of tears involved, and a lot of heartbreak. It would hurt him if he had to see you cry, and since he himself cries very easily, it would not be a pretty sight.

F = Fiance(e)

(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As I said, he would be all for settling down with you once he's got his feelings sorted, provided that's what you want. Expect the proposal to be one giant romantic gesture, and once you're engaged, he would like you to take your sweet time before getting married. "We only get to do it once," he'd say, wanting everything to be perfect for your special day.

G = Gentle

(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Most of the time, Yeonjun is very gentle with you. He would make it a point to never hurt you physically, and would always be careful of his words. But arguments can turn ugly if both sides lose their temper, and he might end up saying something harsh that he would be sure to regret later. Once he calms down though, expect a string of apologies coming your way as he beats himself up for losing his temper and hurting you.

H = Hugs

(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Being as clingy as he can be, Yeonjun needs to be hugging you every second he has with you. His hugs are warm and full of love (if somewhat bone-crushing), and he loves to completely engulf your form, his hand softly patting your head as you muffle your face into his chest (again, something that he insists you always do).

I = I love you

(How fast do they say the L-word?)

Once he realizes that he's in love with you, he would be super quick to tell you how he feels, not wanting to hide the fact from you a second longer than he needs to. He would most likely realize he loves you as he silently watches you doing whatever, eating, talking to someone, watching TV, or reading a book. He'd just look at you, and suddenly, it would be like everything fades away and it's only you. That's when he would know, and before he can stop himself, the L-word would slip out his mouth.

J = Jealousy

(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Yeonjun gets jealous very easily, and wants your attention to be on him 24/7. It's not like he doesn't trust you, it's just that he considers your love and your attention to be reserved for him and him only. He's pretty obvious when jealous too, becoming extra clingy as he glares daggers at the person who's distracting you away from him.

If you decide to tease him further and continue to ignore him though, good luck to you because boy would get so mad (not in a bad way obviously).

K = Kisses

(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Every single one of his kisses, from the small pecks on your cheeks to the lazier and sloppier kisses on your lips, is full to the brim with his love and adoration for you. He likes to cup your cheeks all of a sudden when you're talking, placing his lips onto yours to shut you up. He pulls you flush into his chest as his lips move in sync with yours, and he can't help but let out a satisfied smile when you kiss him back.

Likewise, he loves it when you catch by surprise, kissing him out of the blue. He really likes laying his head in your lap and having you place an occasional kiss on his forehead as you stroke his hair.

L = Little ones

(How are they around children?)

He's surprisingly good at handling children, and often tells you how great of a dad he will be to your kids......something that never fails to turn you into a blushing mess.

But if you're the one playing with the kids, expect him to get jealous very soon, and before you know it, a new kid will have joined your party.....a very tall and very pouty one.

M = Morning

(How are mornings spent with them?)

On his days off, Yeonjun refuses to let you get out of bed, continuing to hold you close as he muzzles his face into your neck or your hair. He'd rather you stay in all day, just talking about anything and everything as he continues to admire you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

N = Night

(How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Yeonjun are spent cuddling together under the duvets, talking about random things and just basking in each other's presence. He loves intertwining your hands together, playing with your fingers as you tell him about your day. Late night snacks are a regular ritual, and you often sit under the duvet, the light from your phones illuminating your faces as you eat.

O = Open

(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He's always worn his heart on his sleeve, and has never been one to shy away from telling you about himself. He's just the type to make small quirks about him known, like the fact that he loves being praised, or that he's a huge flirt. He's always been straightforward, and you've come to appreciate the way he speaks his mind.

P = Patience

(How easily angered are they?)

As whiny as he may be, Yeonjun has an incredibly high patience level (all thanks to Beomgyu), and so, it's a rarity to find him truly angry at anyone, and especially at you. He loves you far too much to find anything you do a bother, and on the contrary, he actually finds your little quirks extremely adorable.

That being said, boy still gets annoyed pretty easily if that's your goal, and he will not pass up on any chance to be playfully mean to you as a form of payback for the last time you got on his nerves.

Q = Quizzes

(How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He puts in a lot of effort to remember everything you tell him, whether it's something you said in passing or something you explicitly told him about. He always pays attention when you say something, and so, it's not rare to find him getting you the exact same phone cover you had told him about two days ago, or the very album you had been gushing about to your friend the other day.

R = Remember

(What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He cherishes every moment he has with you, but his favorite by a long shot are the lazy afternoons and late nights when you're cuddled on the couch, watching a movie. He loves when you're curled up into his side, your head on his chest as he rakes a hand through your hair. And the only thing that can make it even better is if you fall asleep on him, a small smile gracing your lips as you dream of something. He could continue watching you for hours, just taking in how beautiful you are to him.

S = Security

(How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Yeonjun is fiercely protective of you, and will not hesitate to obliterate any person who ever hurts you or makes you uncomfortable. Someone troubling you when he's around? He'll be next to you in a heartbeat, his arm around your waist (duh), as he shoots daggers at the person who's the reason you're uncomfortable. He often gets too carried away in his role, and you have to step in and pull him away, afraid he'll get arrested or something.

Protecting him is mostly a thing only when Beomgyu and Taehyun are annoying him, and he likes to hide behind you and whine as you try to put on a stern demeanor, despite cracking up inside.

T = Try

(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He takes his relationships very seriously, and if it's it's romantic one, then that calls for even more effort. So expect him to remember ever teensy tiny detail and ever every date, from the major ones like when you first met and your anniversary, or the smaller ones like when you first went to the movies.

He's also one to splurge out quite a lot on gifts, some grand and some small but special nonetheless. He loves giving gifts to the people he loves, so please always cherish whatever he gives you. He makes it a point to show you just how much he loves you, either through words or through actions, and never fails to make you feel appreciated.

U = Ugly

(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Being too hard on himself. Yeonjun has always been one to put way too much effort into everything, and being the perfectionist that he is, he is never satisfied with himself, no matter how many times you, or others, tell him he's doing great. He takes all his titles a bit too seriously, which often results in him pushing himself too hard. And that's when he needs you around, to help keep him in check when he refuses to take care of himself.

V = Vanity

(How concerned are they with their looks?)

Life is a runway for this one, and being an idol, he's extremely conscious about how he looks and what he wears. He's much more into fashion than he's into make-up though, so expect him to be dressed like a model from head to toe with a mask covering his sleepy face. Staying at home is no excuse for looking unpresentable either, or so he says.

If you're into fashion too, then expect him to drag you to the mall at least once a months, just so you can keep up with all the recent trends. He won't force you to dress up if you're not interested though, but he'll be more than happy to give in his tips and input.

W = Whole

(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yeonjun can't help but be a sad mess when you're not around. And by "not around," I can't mean you having broken up with him. Even if you're just waiting for him at home as he finishes up dance practice, he just doesn't feel right, knowing that the only thing that can complete him is having you close. That's why tours are especially difficult for him, because while he loves meeting his fans and performing for them, there's nothing he can do about that empty void inside him. That's something only you can fill, and he longs for the day he gets to hold you again.

X = Xtra

(A random headcanon for them.)

You often find yourselves in hilarious situations when going on walks due to Yeonjun's habit of having his arm thrown around your shoulders. He loves talking, and often proceeds to talk your ear off as you roam the streets, not taking notice of the fact that you've stopped walking, planting your feet on the pavement. It often results in him being pulled back (and you being pulled forward) because his arm is always around your shoulder. It never fails to annoy him, something that satisfies you to no extent.

Y = Yuck

(What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone who tries to change him or doesn't understand his personality or beliefs would be a huge no-no for Yeonjun. He always tries to be as genuine as he can be, even on camera, and he would prefer to have someone who can appreciate him for who he is.

Z = Zzz

(What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He often ends up throwing his legs over yours in sleep, something that can end up leaving your own legs sore in the morning despite feeling like a cute gesture. Since he insists on having your face snuggled in his chest while you sleep, he often keeps his chin over your head, completely engulfing you. He's "protecting you from the demons," he likes to say as an excuse for it.

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lath-ara-ara · 3 years

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Mga ka-tropa {Childe,Tohma + Scaramouche}

Synopsis: What your everyday life looks like with your Barkada (Squad)

- Head canon, Fluff, School AU, Based off of my experience I guess lol (I don't have many friends I just watch my classmates--), Mentions of NSFW jokes

- Filipino Reader, Taglish swearing dialogues

____________________________________________________

- They're the worst, but also the best and ya'll just vibe

Childe

- The rich kid who insists on paying for the food you buy

- Every time in class, he'd tap on your shoulder from where he sat and act like he's paying attention to the teacher whenever you turn to glare at him. Gives subtle side glances and finds your pissed expression hilarious

- The type to place cold drinks against your cheek out of nowhere

"Yah!!? Gago, Ajax-- can you fucking stop!?" You hissed, earning a chuckle from the lad

"It's not that cold, ha-ha"

- You ignored him for the rest of the class which caused him to buy you one of your favorite snacks as he pleads for you to stop giving him the cold shoulder. He's still gonna do it again, but he won't mind buying more food for you (Win-win I suppose)

- His grades are fairly average, but still insists you tutor him. He'll drag Thoma in one of your study sessions to make you accept his request.

- You have a soft spot for Tohma and he takes advantage of it

- He calls you "Ate" as a joke, but it eventually became a natural thing for the both of you

"Ate, when's the deadline for the assignment that Ma'am gave us again?"

- Whether you're older than him or not, he has taken a liking to the Honorific

- You once fell asleep in class and was the only person inside the room, when he arrived, he immediately snapped a few pics of your drooling face before blasting "Never gonna give you up" from the Bluetooth speaker he owns

"D-did you just.. Fucking 'Rick roll' me awake..?"

"Yeah. Pretty hilarious in my opinion,"

- He has Tiktok and forces you all to join his shenanigans

- If he can't annoy you, then he'll annoy Scaramouche. You don't know how, but he got him to be accidentally sent to the elementary department's floor, which made a teacher think he's a 4th grade student.

- He got a lotta bumps in the head from the angry gremlin later on

Tohma

- The goodie two shoes friend and also the teacher's errand boy (next to Aether/Lumine)

- I feel like he has a collection of different bandana's/Headband's with all kinds of designs. He once got you a bear themed headband for your birthday

- Often gets in trouble with Childe (and the rest of you gets into trouble as well) so you all get to clean the classroom

- Kind of the mom friend but not really. Maybe it's the fact that he often notices small things about you and the others. Like the fact that he knows about your obsession with sweet/salty foods, The fact that he knows about Childe's soft spot for whales and that Scaramouche always puts aesthetic shades of eye shadow. He has fun with you all and always points out your small habits that he finds adorable.

- All his pencils are chewed and chucked, and you once thought a dog did that. He often bites into them when he's bored or just in a random trance, you had to stop him before he could finish the whole thing.

"Tohma snap out of it! You're gonna scarf the whole thing at this point!!"

"h-huh..!?" The moment he noticed the bite marks all over the wooden object he only laughed it off. Later on he didn't notice he was chewing it again, which caused it to snap. You let him borrow yours and he made sure not to bite into them this time.

- Though.. you later on find a few nibbles on the top part of the pen, making you sigh

-You bought him a set of Chewable pencil toppers and he was ecstatic to say the least.

- Whenever you guys go to the gym for P.E he always gets hit in the head with the ball, he doesn't know why. The next day he brought a helmet to school and that made Childe go into a fit of laughter

- When he got hit by a ball sometime in P.E, he actually got badly injured, so you both went into the infirmary to treat his injured forehead.

"Punyeta. Why can't those 4th grader brats just stay on their side of the Gym? this shit always happens to you" You scowled as you tend to his wound

"Ha-ha.. even if they were on their side, I doubt the ball won't hit me" He sighs with a sheepish smile

- Has Tiktok as well, but the reason is to like most of Childe's Videos (very supportive friend lol)

- The escort of your class (And Ayaka was the class muse)

- He often get's into those Class Pageant contests (and the UN themed ones as well). He has a wardrobe filled with all the costumes he used lol

"Hold still Tohma! That get up looks great beside the vending machine," Childe cackles as he takes pictures of the blonde

"LMAO-- He's literally in a sparkling suit- HA HAHA" you mirrored his actions, taking out your phone. He plays along, posing with each snap of the camera's, while Scaramouche just deadpans at you three's antics.

Scaramouche

- The Sassy Honor student

- He's cold and snappy to everyone, including you. But don't worry, he warmed up eventually, though he still acts a teensy bit cold towards you.

- You guys were seat buddies while he and Childe were on the same club

- He trusts you to do his eyeshadow so you often both do each other's makeup (It's not allowed in campus so you both have glasses to slightly hide your eye makeup, matching glasses of course.

- He has a small taser keychain in his school ID and bag, and once threatened Ajax with it (He kept calling him short)

- Whenever your group goes out to eat you both get Drinks (Boba) together while Childe and Tohma goes ahead and buy Fish balls (lol)

- He once got a bad grade for the first time and he kept brushing it off whenever people ask about it, but you know that's not how he actually feels

"Hey Scara.. You sure you're ok? " You asked, when the both of you were alone in the classroom.

That's all it took for him to sigh and lean against your shoulder, mumbling a small "No"

It shocked you, but proceeded to place your hand on top of his crown to comfort him, after a few seconds of the both of you sitting in comfortable silence, he speaks up again

"Not a word about this. Or else I'll tase you."

"Sheesh, sunget naman" You giggled

- He sometimes uses you as an arm stand, it doesn't matter if you're taller or shorter, He'll stand on top of a chair just to lay his elbow on your head and he smirks down at you whenever you tell him to get it off, you couldn't convince him to, so you just accepted your fate.

- You were both often the sarcastic duo of your group and would always retort mean insults to the ginger (As a joke though, you three insult each other as friend of course.)

- Intellectual insults, brought to you by our favorite sassy boi

What the squad is like

- Ajax and Scaramouche are your classic Volleyball players and LMAO- they're basically Kageyama and Hinata in reverse

"The fuck kinda serve was that?" The red head teases

"Shut up you orange tree"

"Well, at least no one ever assumes I'm a 4th grader~"

"THE FUCK YOU SAY YOU IMBECILE!?" He snaps, hitting the ball with a strong slap when it reached over the net. And because he was out of focus, that ball ended up landing into Tohma who was cheering in the sidelines with you

"T-Tohma!!!" you shrieked as his soul starts to leave his body

- Whenever Scaramouche is very fired up in a game,you and Tohma would cheer and chant at him with these specific words;

"Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Will you do the Fandango!? ~"

- He tells you to stop cause it's embarrassing, but you don't and he honestly secretly enjoys it

- Your squad would sometimes ask Tohma to buy some snacks in the cafeteria (With Childe paying lol) and at this point he's carrying a reusable bag as if he were going to the market

"Eh? Tohma, why do you have that bag with you?" A student asks "Are you going to the market?.. But School's still going.."

"Oh, this? Ha-ha nah! I'm just going to the cafeteria"

- The Cafeteria staff kinda got used to the same orders he'd often list out so they just dump them in the bag and Tohma gives them the cash with a simple thank you as if it was a routine (Hm, maybe it already is)

- When all of you would hang out, out of school you'd go to the arcade and it takes Childe a whole minute or two in the Claw machine. You almost got banned because kept cursing so loudly (there were little kids around)

- You and Scaramouche would play shooting games and holy shit he's good-

-You asked him if he ever had experiences in actual guns and he responded with;

"Oh, no. I just envision the targets as that Idiot who can't get anything from the Claw machine" He points at Childe

"HEY!"

- Childe and Tohma would battle through DDR and it either ends with a tie or you and Scara having to drag them out cause it was getting late.

-Lots of prizes earned and Childe swore he was close to buying the entire claw machine (Damn rich boi--)

- At the end of the day, all you three would get your preferred drinks as you all gaze at the nearest beach sunset. (You had the classic soda and straw in a bag of course)

- Whenever you plan, get together's like these, you always looked forward to them

- But let's say hypothetically that your parents are strict or didn't let you join them this time, well bestie, it's either they wont go and reschedule or kidnap you lmao

- Childe asked you to come outside of your house and the moment you did, you were met by a car and a laughing Childe and Tohma who carried you bridal style towards the vehicle

"Pukeng ina-- Mom's gonna kill me!!" you laughed into the gingers arms, hitting him playfully

"Quick Tohma!" He calls out to the boy, getting inside the car as he still holds onto you "Drive bitch! drive!!"

- By the time you got home you almost got banned from ever hanging out with them (You got grounded though LMAO)

- Your Group chat's are filled with chaos.

-Memes, Arguments (Scara and Childe) and Assignment answers were the contents of your chats

Tortang talong: [Bitch]

Fandak-go: [Bitcher]

Mama's boi: [Guys can someone send me today's assignments?]

Tortang talong: [*Sends a rick roll*]

Fandak-go: [That's like the 100th time you've sent the same joke as before.]

Fandak-go: [You're so fucking Un-original]

Tortang talong: [Please.]

Tortang talong: [ Compare my sense of humor to yours and you'll see how superior I'am to you]

Mama's boi: Guys, please :"D

Fandak-go: [Superior to me?]

Fandak-go: [Like that'll ever happen.]

Tortang talong: [My level is higher than yours, considering your height-]

Fandak-go: [I'll fucking strangle you.]

Tortang-talong: [I'd like to see you try and reach my head.]

Cult master: [Bitchest]

Cult master: [Awe- I'm too late XC]

Mama's boi: [Y/n help- please-]

Cult master: [Oki hun, what do u need?]

Cult master: [Holy shit wait- we have assignments!?]

- You're a group of chaotic idiots

- But at least you're all in it together and that's what matters<3

Translations

Gago = Stupid/Idiot

Ate = Older sister/ Can be also used as an honorific for women who are a bit older than you

Punyeta = Asshole

"sunget naman" = "so sassy"

Pukeng ina (Putang ina) = Putang ina translates to "You're mom's a whore" but can also be an expression of "Mother whore" leading to something like this "Mother whore! you scared me!!" and 'Puke' means; Pussy, so this dialogue translates to "Pussy Mother" or "Fucking pussy"

Tortang talong = Fried Eggplant omelette

Fandak-go = Fandango and Pandak mixed together. Pandak means short

#genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #childe #tohma #scaramouche #school au #genshin impact school au #filipino reader #fluff #head canon

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mrkis · 3 years

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nsfw a to z analysis — jeno

[version two]

A — Aftercare jeno helps clean you up, making sure you’re okay while making flirtatious jokes about what happened mere seconds before. He wraps his arms around you to cuddle, playing with your hair to help you sleep.

B - Body Part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners) jeno’s favourite body part on himself is his arms, he likes the muscles and how hard he’s trained himself to get them.

his favourite body part on you are your thighs and your legs, his body buzzes with excitement whenever you wrap them around his waist.

C — Cum inside you. jeno loves filling you up. he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he loves watching it drip out of you.

D — Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs) jeno’s dirtiest secret is that he sometimes uses your underwear to help himself get off.

E — Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) jeno isn’t super experienced but he’s not a virgin either, maybe slept with someone once or twice. but he’s pretty knowledgeable, he uses what he knows on you.

F — Favourite Position jeno likes to be facing you whenever you’re fucking, he wants to see your fucked out facial expressions, he wants to know how good he’s making you feel. jeno also likes fucking you while standing, holding you up with his arms.

G — Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) jeno is more serious than he is goofy, he takes sex seriously but there are odd moments where he cracks a smile or makes you laugh on purpose.

H — Hair (how well groomed they are) jeno goes between trimming the area or completely bare, he won’t let his hair go out of control.

I — Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) jeno is only romantic during sex when he’s making love to you, caressing your body and kissing every inch of your skin. although, he occasionally lets a “i love you” slip past his slips when he’s railing you into the bed.

J — Jacking Off doesn’t masturbate a lot considering you’re by his side most of the time, but sometimes when he’s alone or if you’re busy, he rubs one out to get rid of some pent up stress or to wear down his energy.

K — Kink(s) his kinks are light choking, thigh riding, creampies, spanking and sensory deprivation.

L — Location either in one of your bedrooms or the shower. he loves fucking you against the shower wall, it’s his favourite location.

M — Motivation (what turns them on, what gets them going) he gets turned on by you trying to rile him up or make him jealous, especially if you let your hands linger on one of his members for too long. jaemin is usually the culprit, he secretly likes seeing you tease his best friend.

N — No although jeno wouldn’t mind trying out new kinks, he’s not a fan of sharing you with anyone else. threesomes are a no go and will shut it down if you ever bring it up. sorry.

O — Oral he prefers giving than receiving which is a win for you. don’t get him wrong, he loves having your lips wrapped around his cock but there’s something about eating you out that makes him go frantic.

P — Pace (are they fast or rough, slow or sensual, etc) hard and fast. non stop. no breaks or time outs. good luck.

Q — Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often it happens, etc) jeno doesn’t mind quickies. they don’t happen often but when they do, it’s something he enjoys, especially the ones where you have to keep quiet

R — Risk (are they game to experiment, would they take risks, etc) he’s 100% game to experiment certain things and take risks. he isn’t afraid to try out new things, to test the waters on some new kinks that you both have discovered

S — Stamina (how many rounds they can go for, how long do they last) jeno can definitely go for more than two rounds, his stamina is crazily insane.

T — Toys (do they own toys, do they use them) he’s not a fan of toys, he likes to think that you’re all he needs. he wouldn’t mind investing in some vibrators and cock rings if you brought it up, but right now he’s pretty content with you using him to get yourself off.

U — Unfair (how much they like to tease) he’s not as big of a tease as you think. sure, there are times where he makes you hold off on your orgasm or pretend he’s going to touch you but other than that, he’ll happily give you what you want.

V — Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make) deep grunts and low moans that turns into breathy moans when he’s close to cumming. jeno only let’s out really high pitched noises and whimpers when he’s desperate or haven’t been with you for so long.

W — Wild Card “that’s my baby” jeno coos through heavy breaths, relentlessly pounding inside you as you cling to him for support, wincing as your back aches from being held against the wall for so long and jeno chuckles, gripping your thighs tightly as he hoists you higher.

your moans echo throughout his room, his name spilling from your lips like a broken record and you couldn’t care less if the member next door could hear what was going on.

“you take me so well, baby” jeno grunts into your ear. “you wont make me jealous again, right? you know how good i give it to you when you’re a good girl”

X — X-ray (let’s see what’s going on in their pants, picture or words) just over average, more girth than length. he knows how to use it well.

Y — Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) surprisingly not high, but he does enjoy having sex with you. jeno doesn’t constantly yearn to be inside you, but he wouldn’t back down a chance to get down to business if you offered.

Z — Zzz… (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) he’s most definitely tired after using up all his stamina but he’s the type to wait for you to fall asleep first, no matter how sleepy he is.

#nct #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream jeno #nct jeno #lee jeno #nct a to z #jeno a to z #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut

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levisgirll · 3 years

Note

Hi ~ I know u made a headcanon where Levi comforts his gf but since he's a private man and doesn't like PDA, how would he comfort his gf if she was, let's say crying, in front of others?

𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙨𝙩 (𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

text: hello there anon! first off I would like to thank you for checking out and reading my other headcanon post 🥺❤️❤️ and for also coming back to send me a request! I love this idea and I agree with this, so I had fun writing this out :,) also I made this request as a headcanon/fanfiction, so I hope you enjoy it! (I kinda relate to levi because I also don’t really like PDA if I were to be in a relationship! but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t show any other affection. I guess this all would have to do with privacy. So, def same with Levi, so I get it).

synopsis: Levi Ackerman is a private man, no one would expect him to even have a lover! He see no point to show and let everyone know about y/n being his girlfriend! Instead, it’s only important to him to show you his love and you both keep your love private and personal which makes the relationship��you both share special and rather unique. One day though, something happened to y/n which made her tear up in front of the scouts and Levi shows his comfort and care to her in a way that it shows his real love towards her. In his own way of expressing romance to her which was very touching and gave not only y/n but also levi a pleasant feeling of happiness whenever they were together. (I promise you this is lots of cute fluff, also some true romance levi would express which is super heart warming ♡ )

real fluff, aot world, headcanons ♡ —

The past few days were going pretty hard for you. A lot was going on, such as drama and many issues happening in the survey headquarters that you worked at.

You were jumping from squad to squad and your roles and work kept on changing which made you stress out a little and many people kept on rushing you. You were often switched from each team because the commanders liked your skills such as Erwin, Hanji and now you were at Miche’s team with Nanaba and Gelgar who you were getting quite close with.

As Y/N was trying to get her work done and filling out some paperworks, doing the necessary checks, some scouts came up to her. “Hey Y/N! Could you please help me with this? I really need some help right now.” and then another came “Y/N! Would you do me a favor and do this for me?”, then a scout came up to her and said “Y/N, you messed up the paperwork from this morning! It’s all wrong! What’s wrong with you?”

You suddenly were overwhelmed and you were so nervous you had no idea what to do or say that you started to run off. As you were running you saw Miche and Nanaba and you ran up towards them.

“Hey Y/N! How’s it....Wait, are you okay? You look quite pale.” Nanaba said suddenly with a worried expression and she touched your shoulder gently. You then realized that you really messed up earlier and you fucked up everything, nothing seems to be going your way and you never seemed to give yourself a break. You then could not hold it any longer and started to tear up, soon crying.

“Y-Y/N?!” Miche said, all worried and his serious expression dropped and went near you, while Nanaba was holding on to your shoulders and said in a concerned tone “Tell us, what happened! Was it someone?”

As soon as they were about to say anything else, they were all taken aback and quiet when they suddenly heard someone saying “Who the fuck made her cry?” Suddenly, Miche and Nanaba jolted up and felt a deadly vibe coming towards them which made them shiver. It was Levi! Y/N’s boyfriend. He had such an angry look, he was clearly ready to murder anyone who came in his way.

Nanaba and Miche moved away quickly so Levi could approach to his girlfriend. “Y/N, are you okay?” He said softly and moved his head to the other side so he could see your face, he also examined your body to see if you were hurt but thankfully you were not which made him relieved a bit. But you were quick to hide your face as you covered your face with your hands. He knew and understood that you did not want to talk about it now and would want to be alone with you later the evening. But, that did not stop Levi not comforting you in his own way throughout the day.

He turned towards Miche and Nanaba who quickly told him that they were unsure what made his girlfriend cry and were quite upset to see her down and felt bad how they did not notice she was put under pressure and having loads of workload.

If you tried to push him away and not wanting him to know why you have cried or teared up he would still follow you and as soon as you stopped, he would finally say “If it upsets you....then it upsets me.” He would say as his face soften and he looked rather a bit sad cause you were upset, and even because that you wouldn’t say it to him as your boyfriend, he wanted to know everything that was up.

And of course, after you have calmed down from crying while he was staying by your side this whole time. You and Levi had a special thing in your relationship between the both of you, you both would usually meet up at an agreed time and place, basically lots of private romantic rendezvous between the both of you. It was a special thing that you both shared as it was just you two alone, not anyone there disturbing you two. Just Levi putting his full focus on you and would hold your hands whenever if the meet ups were to talk things out, or show each other some love while holding you close. Obviously, he had to wait for the evening for this to happen so throughout the whole day he would do his own way of comfort and showing his care towards you!

If you were not feeling well or you were pretty down after what happened. If Y/N went to their room and decided to stay there for the evening, Levi would actually come behind the door and try to lean against it and wait to hear if you were still sobbing or not. He wants to make sure if you are okay and if not he would not hesitate to come in and try to talk it out with you more, but he knew you well. But regardless, he would leave some medicine such as painkillers to help ease your stress and headaches outside your door and then knock your door. Levi would also once a while slip a note under the door and you would see it sliding and going near to your bed as you sat there and it would say “Hope you are better Love. I’m at my office if you need me”. His notes would melt and warm your heart, it was his way of showing his feelings, love and care for you and your wellbeing and this would always comfort you.

If you both were in public, you both wont show or do any PDA of course but instead Levi would definitely compliment you. He does that so everyone who was there can know that he was only allowed to flatter you and say these compliments to, and if anyone dared do that instead of him, he won’t let them slide.

With that, he likes to mention your name and talk highly of you, basically pamper you instead of PDA, and that would make Y/N blush and get embarrassed since it would catch them off guard (and Levi secretly liked that-). He would do that a lot after you have cried and calmed down just to see you smile and lighten up your mood. He wants everyone to mention your name in the conversation that you were in and everyone would join Levi and compliment you too and that made you feel so special and even blush like crazy and Levi would just watch you and then give a small smile.

After you have cried, he wants to try his best to make you happy and not upset anymore. So, when he sees you in the mess hall among other people, he would approach to your table where you sat alone and I honestly see Levi sticking to them old-fashioned romance and giving Y/N some flowers he would probably pick up or even buy you some. All eyes would be on the both of you and that would make you blush completely, he does that so you can forget how you cried front of the others earlier and instead remember this. He also does this to show everyone that you are his girl and you are the lucky one he would give you the flowers too <3

He would try and come to check up on you to see how you were doing. While Y/N was sitting with Sasha, and as they were chatting about something, Levi was approaching Y/N and he brought his hand out and was giving Y/N a small cardboard bag. “What’s...this?” Y/N wondered as she accepted the gift and took it, as soon as she opened it she saw her favorite pastries and sweets that she really liked, her boyfriend Levi knew her too well. “Make sure you eat them all and enjoy it. And Sasha, you better not take none of them or I will make you in charge of cleaning duty for a month.” You sat there, smiling a lot while munching on your favorite sweets which was from your favorite person and it never tasted any better! So after Levi finding that out, expect Levi buying you lots of pastries.

Would definitely compliment you, say sweet things such as “Hey, you look good today Y/N” or “I’m always here for you, come to my office when you are free love.” He really did care for you and these simple words, had a lot of meaning.

Would do small actions that showed his love and affection for you, especially when he was worried for you. He would bring you some tea for sure, run you a hot bath after a long day and he would say and as he looked at you with full of love and care, “Y/N, I ran you a hot bath. This should help you ease you up.” His kind gestures melted you and he would definitely come to wash your hair as you sat on the bathtub if you called him. And after that, he would give you a light kiss on your shoulder since it was just the two of you alone and that made you blush even harder.

If you ever asked Levi for anything in front of your friends/comrades he would not hesitate to do it. Besides, has Levi your boyfriend ever said no to you? In front of others, he would look at you and wait for you to say the favor. He was loyal and has always been respectful towards his girlfriend, “Anything else? Come on, you can ask me.” He would say still looking at you while his eyes would scan your face and admire your features and beauty. He would do anything to comfort y/n.

And to be honest, if you liked to keep your boundaries clear and liked to separate work with your personal life, Levi would totally accept that and I feel like he would be such an understandable man? He would agree to it cause he would like that too and just to keep things on track, but that does not mean he was not thinking about you 24/7 and he would always wish for the meeting room, stable or wherever you both were at, to be alone (especially after he saw you tearing up or upset, he wanted to check up with his girl and make her happy, I feel like he would def do this) and wishing everyone leaving so it can just be the two of you alone, so he can just hold your hand and give it a gentle rub with his thumb. “I missed you, where have you been this whole morning?” He would say as he looked at your eyes, and you could tell by his expression that he was madly in love with you. “W-Was helping out Moblit organizing the next experiment for next week.”

“Hm, I see. Do you have some time tonight? I want to spend some time with you for a bit.” Levi said which looked like he had said it confidently but rather seemed to be in a nervous and shy tone, worried you would reject it.

Overall, not showing or doing PDA does not mean that there is nothing going on behind closed doors or whenever you both are alone and private! And even without PDA, there are other things that are done to show his love to his partner which Levi would do such as giving you small gifts, saying sweet things to you/compliments, making you laugh and cheer up, even checking up on you throughout the day before he sees you alone in his office in the evening. And, he does this all by his instincts because it is actually coming from his heart and love for you! It’s simple, but the kind of way that you could feel the love and his sweet acts which would warm and melt his girlfriend’s heart, y/n!

I hope you really enjoyed this real fluff headcanons! I honestly see this happening if Levi had a partner and I do find it true that he wont like PDA, but he is a private man and in his privacy with his girlfriend he would show her lots of love <3 so when in public (as he waits for the evening to be alone with her) I can imagine these happening and this kind of love is really strong and holds a lot of meaning. If you liked this plsss leave a like, a message, or a reblog! I would appreciate that ♥ ♥ ♥

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akitokihojo · 3 years

Text

Monster - Chapter 12

chapter index

damn near almost forgot it was Friday... anyway, this one's a little shorter, but necessarily so. I hope you enjoy it, nevertheless! <3

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Kagome was in a grouchy mood from the rude awakening she’d received early that morning. She wasn’t outwardly expressing herself, but it was a little too difficult to wipe it clean from her face. And, Shinosuke was too amused by it.

It was a young lady who’d woken she and Inuyasha up, and immediately Kagome knew she was there to change Inuyasha’s bandages. When Kagome had first arrived the night before, a small stain was noticeable, but as she sat up from Inuyasha’s side, the front of his bandages were completely soddened with his blood. He was weak and fatigued, eyes opened from his own awakening but irises dull, and didn’t even have enough energy to really grasp her hand anymore. His breathing was shallow, but he tried to narrow a brave look at her. Still, she froze with fear.

The woman, Wakana, wouldn’t allow Kagome to help and insisted she leave. Though Kagome persistently objected, demanding she needed to stay by his side, again she was torn away by the strong arms of Shinosuke.

“He was okay last night!” She frantically cried as he let her go just outside of Inuyasha’s room.

“And, he’s okay now. I swear. This is normal with blood loss, but he’s part demon. He’s going to be fine.”

“No, but -“

“Kagome, I promise! He’s just fucking exhausted from healing, and the medication from last night has most likely worn off. I’ve seen this on numerous occasions. And, you want to be with him twenty-four-seven, I get it. You want to personally witness his progress, but you can’t. It’s not good for you. Wakana’s right, you shouldn’t see him like this right now. You both need a little space from each other.”

“No, that doesn’t make sense. He would never leave my side if I was hurt like that, and I don’t want to leave his.” Kagome argued, bleary eyed.

“Don’t you get it? If you’re in there, he’s going to be focused on your well-being the entire time. He wont want to rest because he’s going to want to make sure you’re calm. I already saw him trying; I was right there. And, you? You’re going to see the most traumatizing wound you’ve probably ever laid eyes on. Trust me, something like that doesn’t just leave your memory. Especially, when it’s happened to someone significant to you. It’s going to scar you, and each time you look at Inuyasha thereafter, you’ll either see the infliction or you’ll be absolutely terrified it’ll happen again, so you’ll overcompensate to prevent it. You both need to be apart. You got pretty banged up yesterday, too. When was the last time you just focused on yourself?” That last question came off playfully sarcastic, but Kagome couldn’t perceive anything but literalism at the moment.

“I don’t know, like thirteen years ago.” She responded blandly. “I have a little brother.”

“Oh my god.” He deadpanned, blinking. “You need to eat something.”

“No, but -“

“Kagome, come on.” Shinosuke placed his hand in the middle of her back to guide her. “I promise, he’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, need some food.”

“I don’t want food.”

“You’re eating food.”

And, so here she was, porridge and fruit placed on a tray before her as she sat on a rather large bed in a rather large room she hadn’t been in before. Kagome nibbled on a strawberry, feeling the grumpy pout written all over her face, her stomach in shambles, and Shinosuke snickering at her from a chair by the door.

“Are you going to watch me all freaking day?”

“That’s literally my job. So, yes.”

“Go away.” Kagome grumbled, half a strawberry in her mouth.

“No.” He smiled.

The door opened slowly, cautiously, Wakana walking in with a soft smile on her face. She pulled her long, brown hair from the low ponytail it’d been in, allowing the straight, flowing strands to hang freely now around her shoulders. Immediately, Shinosuke respectfully stood, giving a light bow of his head when their eyes met.

“He’s perfectly fine.” She assured Kagome, approaching closer. “The hole’s actually a bit smaller already. I was surprised to see such quick improvement. The wound is lathered in some herbs, he’s wrapped up nice and tight, and I had him sip on an herbal remedy to help alleviate some pain.”

“Can I see him?” Kagome softly asked, lowering the strawberry from her pink-stained lips.

“He’s asleep.” Wakana grimaced slightly.

“Can I - can I see him, anyway?”

“No.” Shinosuke chimed, robbing a grape from her fruit bowl.

Kagome scowled at the audacious guard, flickering her attention back at Wakana. “Why is he like this? I don’t think I like him.”

“I don’t think I do either.” She sighed, elbowing him in the side. “Sorry. I know he’s a pain in the ass, but he’s the head of our guards, and papa was right to have him watch over you. Though, your friend doesn’t appear to care as much as we’d thought he would. He can’t even move and he seems to think he can do better.”

“Oh, you told him?” Kagome asked, wondering when the topic could have come up. Though, she couldn’t deny that the response sounded very organic to Inuyasha’s nature. Processing everything else she’d said, her head cocked to the side in a quick subject change. “Wait, papa?”

Wakana gave a small laugh, smacking Shinosuke’s hand as he reached for another piece of fruit. “It’s like clockwork. I walk in, Inuyasha asks for you. We’ve told him multiple times that you’re being protected, but much like you, he wants to be by your side. And, yes. I’m the headman’s daughter. I asked Shinosuke to bring you to my room. Figured it would be more comfortable for you. I also have some clothes that should fit you.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” Kagome kindly declined, handing Shinosuke the fork she hadn’t been using with a slice of honeydew on the end. She wasn’t a huge fan of that fruit, so he could eat all of those pieces for all she cared. “What happened to my clothes from yesterday?”

Wakana arched a spekulative brow. “Ruined?”

“What do you mean, ruined?”

“You didn’t actually expect that blood to come out, did you?” Shinosuke asked after swallowing his fruit.

“Oh, shit.” Kagome hissed. “I forgot! Crap, that was my last shirt.”

“I might be able to save the bodice, though.” Wakana mentioned, nibbling on her bottom lip.

Kagome’s eyes widened, a small pout returning to her face. “My bodice? What happened to my bodice?”

“The seams split. And - um - so did the back.”

It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. After rolling around in the dirt to fight a demon, what else could she have expected?

“R-I-P.” Shinosuke satirically said, snagging another honeydew. Kagome pinned him with a threatening glare, one he finally heeded as he recoiled drastically, crossing back over to his chair by the door.

“I’ve got plenty of dresses, love!” Wakana said, trying to lift her spirits. “You’re more than welcome to any!”

“I appreciate that, but what’ll I do when I leave here?”

“Take them with you!”

“No, I couldn’t.” Kagome shook her head. “That’s so sweet of you, but I really couldn’t.”

“I insist.”

“No, honestly. I can’t fight in a dress.”

“Neither can I.” Shinosuke commented, his mouth full.

“Oh my god, get out.” Wakana groaned, rolling her eyes as she scowled at Shinosuke.

“Can’t.” He grinned, pointing to Kagome. “Scout’s honor.”

“Then, quiet.”

“That, I can do.” He agreed, sealing his lips.

“Okay, here’s the thing: The women around here don’t really wear bodices anymore; everything’s sort of built into our dresses, and it’s rare to see a woman in pants around these parts -“

“Barbarians.”

Both women glared at Shinosuke, and abruptly, with a tension of fear, he stood from his seat, opening the door and dragging the chair out with him.

“Anyway,” Wakana groaned, redirecting her gaze back to Kagome now that they were alone. “As I was saying, I can probably make you another, and if not, I can consult the seamstress at the edge of town. Let me brainstorm a little on this, is that okay?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble for you. It’s not a problem. I can -“

“No, don’t worry. I love doing this. It’s the little things in life, right? It’s no trouble at all, and after what you two did for all of us yesterday, it’s a pleasure.”

“Oh. Well, alright. Thank you.” Kagome reluctantly agreed.

“For the meantime, let me replace your bandages and get you out of your pajamas.”

Kagome flexed her hand in their new wrappings, her split knuckle coated in a thick ointment beneath and tingling from the remedy’s properties. The scrape on her head had a light layer smeared on, the bandage poking from her bangs and covering the entire area to keep the ointment in.

She could see the enthusiasm on Wakana’s face as she pulled out a few dresses from the back of her wardrobe. She’d explained that she’d made them herself, but there was something else there. A joy that told Kagome she hadn’t been able to pull them out in a while.

“I’d put my hobbies aside for the past couple of years. Who was I to have lavish taste and ease my worries with distractions such as sewing while my people were in a depression, constantly afraid of the henchmen’s next visit? Not to mention, the healthier you looked - and I mean that in all regards - the worse treatment you’d receive. It was best not to attract more attention, you know? I didn’t want them increasing their inspections. Not when there was -“ She stopped herself, glancing over at Kagome. “Not when I had people to protect. Their fear is our fear. So is their pain. And, sadness. My papa, he does his best for his people, and he stands right with them no matter what.

“Once Moryomaru starting coming around, that was when we all stowed away our irreplaceable belongings. My mother’s ashes, a few knickknacks from ancestors, and things of the likes from the village people were stored here below ground. In fact, they’re being brought up to return to their homes as we speak.” Her happiness was indescribable. It was like Kagome could physically see the weight had lifted off of her shoulders.

“But, wait.” She couldn’t help but ask. “Are you positive we got them all?”

“Actually, yes. I wasn’t there to see it happen, unfortunately. I was here in the courtyard with the women that live in this home. With Shinosuke and the guards. Moryomaru was in the midsts of taunting us when they left for whatever was going on, and I remember being so confused in that moment. But, papa told me everything. Inuyasha singlehandedly took all of the henchmen on. More importantly, you two killed Moryomaru. You killed the henchmen’s commander. Their leader. I’m not sure if that’s the end of all inspections, but the henchmen are like chickens running around without a head without someone to tell them what to do. And, I may have never met Naraku, but I certainly figure he finds himself too superior to ever sully his hands by speaking with low lives such as them. I’m sure inspections are about to slow substantially from this point forward. I can feel it.”

“Okay, hold on.” Kagome spoke, leaning on the frame of the bed as she digested that information, brown eyes unfocused on the carpet. “Moryomaru. That’s that thing’s name? That creature?”

“Yes.” Wakana confirmed.

“They were - they were the commander? Of all the henchmen? They were the one who called all the shots?”

“Ultimately, yes. Moryomaru liked to boast about their leadership, that was for sure, and while they had a chain of command it seemed - with a leader of each platoon - Moryomaru was the top. Forgive me, but did you not know that?”

“No.” Kagome admitted, glancing up at the headman’s daughter.

“Oh.” Her brows furrowed in contemplation. “This may sound presumptuous, but you guys came in so ready to fight, we’d sort of figured you were hunting Moryomaru.”

“Not at all. Before yesterday, we’d never seen Moryomaru. At least, I hadn’t. Not sure about Inuyasha, but he’d never mentioned them before. We were in the area when we sensed the demons, and then we heard some screaming so -“

“So, you came to help…” Wakana finished, astonished.

“Yeah.” Kagome nodded.

“You came to help even though you’re a conjurer…”

“Well, Inuyasha did. I can’t take much credit there; he’d made me agree to stay behind so they wouldn’t know about me.”

“Even so, he ran in even though he’s a hanyou. I can’t believe… You guys - you still ended up fighting too, you cant tell me you got these wounds from hiding, and I - you two are - I can’t believe -“ Wakana couldn’t finish her sentence. She’d been incredibly grateful to these two from the moment her father had brought them back to their home, and she thought incredibly highly of them from the instant she understood the incident. But, to learn the circumstance a little better, to comprehend that there was plenty on the line for them too, but they still contributed their strengths to save them, and ultimately so many more, Wakana was awestruck. Heedlessly, she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Kagome’s shoulders to hug her tight.

Kagome had tensed at first, but recovered quickly, returning the gesture. At first, her touch was light, cautious, but as Wakana leaned further into her, Kagome firmed her hold on the woman.

“Are you okay?” Kagome asked, slightly confused.

“I’m just so thankful to you two.” She leaned back to say, smiling. “To know it was your decision to help and not a job makes it even more meaningful. I can see it’s kind of hard to wrap your head around, but you haven’t just saved my village and people. You’ve saved so many others, as well.”

“But, their leaders… the second in commands, I suppose -“

“Chickens without a head, girl. Chickens without a head.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help but fear that you’re wrong.”

“I understand. I don’t think I’ve seen nearly as much of the world and its cruelty as you and Inuyasha have.” Wakana rubbed Kagome’s arm consolingly. There was a chance that she was wrong. Nothing in this world was certain, especially now, and if Naraku created Moryomaru for this purpose, he could absolutely create another monster to take their place. But, from what Shinosuke had experienced, what he and his father had come back to inform her father of, she wanted to believe that this was the first step in overcoming the evil that clouded their lives. So, maybe hearing it from their guard would help alleviate the worry in Kagome’s frown.

“Shinosuke, come here please!” She shouted over her shoulder.

“Ma’am?” The tall man poked his head in through the large doors a short second later, his brows raised in question.

“In.”

“Ma’am.” He complied, taking the order and shutting the door right behind him.

“Tell Kagome what you know about Moryomaru, please. No jokes. Give her what you’ve learned.”

Shinosuke gave a single nod of his head, regarding the conjurer with his charcoal eyes. “They’re a creation of Naraku, derived from his own vessel. They took leadership of the inspectors, having nearly a thousand men at their beck and call at one point. They’d admitted that as their numbers began suddenly depleting drastically, that was when they’d decided to come forward and monitor more inspections to see where the disruption was coming from. It was more to show that if villagers were beginning an uprising, they were there to scare them back in line.”

“And, Moryomaru’s chain of command?” Wakana requested.

“Useless without Moryomaru. They were too involved, had a need for control, so none of their ‘officers’, so to speak, were allowed to make calls without their issuance. Therefore, without him, the chain breaks.”

“How do you know all this?” Kagome’s question came out quietly, taken aback.

A small grimace appeared on Shinosuke’s face and Wakana’s gaze fell downward. There wasn’t much delay before the guard looked to the woman at Kagome’s side and asked, “May I?”

“Of course.” She nodded.

Shinosuke lifted his shirt high enough to show the abnormally large scar stretching over the outer portion of his ribcage. “A few of us guards were abducted by that fucker a few months ago; myself, my father, and Nobunaga. Said we got too bold in thinking we could protect anybody so they wanted to put us in our place - which would serve as a warning to our other guards.”

Kagome’s jaw had dropped slightly, her eyes widening at the deformed scar. Her breath locked in her lungs from her gasp and it was almost like she couldn’t look away from the sealed wound. She couldn’t believe what she was looking at. It should have been fathomable, given everything she’d witnessed over the years, but she couldn’t believe she was in the presence of someone who’d survived evident torture.

“They were in custody for five weeks.” Wakana added solemnly as Shinosuke lowered his clothing. “We didn’t know if they’d return. But, Shinosuke, being Shinosuke, used the opportunity to memorize everything he’d seen while with them.”

“If I lived, I was going to make sure I told everyone who needed to know everything I saw and heard. Tell me, conjurer. Are you someone who needs to know, or who’s just too curious for their own good?”

Kagome couldn’t fight her hesitation. Her fingers curled into apprehensive fists as her nerves gave a small wring of her stomach. No one knew of their quest. No one knew their true objective, Koga being the one exception on Inuyasha’s side. But, even after finding out Koga was part of the war, she still decided not to disclose her purpose. Koga didn’t know what she was, though. That was a huge part of her reason against telling him. There was something different about the circumstances at play here. She’d swooped in with her arrow, and with Inuyasha’s blast from his sword, they’d synchronously created an insanely powerful attack. They’d unknowingly destroyed a war machine. They’d unknowingly annihilated a part of Naraku. The people here knew what she was whether she confirmed or denied, and they were allies. Why hide anymore?

“Inuyasha and I, our mission is to kill Naraku. We want to find a way to end the darkness we’re living in.” She said, leveling her chin confidently.

“That’s what you’re working toward?” He asked, and it wasn’t a test. There was the hint of concern on his brow.

“Everyday.”

“Well, fuck.” Shinosuke sighed. “Sounds legitimate enough to me.”

He walked closer so his voice wouldn’t carry, stopping just a few feet away from the women. Kagome had stiffened slightly, and he knew exactly why. She was afraid. It was a learned reaction. Right now, she was vulnerable, and as far as she was concerned, alone. No matter how many times she was promised safety, assured coalition, it wasn’t always possible to turn off that part of your brain that braced you for the worst. Because, you were trained to expect it after so long. Especially, being someone in her position.

So, as he stopped, he made sure to slowly outstretch his hand. He held it out for her to take, patiently allowing her to register that he meant no harm - only respect. As Kagome slipped her small palm within his hold, he wrapped his fingers firmly around it, carefully stepping inward, bending forward, and whispering in her ear.

“Naraku has five creations. Excluding Moryomaru, I encountered two. They were named Hakudoshi and Kagura.”

—

There was a small abatement from the storm. It was a little humid outside, but Kagome just wanted to be absorbed in the scent of rain. Finally accepting that while she was staying at the village’s headman’s home Shinosuke was an accessory to her person, she decided to drag him outside to take a walk with her.

Wakana had been so patient and kind, so Kagome had allowed her to have some fun and dress her the way she so pleased. Having to put it away for quite some time, Kagome could see the freedom on her pink cheeks as she finally got to dive into her creativity again. It made Wakana happy, and after so much tentative care to both she and Inuyasha, Kagome was glad to be the first she expressed her art on again.

Unfortunately, it was a little obvious she hadn’t worn a dress in well over a decade. Let alone, had never once in her life worn a dress quite this nice. Shinosuke had called her out for her incessant fidgeting three times and kept snickering at her whenever she readjusted the cut around her breasts. It was a little lower than anything she was used to, and the low dip had her feeling extremely exposed. She wasn’t. Each time she instinctually went to put her breasts away she had to keep reminding herself that they were exactly where they were meant to be, but it was just weird to feel so much of a breeze.

The sleeves were off the shoulder, fastened to her upper arms by a material that clung. The rest of the sleeves were long and flowy, cut in the middle for her arms to slip out of had she reached for something. Never in her life had Kagome worn such a pretty shade of pastel pink, nor had she experienced little, blush roses made of silk fastened to her bust, nor had she had the opportunity to feel ribbons made of the same, tied in a bow at the center of her sternum. Tiny leaves were sewn into the fabric just beneath her breasts, cinching the dress to her ribs, and the same was said for her waistline, holding the gown to her as the rest of the length of the skirt was free to flow around her entire lower body.

Kagome’s hair was brushed, waving naturally, but tied half up in a twisted bun that was held in place by pins unseen. Her bangs were in tidy order for the first time in weeks, and Wakana was meticulous to pull the strands that framed her jawline free from the bun. She’d asked to put a subtle hint of glitter on Kagome’s cheeks, and considering it was a huge day of firsts for her, Kagome could only bring herself to shrug in a huge, why the hell not?

Truthfully, the doting makeover was fun for Kagome, too. While she felt more comfortable in pants and a shirt, it was only because it was what she was used to, and functionality called for it. She actually really loved dresses. The look of them, at least. With it being years since she’d even considered wearing one, she wondered so often if she could even pull them off. And, when she finally got a look at herself in the mirror once Wakana had finished, pride gleaming in the woman’s eyes, Kagome couldn’t help but grow incredibly shy. She loved the way it looked on her, but it was so different.

“Tell me you’re not girly without telling me you’re not girly.” Shinosuke jabbed, chuckling at her side as they strolled around the outer pathway of the mansion.

“Hush.” Kagome sighed. “I think I was eight the last time I wore a dress.”

“They’re not going anywhere.” He remarked, regarding the way she kept fixing the bust of her dress. “Believe me, there are women in town with bigger breasts than you that do manual labor in dresses made of thinner material, and they’ll proudly tell you that their tits stay in place.”

Another sigh as she dropped her hands to her side. “I’m just not used to it.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“No, I do. It’s pretty.” Kagome assured, looking up at him and nodding. “I’m just - I mean, like I said, I’m - I’m not used to it.”

“Ah, I get it.” Shinosuke smirked, looking ahead of them. “You’re self conscious.”

She didn’t say anything. She merely looked at the thriving plants to her right, minding how the petals of flowers were still dotted with droplets of rain. The sky was still blanketed in dark clouds, conveying that the storm had yet to fully pass, and the air was thick with the comforting smell of moisture.

“May I compliment you?” He respectfully asked.

Kagome glanced up at him again, curious. “Not if you feel obligated.”

“I just want to make sure I won’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh. I appreciate that.” She really did. She understood that he was simply trying to make her feel more secure with his honest thoughts while not trying to offset her by making it seem he was overstepping any boundaries. Not many men had that courtesy. “Sure.”

Shinosuke stopped, turning to the woman at his side. It was interesting to him to see such a strong female who’d participated in taking down a plague to their society seem so small and timid in such a superficial environment. Maybe she was the sort who didn’t realize her beauty. Maybe she was the sort that didn’t really focus on that sort of thing, and this element - delicate femininity - was abnormal to her. Given such, it was irrelevant. Anyone with eyes could see that even when she ran into the courtyard yesterday along her battered companion, covered in scratches, dirt, blood, and fear she was inherently beautiful. Now, cleaned, bandaged, still slightly guarded but overall level, Kagome was enchanting. And, he could easily tell that that was what Wakana was trying to enhance.

It wasn’t that she was merely letting loose and having fun. Wakana was specific to adhere to the minds of others, as well as their hearts. She’d wanted to distract Kagome from her partner’s condition. She’d wanted to make her feel a little better about herself while she knew things, in general, felt off to not have Inuyasha beside her. Sometimes, it was the little things that brought a smile to appear. A genuine smile.

Kagome was brave, fierce, and selfless. That, alone, was gorgeous. And, Wakana was trying to bring that inward appearance outward so Kagome could see the exact way she was looking at her.

Shinosuke took a moment. He noticed the small hint of pink on her cheeks, the way she’d nervously been pinching her lips together since the moment they’d stepped outside - which had inadvertently created a nice, rosy hue, the way her hair was waving just a little bit more than before due to the slight humidity. He smiled softly, tilting his head to the side.

“I think you’re beautiful. I think you worry too much, and that if you just stood up a little straighter, held your head up a little higher, and allowed yourself to step out of your comfort zone, you’d own your radiance. I think you could stop men in their tracks, and I think it’d be cute to see how confused you are when it happens, because you seem just air-headed enough not to understand what sort of affect you have on people. Even looking as worn out as you did yesterday, you were pretty. Right now, you’re - Kagome, you’re beautiful.”

He’d said it directly, compassionately, kindly. It wasn’t from a place that would make her stiffen with shyness, but a place that made her smile from genuine benevolence.

“Thank you.” She said. “You’re pretty, too.”

Shinosuke laughed, patting Kagome’s head and redirecting her to walk along the path through the courtyard.

At the very edge, before the entrance from town and just before Shinosuke turned her around, a little girl with her brother ran up, hand-in-hand. A soft rumble of thunder struck in the distance, and the smell of rain had become just a little heavier in the passing minutes. Yet, the children seemed untroubled by the threat, staring wide-eyed at Kagome.

“Mayu, no. Go home.” Shinosuke quickly said as she opened her mouth. “Not right now.”

“But -“ The little girl quickly went to argue, but her brother was already trying to tug her away. He seemed unwelcoming, protective, and the one that liked to steer a little more on the careful side.

“Has anything I’ve ever said been negotiable?” Shinosuke asked in a firm tone.

“No, but -“

“Then, go home. Your mother probably doesn’t even know you’re out here, am I right?”

“Yes.” Satoru claimed with contempt. “Mayu didn’t want to listen to me and decided to sneak out while mom was napping. So, I came with her. Sorry, Shinosuke. We’re leaving.”

“No, I need to talk to her.” Mayu tried again a little louder, stomping her foot for added effect.

“Not right now, you don’t. Satoru, is your mother unwell again?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.” The identical boy answered.

“Mayu, come on.” Shinosuke bargained, kneeling down before the two children. “Please, don’t stress her out further right now. Wait for the storm to pass, at least. You know how much your mom worries about you. You need to give people time to adjust and recover. You aren’t the only person to consider here.”

Kagome could see the little girl fighting herself. Her dark eyes bounced from Shinosuke to her and then back to the guard, nostrils flaring at her frustrated huff.

“Be patient. Now’s not the time to be selfish. Go home.”

“Fine.” She grumbled, and then darted a glare toward Kagome, catching her completely off guard. “But, I’ll be back!”

Shinosuke stood, returning to Kagome’s side as the two children ran off down the street, taking an alley corner.

“Why - why did I feel like that was a threat?” Kagome warily asked.

“Eh, she’s harmless. Mayu’s rough around the edges, for sure, but she’s a good kid. Satoru’s the one you should watch. He used to be this timid boy a couple of years ago, barely spoke, hid behind his twin sister, the works, but then one day he just switched. Mayu comes off tough, but her brother’s the one that’ll actually scare you. Believe me.” He said, placing his hand at her mid back to turn her around to head back through the courtyard garden.

“Well, what was it she wanted to talk to me about? It seemed urgent.”

“It’s not. She’s just pushy. I can guarantee she’ll be back, hopefully at a more appropriate time, and she’ll be able to bug you then. If you’re okay with that, of course. If not, tell me now. I’ll be able to keep her at bay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

“Because, you’re a conjurer. And, she’s going to bring that up.”

“Ah, that’s right. She asked me yesterday, but the headman stopped her.”

“I know it’s a touchy subject. She’s going to be a ten year old, and she’s not going to understand boundaries.”

Kagome pressed her lips together again, grazing her fingers over the large leaves that waited for their next dosage of moisture as they strolled along.

“Thing about her is, she keeps secrets better than any adult I’ve ever met. So, if you’d like to see what she has to ask you but you’re worried about you’re answers getting out, don’t be. Mayu would take it to the grave. And, Satoru - because they come in a pair - barely speaks to begin with, and his loyalty lies with his twin. If she’s keeping a secret, so is he.” Shinosuke added, carefully maneuvering Kagome around a puddle.

“It’s alright.” She spoke softly, smiling. “I don’t mind. I’ll talk with her next -“

“There you are!” Wakana cheerfully greeted from over the second story bannister, overlooking the courtyard. “I’ve been looking for you two.”

“What’s up?” Shinosuke asked.

“Inuyasha’s awake. Kagome, would you like to see him?”

Kagome’s heart gave a heavy thump in her chest, and her skin ignited in an excited eruption of warmth. With an anxious breath, she nodded eagerly, rushing the rest of the way toward the main house where Wakana agreed to meet them on the first floor.

“Here’s the thing: he’s a little grumpy at the moment. Not very talkative, speaks with more grunts than words, seems perpetually upset but won’t admit he’s in any pain when we ask…” Wakana mentioned as she guided them through the corridors.

“That’s actually normal.” Kagome replied, pursing her lips.

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah.” She remarked, nodding. “Inuyasha’s not known for his compassion, I’ll tell you that. He likes to handle things on his own, so I’d say, if he’s not wincing or yelling at you, he’s fine.”

“Oh, okay. Well, in that case, he’s pretty lively. He’s sitting up with minimal problem, but he’s been asking for you. I told him to eat and we’d go and find you after, but he refused. Said he didn’t want food. Or medicine. He really should have something in his stomach before his next dose - given he stops declining it. Maybe you could convince him to try and eat?” Wakana inquired, turning to look at Kagome while they walked as she was a few steps behind.

“He doesn’t listen to me.” Kagome objected with a modest shake of her head.

Both Wakana and Shinosuke shot surprised looks at her, and Kagome felt herself go on cautious alert, almost freezing.

“You’re kidding.”

“No?” She replied, confused. “Inuyasha never listens to me.” Kagome reiterated.

“I’m sorry, I sort of thought you two were on a… how do I put it? I sort of thought you two were on a level where you take each other’s advice.”

“Oh, Inuyasha’s stubbornness puts mine to shame. He doesn’t like to be told what to do. All it does is make him want to do the exact opposite. And, if I give him advice, he just thinks it’s nagging.”

“Wait, hold on, hold on. Pause.” Shinosuke said, stopping in the middle of the hall with a hand held out to halt her. Kagome’s wide eyes landed on him, lips parted in question. “What are you two?”

There was hesitation, dubiety, as Kagome did a gentle sway from side to side before finally speaking again. “What - uh - what do you mean?”

“Like, what are you and Inuyasha?”

Kagome glanced back and forth from Shinosuke to Wakana, noticing the same question was written all over Wakana’s face. “I - I don’t -“

“You know exactly what I’m asking.”

“I - uh - we are… friends.”

“Uh-huh, why did that sound like a question?” Shinosuke interrogated, crossing his arms over his chest while he arched a brow, smirking now.

“I-it wasn’t. It wasn’t.” She ended up saying with more confidence the second time. “We’re friends.”

“You’re friends?”

“We’re friends.” Kagome couldn’t help the nervous smile she’d cracked that time. She bit the inside of her lip, her swaying growing more obvious to speak of her discomfort and uncertainty. And, she cursed herself for that as she fiddled with the long sleeves of her borrowed dress.

“Are you sure?”

“We’re friends. We’re friends. We’re friends.” Kagome repeated awkwardly, nodding as she looked back and forth between the two. “We’re friends.”

“Say it one more time, you might just convince yourself.” Shinosuke remarked, chuckling.

“We’re -“ Kagome caught herself, pinching her lips together as she deflated slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” Wakana started, grimacing. “I thought you two might have been in a relationship. We all did.”

“Everyone thinks that?” Kagome apprehensively asked.

“Could you blame us?” Shinosuke spoke, amused. “I don’t know friends who sleep that close to each other. Not the way we found you two.”

“Well, maybe you should try it.” Kagome feigned attitude, pursing her lips. “It’s comforting.”

“Mhm, I know. I sleep like that with Wakana.” He sassed right back.

Kagome’s attention snapped Wakana’s way just in time to watch her roll her eyes.

“We’re engaged.” She said.

“Oh,” Kagome nodded. “Well, that makes sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Shinosuke pressed, laughing as he caught Kagome in her own shock.

She’d opened her mouth to speak, to say anything in defense, but nothing came out. She was flustered and confused.

“It’s okay not to know.” He chuckled, patting her head again. “But, I gotta tell you, you’re not just friends.”

An overwhelming sense of bashfulness washed over Kagome then. Her face went hot and she ducked it. She couldn’t remember a time she’d blushed so horribly, and as she gazed down at the floor, she caught how red her chest even appeared at the bottom of her eyes. Her feelings were obvious. By now, she got that. Being called on it didn’t change how humiliating it was, and it only increased her confusion.

Shinosuke placed his hands on her shoulders, guiding her to walk down the hall while she couldn’t help but continue to hide her embarrassment. She and Inuyasha were friends. That wasn’t a lie. But, she couldn’t speak for his feelings. If anyone were to ask her how he felt about her, the only things she was certain about were his undeniable protectiveness, his caring nature whenever she wasn’t feeling well or they were alone, and that she annoyed the absolute hell out of him. If Shinosuke and Wakana were to have asked Kagome for her individual feelings for Inuyasha though, her answer would have been different. And, much more rattled. Because, she cared about Inuyasha now more than she cared even for herself. She appreciated the hanyou more than the water she drank or the food she ate. She had an attachment to him she never wanted to think about giving up. And, after witnessing his brutal injury yesterday, seeing blood stain his body, having to catch him as he fell, she dreadfully feared losing him in more ways than one. She felt it all so deeply. To the point where she couldn’t sleep last night unless she was touching him. To the point where he was on her mind constantly in their mandatory separation. To the point where the closer they got to his quarters, the more unnerved and stable she felt herself becoming - like a walking case of contradiction.

But, the moment the door was open, and Wakana walked in ahead of them to greet whatever staff was alongside the hanyou, and Shinosuke released her shoulders to enter in before him, and the moment her brown eyes found Inuyasha sitting on his futon, lower body covered by the blanket, back leaning against the wall, and torso heavily bandaged, all of those thoughts faded away. They were insignificant and superficial. They didn’t match up to the way he sat up a little taller at her appearance, bringing a small cringe of pain from his lips. They didn’t equate to the way she watched the breath leave his inflated chest, and how his golden eyes stayed on her as she hurried across the room to him. They didn’t matter in the face of how much she just needed to be right next to him at that very instant, and those thoughts that had her feeling scared had vanished completely. Maybe it was momentarily, but that was inconsequential. Because, she was just inches from his arm now, she could smell his clean scent, and she could feel the body heat that reached her like a hand that pulled her in.

Inuyasha had finally caught her scent again. It was something he hated about stormy weather. Rain clouded his olfactory system, and if something or someone wasn’t close by, he’d never be able to tell where they were. It was different to sleep without her aroma near him, and he was sure that if it weren’t for whatever drugs they kept putting in his body, he’d have never drifted off in the first place. The moment he regained consciousness not too long ago, noticing women by his side that weren’t Kagome, cleaning his wounds, changing his wrappings, he felt out of sorts. All he could think about was her, worry about was her. Who were these women? Where was Kagome? She’d been hurt the day before. Was she being taken care of? He vaguely remembered a woman telling him Kagome was being carefully protected for his own peace of mind the last time he was awake, but that was no fucking comfort whatsoever. He didn’t trust anyone with her, let alone someone he had never fucking met, himself.

The moment her calming scent, subtle and light, found its way into his sensitive nose, Inuyasha was on alert, watching the door to his room and ignoring the staff that had been left with him. They were trying to get him to take medicine, trying to get him to lay back down if he wasn’t going to eat so they could put a cooling rag on his head for his splitting migraine, but it was as if they weren’t even there anymore the second he sensed Kagome coming. Then, she entered, and even coherent thought ceased to exist.

That dress. That dress adorning her fair skin. It was both cruel to him and enticing. It complimented her figure, it flowed around her legs, it belonged to her body and should never be replaced. Kagome sped across the floor to rejoin him at his side, cutting off his clear view, and he found himself dissatisfied. He wasn’t done. She couldn’t enter a room like a goddess here to grace his presence and not give him ample timing to properly memorize the image.

Still, be that as it may, his gaze followed her. It wasn’t an order his brain gave to his eyes and head as she sat by his damaged arm, anxious and relieved. Inuyasha legitimately couldn’t take his eyes off of her. If he had that sort of control, if he did himself the injustice by looking away before he was ready, he would have cursed himself for days to come. If he couldn’t take her all in, he was going to take in as much as he could.

He was breathless, dazed, but in his right mind. Kagome had him captivated. She walked in and her smile reached his soul. All at once, he was stunned and comforted. And, he was grateful.

She’d asked him if he was okay. He hadn’t heard her words, spoken so lightly, but he’d watched her lips move. With his left hand, Inuyasha reached across to her, his finger gently rubbing just beneath her chin as he nodded. He was going to speak, but his amber irises fell to her shoulders, the skin he’d yet to be fortunate enough to really see until now. Small, brown and tan freckles dotted her shoulder. There weren’t an abundance, but there were just enough to steal his focus. With everything in him, he wanted to kiss each and every one, and with everything in him, he reminded himself that it was the wrong place at the wrong time.

“This arm,” Kagome mentioned, looking down at the bandaged shoulder and bicep. “You can’t really move it, can you? I should switch to the other side.”

She glanced to the woman that occupied his left, about to ask if she’d mind switching with her before Inuyasha finally spoke.

Now was his chance. The golden opportunity. “No, it’s - it’d be better if you sat in front of me. My neck’s stiff, so turning it sucks right now.” He fibbed.

“Oh, okay.” She obliged with a nod, scooting herself to sit by his thigh. Her back was now turned to the entrance, fully facing her companion as she gently leaned against his leg. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Better.” Now he could get a perfect look at her.

Kagome was trying not to concentrate on his torso, on the wrappings that dressed his bare core. It would only increase her obvious concern, and it wasn’t something she wanted to immediately bother Inuyasha with. Instead, she occupied her sights with anything else; his fingers that rubbed against the blanket covering him, his soft gaze on her, his long hair that wasn’t held captive in a high ponytail like she was so used to, then the tray of food at his side.

“You haven’t eaten, have you?” Though she knew the answer already, she figured it was respectful to allow him to speak for himself.

Inuyasha looked down to his untouched food, the bowl of fruit, the bread, the meat, the rice. He couldn’t think about eating before when all that occupied his mind was Kagome. He needed to know she was okay before he even considered taking a bite.

“No.” He lightly replied.

“Did you eat this morning?”

He shook his head.

“That means the last time you ate was yesterday morning, Inuyasha.” She gently reminded, her brow curved in concern. “Do you not have an appetite, or -“

“Have you eaten?” Inuyasha interrupted, eyeing her.

He noticed the way the hollow of her throat emphasized with her inhale as her lips sealed for a second, her shoulders tensing the slightest bit. She was quick to relax, her fingers playing with the loose skirt of her dress. “Yeah, I ate not too long ago.”

“Did you?” He questioned skeptically.

“I did.” Kagome nodded.

The hanyou looked over to the tall guard at the far end of the room, standing next to the woman he’d seen more often than Kagome in the last twenty-four hours. “You the one who’s watching her?”

“I am.”

“What’s your name?”

“Shinosuke.”

“Has she eaten? She tends to not be able to stomach much when she’s uncomfortable or anxious.”

Kagome stiffened at the correct observation. She hadn’t realized Inuyasha paid attention to the mundane details of her characteristics, especially well enough to be able to relay it to others. That was something she didn’t much talk about, nor necessarily know when or how to bring up. So, she’d eat a little when food was placed before her to curb worry, but when her stomach told her to stop, she’d heed the warning.

Shinosuke fought his smug grin, watching the conjurer slowly duck her head. Though he couldn’t see her face from where he stood, he knew - just fucking knew - she was blushing again. Yeah, okay. They’re friends, alright.

“She had some fruit a couple of hours ago. Didn’t eat it all.”

“Just fruit?” Inuyasha’s attention shifted back to Kagome.

“More than you’ve eaten.” She remarked.

He chuckled lightly. She had him there. “I’ll share with you. I’m not that hungry, either.”

“We can go get her her own plate. It’s no trouble at all.” The housemaid on his left said, but Inuyasha shook his head.

“We’ll share. It’s fine.” It was his own way of protecting her from feeling obligated to eat more than she could handle out of sheer courtesy.

Kagome looked at the food as he placed the tray on his lap. The heavier stuff was incredibly unappealing. It looked like it tasted great, but the thought of eating it had her tummy turning upside down. In silent communication to her partner, she glanced from the meal to the hanyou, sucking in her bottom lip nervously.

Inuyasha understood what she was conveying. She really couldn’t eat too much right now. “You like strawberries, right?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, her tone small.

“Here.” Inuyasha picked the strawberries out of his bowl, putting them in the corner of the tray nearest her.

“But -“

“I don’t like them.” He lied. Inuyasha knew she was about to reject, not wanting to take the option of something sweet from him that he may enjoy, but he really didn’t care. He wanted her to eat, and if she liked them, she could have them all.

Both Shinosuke and Wakana had pressed their lips firmly together to hide their grins, giving each other little side glances as their surprise continued to escalate. Their hanyou guest was now eating, something Wakana couldn’t get him to do no matter how much she'd tried. How did Kagome question anything? How did she not see what everyone else could see? It was innocent and adorable, and a crime to interrupt.

“Ladies, let’s give them some space.” Wakana suggested, clapping her hands together once. “There’s no need for us to be here right now.”

The few staff in the room bowed slightly in compliance and rose to leave, the patter from their feet heard as they trailed toward the door.

“I’ll be back in a little while to give you some medicine. If you need anything in the meantime, we’ll be down the hall.”

Finally, they were left alone. Inuyasha felt the tension in his shoulders relax a little. Having eyes on him all the time was stressful and he fucking hated it. While he knew they were merely being kind and doing their jobs, it was still something he’d never grow accustomed to. More than that, Kagome was right where she belonged. No one was taking her away, no one was disrupting their time for the moment, and no one was playing bodyguard to the person he was supposed to protect.

“I need you to eat a little bit more than fruit, Kagome.” He tried, tearing off a chunk of his bread for her. “This or rice.”

“Tear that piece in half and you’ve got a deal.” She wagered.

“Nope.” He chuckled again, giving a minor wince from the pain it brought his abdomen. He recovered, hoping she hadn’t seen, but it was Kagome. Of course, she’d noticed. Her brown eyes were large with worry, a frown appearing, and she sat up a little straighter in preparation to help in any way she could had he needed any. “I’m fine.” Inuyasha assured.

She didn’t speak, sights drifting down to his bandaging. It was like she was waiting for blood to reappear.

“Hey,” The hanyou reached forward, taking her chin in his fingers and bringing her attention back up to his face. “Stop it. I’m okay. Eat the bread.”

“Your arm -“

“I can move it.” He mentioned, releasing her and giving her the chunk he’d torn off. “I just cant reach up or anything. Not yet. Give it another day or two.”

Not wanting to upset him right now, she decided not to argue or fight him on eating. If all he was requesting was for her to eat a few pieces of strawberries and a small chunk of bread, she could handle that.

He’d eaten as much as he could too, and as soon as they were finished, he placed the tray off to his side, leaving it there to be forgotten. Inuyasha went right back to taking the conjurer in, allowing the image of her in that dress to burn into the forefront of his mind. That soft shade of pink complimented her so well, especially when her face tinted just a bit darker. The glitter on her cheeks was a nice touch, but her hair dressed half up the way it was suited her so fucking well. It was cute. She was gorgeous. He was awestruck.

Kagome had caught him looking, quickly growing shy. Remembering the lower cut of her bust, Kagome covered the cleavage that showed, desperately not wanting to make him uncomfortable right now. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Inuyasha was swift to assure, reaching for her wrist and pulling it away. “Go back to how you were.”

Her skin was warm, and as her hand landed on her thigh, his own wandered down, playing with the fabric over it.

“Do you like it?” She asked curiously.

“Don’t make me answer that.” He tried not to let his tone convey how imperative it was that she didn’t push him in that direction. Inuyasha would lose his composure. He was already riding a fine line, but if he said yes, he’d feel compelled to further admit just how dangerous it was for him to be so near her while she looked like this. His heart wasn’t fairing well as it was. He wasn’t sure he could handle voicing that on top of it.

Kagome couldn’t help but grow increasingly nervous. He seemed hardened, maybe a little put off. Even though his fingers were continuously playing with the length of her dress, skimming her thigh over and over, she couldn’t help but worry with that answer that the clothing didn’t suit her as well as she’d thought.

“Do you hate it?” She unintentionally asked, her voice carrying smaller.

Amber eyes shot up to hers, then drifted down over the curve of her body. He hadn’t meant to come off any sort of negative way, though he understood how it’d happened. Hate. It was laughable to imagine that, given his current state of mind. If she had a way in, she’d understand that hate was far from what he actually felt.

“No. Not at all.” Inuyasha answered, sucking in a breath to keep himself grounded. Her scent was heavy and soothing, and as he found himself staring at her plush lips, he realized that the strawberry tint had him wanting to kiss her now more than any other time he’d considered it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even blame the medicine for the thoughts that wouldn’t quiet this time. In an attempt to silence them anyway, he continued to speak. “Where did this come from?”

“Wakana. She likes to make dresses.” Kagome answered, a smile curving her lips upward.

“Is she the lady that woke us up this morning?”

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s the headman’s daughter.”

“Oh, that’s right. I vaguely remember her mentioning that, but I was fucking out of it when she did.”

“She’s super nice. Unfortunately, my clothes didn’t survive, so I’m stuck borrowing some until we figure something out. She mentioned making me something, but it might be easier for everyone if we just head to a shop.” She said, fighting her instinct to adjust her dress again.

“Did your bodice make it?” Inuyasha smirked teasingly. As he watched a dramatic pout form on her lips, he really had to put effort into not laughing. The motion would only hurt him, and he wasn’t sure she needed that right now - though she’d have to deal with the amused expression he couldn’t hide.

“It tore.” Kagome whined.

“Called it.”

“Shut up.” She gave a light smack on his thigh, her pout remaining.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the bandage on her head, or the one on her knuckles, and it was impossible to ignore the scrape he’d gotten a peek at on the back of her shoulder and the redness that didn’t belong on her cheekbone. It just wasn’t something he wanted to talk about first. Now that they were in the realm of the subject, Inuyasha grabbed her hand, pulling her to lean closer to him so he could push her bangs out of the way. No blood seeped through the bandage, so at least he knew it wasn’t bad. Still, his memory of her condition was extremely foggy.

He hadn’t forgotten the horrible amount of blood staining her stomach and arm, though. How could he? That, unfortunately, stayed with him even while he was unconscious. Without warning, Inuyasha’s palm found her waist and he pressed against it gently, feeling for wrappings he was worried she would lie about. When he felt nothing, his hand continued to travel over the general area he’d remembered the blood being in. If she winced, he’d feel awful but at least he’d know she was wounded and couldn’t keep it from him.

“What are you doing?” Kagome asked, concerned. Inuyasha didn’t answer, but his earlier amusement had gradually vanished, shifting to something pressing and off. His jaw was clenched, but instead of the furrowed look of his brow she’d grown used to, it was curved upward in distress.

The only flinch she’d made was when he pinched around her ribs, and he knew he’d only tickled her; it wasn’t one of pain. Still, he searched, breaking from her abdomen momentarily to pull her right arm out of the part in the loose sleeve, looking for signs of wounds. The flesh wasn’t broken at all along her forearm, but still she’d been covered in blood. She’d said it wasn’t hers, but there was so much. There was so fucking much. It was like he was realizing his worst fear, and all that flashed through his mind was how that green shirt clung to her stomach wherever the crimson had soaked.

“Were you hurt? What happened, Kagome?” He finally asked, once more touching her waist to feel if he’d missed something.

“I’m fine.” She’d stated, almost unsure. But, then it clicked. She understood what he was looking for. “No, no. That blood wasn’t mine. I was attacked by a demon, but that was his blood. I swear.”

“Kagome, how the fuck…” It wasn’t that he was exasperated. It was that he desperately needed to know. He’d agitated his nerves just now, and all he could think about was her hurt, mortally wounded while he couldn’t get to her.

“Do you want to see? Would that help? There’s nothing there, I promise.”

“Show me.” The hanyou hastily agreed.

She was quick to oblige, reaching for a clean towel off to the side. Skillfully, she shoved it beneath her dress to blanket the upper portion of her thighs, covering up what didn’t need to be seen as she then pulled the skirt up to expose her tummy. Kagome allowed him to look as long as he needed, to feel the skin of her abdomen, to reach around to her back and feel for any bandages or wounds - the both of them ignoring his grunt and wince as he leaned forward for better reach.

“It wasn’t mine.” Kagome swore again, lowering her garment as he sat back against the wall. She discarded the towel and breathed out, ready to relay the events that had unfolded. “The demon came out of nowhere, and grabbed me from behind. My arrows spilled everywhere, so it turned into a head-on fight. I got him pretty good.” She smirked with the hint of pride, raising her right hand as she looked down at her bandaging.

Inuyasha tenderly took her fingers, bringing it closer to him. Her knuckles were wrapped tight, and to his dismay, there was the slightest hint of pink poking through the off-white wrappings. He didn’t release her hand. He didn’t want to. He lightly stroked his thumb over her wound, lowering it to his thigh to hold there as he glanced back at her to get the rest of the story.

“The blood came from me stabbing him. He was on top of me so I used my dagger to get him in the side.”

“With purification?” He inquired.

“Of course.” Kagome answered.

“So, he’s dead?”

The memory of the demon’s body collapsing on top of her lit up in her mind, and her throat tightened. Swallowing thickly to try and subdue the discomfort, to try and keep it all from view so Inuyasha didn’t have that to add to his list of worries as well, Kagome took in a breath and nodded. “Yes. He’s dead.”

The hanyou let that information sink in, remaining quiet as he now held her hand with the both of his. His thumbs played over the bandaging, calloused skin scratching on the cloth’s surface, but when it skimmed down to her soft flesh, he felt a small sense of peace spread over him. So, he kept up that action, over and over rubbing his thumbs across her knuckles and toward the uncovered skin, then back. She took care of herself, just like she’d proved she could. Just like he knew she could. He would have felt better ripping that fucker to shreds, though. He’d said it before and he’ll say it as many times as necessary: no one touches Kagome.

Still, he was extremely proud of her. She held her own and then appeared in the nick of time to help his ass out. What a fucking woman.

“In that case, you look pretty good for someone who went toe-to-toe with a demon.” He lightly chuckled.

“Thank you.” She playfully grinned, raising her shoulders in feigned smugness. “I had to show him who was boss.”

“Honestly, I’m starting to think you could actually kick my ass.”

“Nah, that guy was just cocky and talked too much. I used all of that against him, pinned him down, and punched him in the face.”

“You punched him in the face?” He laughed, regretting it but that time he was able to properly hide his discomfort.

“Yes!” Kagome tightened the fingers he held. “He had sharp teeth, so it cut my knuckle, that jerk. But, I still got him.”

She was fucking cute as all hell as she raised her left arm and flexed her bicep, the slit in the long sleeves opening to fall away so he could see the definition. It brought the biggest smile to Inuyasha’s face. She really was okay. She was perfect.

“So, I take it you saw?” Inuyasha had to ask, his grin dwindling to a small, careful one. He found himself needing to know what was going through her mind. Why was she so anxious? Sure, it was unpleasant to be separated while he was wounded; he could see himself physically throwing people off of him that tried to keep him away from her had their positions been swapped. But, he remembered the way she looked when she came in last night. He vividly remembered her visible fear, the frown, but worst of all, there was a vague remembrance of her expression this morning. When Wakana woke them up and Kagome noticed his stomach. The way she’d stopped breathing and looked damn close to panicking. Of course, she’d seen the extent of his damage. He’d hoped she hadn’t seen it uncovered. But, had she seen it take place? “Moryomaru, when he… Did you?”

Her own smile faded then, and after a deep breath, she scooted herself a little closer to his torso, careful of how she leaned on his hip. She took one of his hands then, placing it in her lap as she busied herself, running her fingers over the lines of his palm. Brown eyes could no longer meet amber, instead staring down at the trail she left over his skin. It had been impossible to get that image out of her mind. Kagome knew it was something that, much like Shinosuke had mentioned, would stick with her forever. The only reason it wasn’t crippling her was because she knew Inuyasha was alive, and his condition was only improving.

“Yeah,” She breathed. “I saw.”

“Ah, fuck.” Inuyasha groaned. “I was really fucking hoping you hadn’t since you were busy fighting someone.”

“Our fight ended just before.”

“Kid, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Her gaze shot up to his, her upper lip curled in question. “For what?”

“If I had seen that happen to you, I would have lost my mind. I can only imagine what you felt watching that. I didn’t mean to make you worry. Fuck, that’s why you haven’t been eating, isn’t it?”

She softened, allowing her fingers to trail over the veins of his forearm for a moment. When her nail gently skimmed the thin skin of his inner elbow, she noticed a small twitch from him. A tickle spot.

“No, that’s not it.” Kagome admitted, the corners of her lips very subtly raising. “Well, I guess it’s a contribution, but really it’s because I miss you. I should be right next to you so I know you’re okay every second of the day, but I can’t be and I don’t like that. I don’t feel content not hearing you call me an idiot or kid or something mean because you’re unconscious, and not being able to help in any way doesn’t sit right with me. But, I also understand that they’re right to pull me away. You need to rest. And, you wouldn’t with me here.”

She was breaking him. He could feel any remaining borders between them beginning to shatter like glass with each statement she spoke. Her sincerity was his welcomed demise. The power Kagome had over him with her honesty was so much more incredible than Inuyasha could have ever imagined, and his heart climbed into his throat. How did she say that all so easily? How did she brighten even the worst of his days? She missed him.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he caught the sound of walking approaching. Inuyasha outwardly cursed, knowing that it was Wakana coming to force his next dose down his throat and Kagome’s temporary guard coming to take her away. With the remaining seconds he had, he looked back to the conjurer, bringing her right hand to his lips as he kissed her damaged knuckle just before releasing her.

“Sneak back over tonight.”

Kagome’s heart gave a heavy thump inside of her ribcage, damn near bruising the bones in its excitement. With a nervous agreement, Kagome nodded, trying to keep composure as even she caught the footsteps and comprehended his reaction.

The door slid open and in walked Wakana, the housemaid Kagome had threatened the day before, and Shinosuke with his notorious smirk. The housemaid remained by the wall, visibly uncomfortable as she refused to make eye contact with either she or Inuyasha. With a grimace, Kagome’s attention flew over to her companion, silently communicating with an awkward but amused expression that she knew exactly what the girl’s stiffness was about.

Inuyasha read her well. He’d remembered her mentioning she’d almost fought someone to stay with him, and given the housemaids opposition to near either, and Kagome’s humored but ashamed smile, along with the way her eyes flickered between the woman and he, he put two-and-two together. With as much effort he could muster, he tried - really tried - to fight back his laughter. For the sake of the housemaid’s dignity, Kagome’s embarrassment, and his sore abdomen. Still, a small snort left his nose, and he ducked his head to the side to try and further stifle it.

“Matsu, would you mind brewing the tea? Remember, three dashes this time.” Wakana spoke, putting her aid to work. The woman gave a feeble nod, immediately doing as requested but still keeping her head low.

“That woman’s fine whenever you’re not around.” Inuyasha whispered to Kagome, giving a small tug to a section of her free length of hair. Another amused but embarrassed grimace came from her in response as she covered her grin with her hand so that Matsu wouldn’t see how funny this was to her. “You fucking troublemaker.”

“Ready to go?” Shinosuke asked from the doorway.

Kagome peered at him from over her shoulder, curling her upper lip in disdain before turning back to Inuyasha.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Wait.” He ordered quietly just as she began to stand, wagging his finger so she’d lean in closer. As she did, her brows arched in curiosity, he asked, “This guy, is he trustworthy? Do you feel safe with him?”

“Well, he skillfully protected me from a ten year old so far, so he’s not half bad.”

“Seriously, Kagome.” He deadpanned.

“Um, I’m - I’m not lying.” She liked that Inuyasha couldn’t help but crack half a smile there as he rolled his eyes. “He’s attentive, and pretty cool. Likes to joke around, but I can tell he’s serious about his duties. Follows me everywhere -“

“Has he touched you?”

“Yeah, but only appropriately. Unless he’s being a jerk and carrying me out of the room over his shoulder.”

“Like I’m about to.” Shinosuke commented with a chuckle, strutting forward. “You know, you two don’t whisper as quietly as you think you do.”

Inuyasha leveled a glare at the guard as he kneeled right beside Kagome, looking him once over.

“What’s up?” He asked, smiling, unfazed by the clearly unwelcoming attitude the hanyou presented. “Ah, I get it. You don’t know me, so you don’t know if you can trust me with Kagome here. Alright, what would you like to know? Name’s Shinosuke, I’m twenty-four, used to be a chubby kid, favorite color’s red, I like long walks on the beach -“

“Knock it off.” Inuyasha drawled. “You’re not making me like you.”

“Not trying to. That’s not in my pay grade.”

“Shinosuke!” Wakana warned, approaching. “Inuyasha, I’m sorry. He’s got awful people skills, but he is in charge of our guards. With everything you two did for our people, and with how protective papa noticed you were of Kagome, he felt it would give you peace of mind to know our very best was watching over her.”

“Just leave her with me. She’ll be fine. She doesn’t want to go, anyway.”

“And, what’s to happen to her while you’re in your medicinally-induced coma?” Shinosuke challenged, that smug grin never fading.

“Kagome can take care of herself.”

“So, you’d rather she be left alone to worry about you. Alright. Makes my life easier.” He shrugged, rising to a stand.

“Oh, you son of a bitch.” Inuyasha ground out through clenched teeth. He turned to Wakana. “I don’t like the mind games he plays.”

Wakana quickly used the back of her hand to slap Shinosuke’s arm, silently reprimanding him with her scowl. The guard winced, grimacing but still laughing.

“What? I got through to him.”

“Just take her.” Inuyasha rolled his eyes pridefully, giving Kagome’s thigh one last stroke of his palm.

“You heard the man. Come on, tiny might.” Shinosuke boasted, reaching to grab the back of Kagome’s dress and lift her up.

“That name again?” She complained, following his leverage and quickly standing.

“By the way, you don’t have to worry about me touching her inappropriately.” He said down to Inuyasha as the half demon ground his jaw uncomfortably. “Not that kind of guy, and I’m pretty sure your girl here would twist my pinky off. Not to mention,” He gestured to Wakana. “Fiancee.”

It took a small moment, but after watching Wakana nod in reassurance, Inuyasha found himself relaxing slightly. He still wasn’t a fan of the fact that someone else was looking over Kagome, but it surprisingly eased him a lot to know that there was no physical or romantic attraction taking place. Especially while Kagome looked as she did now. Inuyasha found his shoulders dropping an inch, his frown lessening, and a nod of acknowledgment coming forward.

Without another word, Shinosuke grabbed Kagome’s shoulders and guided her toward the door, stopping after just a few steps to make her face the incoming housemaid that carried the brewed tea over.

“See, Matsu. She’s harmless.”

The woman tensed considerably and ducked her head, eyes landing on the floor while her hands wrapped around the tray even tighter. Kagome was taken aback by the woman’s trepidation, her jaw dropping as she couldn’t help but look back over at Inuyasha. Never in her life had she caused a single person to fear her as much as this woman currently did. Not even her younger brother took her this seriously.

“She’s harmless!” Shinosuke urged, laughing. Even he was surprised by the housemaid’s reaction.

“She - uh - she killed Moryomaru, sir.” Matsu softly said as a way to prove Kagome was, in fact, not harmless.

“You know what, I’ll give it to you. You’ve got me there.” The guard bobbed his head. “You seem fine around Inuyasha, though.”

Matsu didn’t say anything. She merely stood there, eyes on the tray of herbal tea as she bounced from foot-to-foot.

“You - you realize he’s half demon, don’t you?”

“I am aware, sir.” She answered.

“Kagome, you damn ruffian.” Shinosuke snickered, shoving her toward the exit and away from the apprehensive housemaid. “You’re seriously gonna tell me the nickname’s still undeserved?”

“I’m sorry!” She guffawed, stumbling, once more looking back at Inuyasha as she laughed. The hanyou merely watched her exasperatedly, his large hand swiping down his face as he silently communicated his dumbfounded nature.

“You scarred the poor girl!” Shinosuke jokingly harassed, pushing her out the door.

Just before she disappeared, she shared one last, bright smile with Inuyasha, waving goodbye to him with the promise to see him soon.

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#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #monster #akitokihojo

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starlight-writes-stuff · 3 years

Note

SO HEAR ME OUT an nsfw alphabet for draco

hey bestie - im literally so excited to do this (: i have a guilty pleasure of reading nsfw alphabets so u really hit the nail on the head with this request . n e ways , enjoy !

AYO LOOK AT THESE ! : smut (duh but still) , hair pulling , breeding k!nk , unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it) , masturbation , choking , light bondage , praise kink , general adult themes and content so please only read if ur okay with that .

reblogs are always appreciated ! <3 ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

draco is the literal definition of a fluff fic after sex - hes so soft and loving and affectionate . if the sex was on the rougher side , draco goes out of his way to kiss any bruises , cuts , or red marks he may have left on you, soothing the sinfully painful spots with soft touches of his suddenly gentle fingertips.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

draco is built like a greek mf god , and he knows it . he’s all lean , toned muscles and his alabaster pale skin only makes him look more ethereal . draco is quite proud of his body and isn’t afraid to show off if needed.

draco literally loves everything about you , and you’ve tried over and over to get him to pick his most favorite - he never does it because he’s a stubborn little shit and refuses to let you think that he values one part of you over any other . finally , you wore him down to coming up with a top 3 : your hands , your hair , and your chest .

your hands as they fit perfectly in his , they brush his hair out of his eyes with a gentleness that melts him every time (and the way you dig your nails into his back or his arms iykyk) .

draco loves your hair mostly because its the exact opposite of his own ; long , thick , and chocolate brown . he’s constantly playing with your hair , whether that's running his hands through it or gently tugging on it to get your attention . he would kill you if you ever told anyone , but draco taught himself how to braid your hair so he would have something repetitive to do to calm his anxiety .

draco loves your chest : he's such a boob guy . he is such a boob guy . even in a non-sexual context , draco loves having his hands up your shirt just feeling how soft your breasts are , the way that he can feel your heartbeat if you’re still enough . when things are getting *frisky* draco loves your tits - in his hands , using his mouth on them , titty-fucking you , literally everything .

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

draco has a huge breeding kink , but is simultaneously terrified of getting you pregnant. he knows that he wants to be a dad eventually , but draco malfoy is the king of daddy issues™ and can’t fathom having a child right now .

that doesn’t stop him from filling you up with his cum every time you guys fuck - draco loves watching your face as you take his entire load , begging him not to pull out .

once he does , though , draco’s head is immediately between your legs watching his manhood drip out of you , fingering it out of you while you whimper at the way he seems to hit all the right spots .

he’s extremely thankful for the tiny , yellow birth control pills that you’re on , and he reminds you every day to take them .

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

draco had never , ever said i love you to someone during or after sex until the two of you had your first time . now , its a normal occurrence for draco to tell you how much he loves you as he thrusts into your pretty , fucked out body . he lets his forehead fall to yours , moaning the words in between heavy breaths as he finishes inside you .

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

draco had a couple of hookups , and a complicated friends with benefits situation before the two of you got together , so he was somewhat experienced by the time you guys finally got down to it . he made sure you felt so good the entire time , using every trick in his book to make you cum around him over and over until he reached completion as well .

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

draco is a sucker for regular old missionary . he likes being able to watch your face as you take every inch of him , watching your facial expressions change and morph under the influence of his pleasure . if he’s eager to feel you - all of you - draco will hook one of your legs over his shoulders , giving him better access to your sex . this is the one instance where draco wont keep eye contact with you : he can't resist watching himself slide in and out of you , coated in your cum .

however

he's an absolute sucker for you riding him , too . he loves to let you take control and chase your pleasure - plus the visual of you bouncing up and down on his cock , eyes rolling back into your head as you hit all the right spots is enough to send him over the edge . if you get tired while on top , draco will gladly hold your hips in place , fucking up into you until you practically collapse into him , entirely taken over by the force of your orgasm.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

intimacy is something that didn’t come easy for you and draco; he’d never been with someone that he actually loved before you . there was a deep intensity to the emotions shared between you two during sex , and draco viewed that time between the both of you as something almost sacred . foreplay , or just general teasing can be silly with you two , but making love is more serious .

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

draco keeps himself trimmed , but not entirely clean shaven , and the hair down there is darker than his signature white-blond locs .

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

(refer back to g but i could talk about this for days) draco is incredibly romantic when it comes to sex . your first time was like something out of a movie - draco had lit candles everywhere , filling the room with soft , flickering light , as well as changing the sheets on your bed to a soft , white cotton . he’d taken his time making you comfortable ; you and draco had talked through all your fears for hours before he laid a hand on you . once you were ready , draco’s touches had been soft and slow and tender all over your body - he’d made you feel like the angel you were . quickly , you learned that draco wasn’t like that just because it had been your first time ; draco made an effort to make sex just as special every time.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

draco was raised thinking that masturbation was a shameful act , something dirty and below him (you literally can not tell me that this isn't true i'll fight it until the day i die . as much as i love narcissa the malfoy family fkn sucks and they damaged draco so bad . anyways) so it’s very rare that he’ll get himself off. when he does , its somewhere where he can quickly get rid of the evidence , such as the shower .

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

while draco makes sex between you two meaningful and special , that doesn’t mean that he’s afraid to be rough (after yall have had a long talk about it before where you gave him enthusiastic consent ofc . )

draco loves to pull your hair or wrap a hand around your throat while he’s hitting it from the back , so much so that he’ll bring your back up to his chest .

he really enjoys a bit of light choking here and there - just enough to watch your pretty face flush with blood , making your moans the slightest bit weaker .

draco loves to tie your hands up above your head while he’s eating you out as well ; it makes you take all the pleasure he’s willing to give , and he lives for the way your body writhes and bucks under his skillful tongue.

you literally can not tell me that draco doesn’t have a praise kink - both giving and receiving . draco loves to tell you how good of a job your doing whether you're sucking him off or taking all of him inside you , and he’s constantly reassuring you that you’re doing such a good job.

however

he fucking loves when you praise him as well (my theory as to why is so fkn sad so we wont go over that here) but that boy lives for you telling him how good he’s making you feel , and when you encourage him nodding and whining for him to go faster . its the one thing that undoes him almost immediately , and he flushes furiously every time you tell him just how fantastic he’s doing .

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

you and draco rarely get it on outside of your bedrooms at hogwarts , or your childhood rooms when you’re home for the summer - but there’s an exception to every rule. draco has absolutely ruined you in the quidditch changing rooms after a rather brutal loss , and he’s the king of shower sex , too.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

praise !! draco loves you telling him how good his dick feels , or his tongue , or his hands . he also appreciates when you’re rather direct with him - telling draco exactly where you want him , what you want him to do - it drives him absolutely insane . hearing such dirty words come from your sweet , innocent mouth kills him , and it makes draco that much more excited.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there's nothing draco wouldn’t try at least once , but he’s rather uncomfortable with voyeurism. he hates the idea of anyone else seeing your body , watching how you wriggle and whine underneath him as he makes you cum . while the two of you have done it in some questionable locations , draco had made sure that no one could see .

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

while draco loves your mouth wrapped around him , that boy could spend all day between your legs . he's nothing short of obsessed with eating you out , and its one of his favorite things to do for you . he cant help the way it makes him feel - hearing you whimper and moan while you pull on his hair , your back arching off the bed when his tongue flicks in just the right way . he gets a sort of high from it , and absolutely prides himself on making you cum with just his tongue .

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it really depends on the day . draco loves fucking you slow , watching his manhood slide in and out of your pretty body coated in your arousal , but he cant resist fucking you so hard he leaves bruises , either . if its just a regular day , the two of you fall somewhere in between , a perfect mix of rough and sweet .

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

draco loves a good quickie every once in a while ! sometimes he needs a release , and your body is his favorite vessel . usually quickies are where the two of you get a little more risky - he’ll grab your arm , pulling you into an empty classroom or the shower and take you then and there .

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes and no . draco would try anything and everything , especially if you asked him to , but there are some things that are a one-and-done for him . the two of you are good at talking about that stuff - if something made one of you uncomfortable , the other would understand 100% . its all about the balance of boundaries and still being adventurous.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

draco would fuck you all day if you would let him . he can make you cum many , many times before he’ll allow himself to even get close , and even then his stamina is through the roof . he can go at least 3 rounds if not more , and switch positions as many times as you’d like .

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

while draco doesn’t mind you using toys on yourself , they do make him slightly jealous . you gently tease him about this sometimes , how he works himself into a sulk over an inanimate object - however, that usually leads to your hands tied to his headboard , draco holding a vibrator on your clit until you can’t take anymore orgasms.

you two have expirimented with using your vibrator during sex , but draco much prefers playing with your clit over using an outside source , and seretly , you do too . he’s amazing with his hands , and rubs tight , fast circles onto your sensitive nub while his hips snap against yours only intensifying the sensation .

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

draco loves to tease you - he likes to watch the way you come undone under the slightest touches of his hands . very rarely does he tease you for long - he can’t resist giving you what you want , what you’re begging him for in that high , breathy voice .

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s a loud motherfucker all the time , and the bedroom is no exception . draco’s moans are music to your ears , and they turn you on more than anything . his already rough voice only gets raspier , and deeper , too . he loves to talk dirty to you , but as he approaches his orgasm , he can barely form full sentences . his cocky pillow talk turns to almost desperate moans and whimpers as his thrusts get sloppier and quicker , his hips snapping against yours hard . his groans as he cums are heavenly , especially since he’s usually buried his head in your neck or dropped his forehead to yours by then .

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

we all know that draco have a superiority / god complex (as he should 😌) , and this manifests in the bedroom - you would’ve never known , though , if it weren’t for a complete accident . you and draco had been studying together , and he’d asked one of the yes or no questions written on a flashcard . not thinking about your actions , you’d answered the question with “no, sir” - then physically felt draco’s entire body stiffen underneath you . you’d picked up on it immediately , blood flooding your face as you’d asked him if he liked it .

yes , he did .

he loves when you call him sir as he’s fucking the life out of you - like , he has to stop himself from cumming on the spot .

when you want to fuck with him for whatever reason , you’ll jokingly call him ‘sir’ in front of your friends

you’ll pay for it later , though

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

mans is built in every sense of the word . draco is quite well endowed , which was something that took you a bit to get used to . he was never one to measure - it just seemed wrong to him , like he was doing something dirty - but by your estimations , draco is about 7 inches . he’s thicker than most , too , which only adds to your pleasure .

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

draco lives in a constant state of horny™ . he can’t help it - something about you brings out his most primal instincts . he’s so in love with you and your body that he can rarely keep his hands off of it , but he knows how to control himself . he tries to match your sex drive ; when yours is high , his is too , but he doesn’t mind waiting on you to give him the green light if you’re libido has been lower .

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

its safe to say that the both of you are extremley tired after sex - its quite the workout . draco is so soft once he’s finished , and he would live in that post-sex haze forever if he could ; he’s all sweet kisses and skin-to-skin contact , but he’ll usually wait until you fall asleep on him before he can drift off . something about making sure that you’re comfortable enough to sleep on him fills draco with a sense of immense pride . once you’ve fallen asleep, depending on how vigorous everything was , draco will usually fade pretty soon after ; on the off chance that he still has some energy , draco stays up and watches you . he looks at you as if you were a piece of art , usually following the soft lines and curves of your face with a gentle finger ; admiring you like the angel you are .

#draco #malfoy #dracomalfoy #draco malfoy #hp #alphabet #oneshot #blurb #request #ns/fw alphabet

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years

Text

Diary found in K---D--- : Part 2

So, here's the next little part of this :D

Imagine by @lathalea is indented!

Enjoy <3

Taglist: @shrimpsthings, @mulasawala (so you see where I'm going with this lol)

(Yes, there will be MORE artwork coming, stay posted...)

Fandom: Hobbit

Characters: Ori x OC

Rating & Warning: Fluff and silliness

His name was Ori and he was a scribe in Erebor. It turned out he visited the forest often to sketch the animals and plants. You spent the rest of the day together. In the evening, you exchanged campfire stories, sharing a meal. At one point, he shyly asked about where you came from. Blushing, he admitted, almost whispering, he never saw a person with such beautiful hair before.

You told him that you came from another world, from a region called East Asia, where many people looked similarly to you. He was very curious about your homeland, your culture and your world. You spent hours telling him everything about it and he listened to you in awe.

“Ori.” He replied, his lips quirking a tiny bit as if he was not used to speaking his own name. “I’m a scribe. In Erebor. The Mountain.” He pointed to a tree beyond the clearing.

Thankfully, I was familiar with the Lonely Mountain and did not think that he didn’t know the difference between a living organism and a pile of minerals.

“I have never seen you, neither here nor in that Mountain.” I replied, for I went into the halls sometimes to translate for travellers, but for the most part, I let the king be his grumpy, glorious self.

“I come here often, to sketch, but I seem to have lost my way.” He admitted with a tiny frown. Ah, a real dwarf. They only knew up and down seemingly and if there was no way into a hill, they’d stubbornly trek up until they tumbled off the other side again.

As if to prove to me that he was not lying – dear reader, he had a face that was utterly devoid of malice or dissimulation – he showed me rather good sketches of the fauna and flora of the dense forest surrounding us. “That is really good, Ori, the scribe, from under the Mountain.” I commented which made him blush with a fierce and, apparently, unexpected pleasure.

In an expression of indescribable cuteness, he literally wiped his face with his sleeve as if he could clean away the rosy hue like a stubborn ink stain from under his skin.

“What are you here for?” He then asked, pushing out his chest heroically. As a reminder, he was the one who had lost his way, but apparently, he wanted to defend either the forest from me or the other way around.

“I am here to think…in silence.” I replied; he retreated a few steps. “Oh? I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. It was great to make your acquaintance…”

I gave him my name, after all, he had given me his, and he chewed on it for a few moments before his face split into a smile that was like the sunlight breaking through the cloudy afternoon sky: tentative, warm, and strikingly beautiful.

“Stay. I like your face.” I heard myself saying. Maybe, it was my teasing, mischievous streak acting up, but I had liked his embarrassment so much that I couldn’t help wanting to coax more of these blushes out of him.

“My…face?” In that weird dance he had been engaged in for the last few minutes, Ori stepped closer again, shuffling his feet in the heavy boots dwarrows insisted on wearing.

No, your ass, I thought, but bit my tongue; Ori the dwarf looked like someone who would die on the spot if I said anything even remotely inappropriate…as I was wont to do when nervous.

My sarcastic thought spurred my own interest though and I examined him a little closer: he was indeed swaddled like a babe, beads of sweat pearling down his temples on account of the steep climb and the stubborn blush powdering his nose and cheeks with pink blotches.

“Sit down, you’ll get a heat stroke.” I invited him and pointed to a patch of moss beside me while rummaging in my pack for the flask of ale I had brought.

“Thank you ever so much.” He plopped down in a cascade of earthen-coloured wool and awkward limbs. He did smell warm, I noticed, a blend of cinnamon and comfort.

Also, he had one of those faces that only became better when seen up-close, I admit freely; there were golden stars dancing in the depth of his dark eyes and he had the most adorable freckles as if some outlandish fairy had sprinkled gold dust over that heart-wrenchingly handsome face.

“Are you thirsty, Mistress?” He asked, nodding at the flask in my hand.

Handing it to him rather abruptly, I realised that I had spent the last moments intently staring at his face as if I had never seen a male dwarf before in my life.

“I have work to do.” I snapped, feeling immediately guilty for taking my own embarrassment out on him, but he merely nodded and pulled his sketching supplies into his lap.

Strangely enough, Ori did not disturb me. If anything, the silence felt fuller, richer, deeper with him by my side. As I translated a letter, as a spinster I had to support my family and my insufferable sisters as best as I could, I felt like the chirping of the birds and the vibrancy of the colours around me were even more enjoyable now that I shared them with someone else.

…

The sun crept along its never-changing arc slowly and yet, much too fast.

As I looked up, I wished I was a better painter myself, for this dwarrow was made for sunsets.

The way the last golden hurrah of a perfect day exploded in a halo of warmth around his figure, the way all the greys and the blues seemed to bleed out of the world to leave nothing but warm tones behind, and the way his smile was the perfect expression of this mellow, unhurried mood…it struck me deeper and more violently than a thunderstorm in all its booming rage would have.

“Will you join me for dinner, Ori?” I asked gently, “I shall escort you back down.”

“It would be my honour.” He nodded, tearing out a page of his notebook and handing it over.

“It was an invitation; I do not demand payment.” I said seriously, for the sketch of the doe was so good, it might have been worth actual money. “Oh…” His nose crinkled at little at that.

“I wanted you to…have something beautiful. I have seen you work very hard.”

Of course, he was a scribe as well, he would consider the scribbling work, I thought and gave him a thankful smile. “You’re beauty enough for one day.” I shrugged.

He gasped, bringing his notebook up to his face as if to shield himself from my words.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Dori has warned me that girls do that sometimes.” He sounded utterly dejected. “I am not having you on. Has nobody ever told you that you’re handsome?” It was my turn to be wide-eyed with shock.

“And who is Dori?” I followed-up when he didn’t really reply to my question even though I thought I had seen his braids move like strings of pearls in a draft. The minutest of shakes of the head, a quiet admission of inadequacy that sunk ugly, ragged claws into my soft heart.

“He’s my brother. I have two of them. Dori…and Nori. They’re…” – “Older than you.” I completed. “Protective.” He supplied.

He was still holding his drawing out to me, and, after a moment, I took it gingerly and put it between the pages of my own writing supplies. I would hang it in my room and look at it daily.

Nowadays, there were but very few gifts for me; all the money went to my two younger sisters who were still nubile and would, if Mahal willed it so, be able to make a good match.

Busying my hands with making a fire, I asked him to tell me about his brothers.

“Oh, Nori is…agile. He’s…funny and brave and resourceful.” Ori started, his voice warm with affection and admiration. He sounded like a proper rogue to me, and as it turned out, he was, but he also deserved every single ounce of the deep-felt care Ori held for him.

“Dori is…fussy. He’s polite, he’s very caring, and he’s exceedingly proper.” Ori went on as I waved a hand for him not to stop. I enjoyed hearing about the life of other families than my own.

“So, is he the one who raised you to be this…warmly clad and gentle?” I asked, turning to place the foodstuffs I had brought up and stored in the cool lake water on spits to roast over the fire.

“Warm? Oh yes…I was a sickly pebble and he’s been worried ever since. I hope I have behaved in a way that would not make him disappointed in me.” Again, he worried his lip.

“Let’s see, you’ve startled a bird and an unsuspecting dwarrowdam.” I listed with a wicked gleam in my eyes; his face fell, and he looked properly guilty.

“Then, you’ve kept me company, and the best company I’ve ever had, it has been, on my grandmother’s grave, I swear.” I went on and that treacherous blush was back with a vengeance.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He then said in a low voice. “Great beauty is always startling.”

“I am hardly Thorin Oakenshield.” He laughed. Readers, you cannot imagine that sound just by reading my words. If flowers blossoming had melody, if the sun setting on the eternal sea had a song, if autumn leaves dancing on a gale had a tune, they would have sounded like nails on scree, like cats having their tails trampled, and like kettles going unheeded compared to Ori’s laughter.

“There’s beauty in the doe as much as in the wolf.” I replied gently.

“May I…can I ask where you’re from? I don’t seek to be rude, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you; your hair looks like those fabrics the Elves weave. It…seems so soft, so liquid, so smooth.” He blushed a darker shade yet.

This might well have been the first time that someone had asked me about my origins without making it sound like an accusation; there was honest fascination in his demeanour.

“My family and I have come from the Far East. I have travelled a lot, Ori, I have seen landscapes entirely made up of rock and sand, I have walked forests so stiflingly hot and moist it felt like being underwater, and now, I am here in the land of tall trees and taller mountains.”

I said, surprised by my own frankness.

“That sounds amazing.” He took the food I offered readily enough, and I told him about the people I’ve left behind to be stranded at the other end of the world.

“This is good, is that a recipe of your homeland?” He asked, looking down on the piece of meat I had seasoned with herbs I had grown myself in our small backyard.

“It actually is. I’m glad you like it. I had not planned to have company, otherwise I’d have brought something more palatable to the local tongue.” I apologised quickly.

“No, I like it. You should definitely trade some recipes with Dori…and Bombur…oh, and if any of your delicious herbs are medicinal, Óin.” He laughed again when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

“I make a good honeycake, if I can interest you in that? Maybe…” He fell back into silence.

…

A look at the sky told me that it was too late to go down in the inky darkness.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night with a dwarrow who had not lost a single word about a wife.

“Are you married, Mistress? Will that endanger your wedlock?” He asked shyly.

“No, I am not and I have no name to lose…It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like blurting out my disgrace, lest it give him strange ideas after all, especially as he would easily have been able to overpower me if he so chose.

“Neither am I. I don’t know about my name…Doesn’t look like I’m going to be married either. There’s not enough dwarrowdams as it is, and I think the royal line has a prerogative there.” There was no resentment in his tone; he seemed to accept this as a fact.

How could someone that sweet not be married, I wondered. He was courteous, he was cute, and he would have made the fortune and happiness of someone.

“Well, in that case, I think we can risk our reputation rather than our necks.” I grinned, rolling out a blanket I kept tied to my pack for emergencies and stretched out next to the fire on the moss.

“Erm, yes…Good night…” He mumbled, fidgeting around with his different layers of clothing. Apparently, he was deciding which one he needed least on his body to use it as a bedroll or blanket.

I eyed the proceedings with interest and a good deal of amusement.

“I can offer you my cloak to lie upon…the ground will grow very cold and wet soon.” He said in a low voice, not sure if I had already fallen asleep or not.

“Alright, I can offer you a spot under the blanket then?” I extended my own graciousness.

“With you?” No, with the red bird, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Yes, Ori the scribe, with me. I will not eat you, as you have witnessed, I have had dinner.” Not that he did not look good enough to devour, standing there with his cloak in his hands and his face all crunched up in embarrassment.

“Hmmm…I guess.” He muttered doubtfully, spreading out the cloak and sitting down on it carefully. Impatiently, I scooted over and spread my lousy blanket over the both of us with a flourish.

“Sleep!” I commanded as I turned around only to find him staring wide-eyed at the spot where the back of my head had been only a second ago. Now that he was presented with my face, only inches away from his, his eyes grew even rounder and bigger in wordless distress.

“Friend…Have you never lain with a woman? And I literally mean, lying next to one?” I laughed for there had been friends and cousins aplenty in my own life and the feeling of having another body so close to mine was not a new experience for me.

“Well, I fell down on the battlefield once, next to a foe…I’m pretty sure that was a Lady-Orc. She was dead. There was a…” He gestured, indicating a spear or a lance sticking out of his chest and brushing against my own with the back of his hand. Dear reader, he flinched back as if I was a tiny Durin’s bane wreathed in flames.

“A Lady-Orc, indeed…” I mused; no doubt, he could hear the smile I hid in my voice for his face crunched up in embarrassment.

“I am sorry.” He sighed, rolling his eyes, and thinking – there was not a shadow of a doubt about that much – of his brothers who would have mocked him mercilessly for his stammering.

“There’s no need to be sorry” I tried to reassure him, but I admit now that there were things that I did not tell him right away then. We had only just met, and he was blessedly unaware of my shameful past.

How could I have made him understand – without hurting his feelings – how much I enjoyed that air of purity about him that I had squandered myself on an undeserving fiend? As a daughter amongst others, I had been used to dwarrows coming to court or to seduce, their eyes ablaze with greed and their hands wandering.

He would not have comprehended how much the absence of that voracious hunger that had plagued my youth and had ended up destroying my promising future meant to me.

“Sleep.” I repeated, unable to put into words how miraculous and precious the things he seemed to be most ashamed of were to me.

“Good night, Mistress.” He breathed with a soft smile that was nowhere near the wolfish baring of fangs I was used to and so, it was easy to return it.

You who may or may not have stumbled upon this ludicrous account of the most important story in an otherwise unimportant life, you shall hear another confession I did not make at the time.

I was fiercely aware that – had I but leant forward a little – I might have pressed my lips upon his; I was young still at that time and, despite what had happened, parts of me, that should have withered and died in the aftermath of my botched engagement, were much alive.

He smelled like our dinner and warmth, and the gentle reticence of the curve of his smile was more inviting than any flashing grin I had ever seen before.

Yes, in that very moment, on this very first evening, I had already been conscious of the shrewd attraction this self-effacing dwarrow held for me…and it scared me half to death.

…

Part 3

#Fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ori the dwarf #Ori #OC #Fluff #Diary #1st person

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

slowly

Pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x (f) ace!reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: discussions of sex and related topics, maybe some angst? a lot more analogies than actual descriptions

Summary: a drive in theatre, a budding relationship, and a whole lot of mutual support

Notes: okay obviously this is a wildly personal topic - I fully understand that asexuality looks different for everyone. For full disclosure, in this story, the reader knows they are somewhere on the asexuality spectrum, but is not aromantic. They are also are on a path of self discovery and are open to learning about themselves. This IS NOT saying asexuals who are like this are growing "better" than those who are not interested. Asexuals who do know what they do and dont want are perfect and do not need to change or compromise as part of their personal growth.

There will be an optional part 2 where they have more conversations about intimacy and explore together what works for them, but again, this is not everyone's story, or the "right" way, it's just... one story.

That being said, I genuinely hope yall enjoy!

You stared at the bashful man in front of you openly, your hands stilling on the groceries you were halfway done unloading.

Even the slightest rustle of the cloth bags was painfully loud in the silence that stretched between you.

Jack had burst through your door, confident as always, but it was a thin layer over his anxious heart. With two long strides, he was pulling you into his arms, almost crushing you against his chest.

Arms winding around his middle, you held him just as tightly before you found your voice again.

“You’re back,” you said, simply amazed that he was a whole week early from the long mission. “When did you get back?”

You hadn’t realized he had picked you up until your feet were on solid ground again, and he was pulling away.

“Just a few hours ago, I had to make it back in time for opening night, right?” he grinned winningly.

You tried not to overthink, feeling a jolt of excitement that he remembered – tonight. The drive-in theatre in town was opening for the season and you had been more than excited. As one of your most consistent movie night friends, Jack had promised to take you, full of butterflies and subtext.

For as close as you’d gotten over the past few months, you weren’t sure what to make of his expression.

“If that’s okay? I should’ve double checked,” you hadn’t responded and it was apparently making him nervous.

“Yeah, Jack, that sounds great,” you reassured him, turning back to your groceries, equally nervous.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t expected him to remember because it had almost felt like an off-hand comment at the time, and you hadn’t wanted to get your hope up to much.

Something was welling in your stomach as you turned away from him fully, putting each item in its respective home in your kitchen. You liked him, of course you liked him. He was bold and kind and passionate, and more handsome than seemed reasonable for a single person. And… and when he was nearby, there was a feeling of safety, just out of reach, like water lapping at your feet at the beach.

It was more than tempting but, same as the ocean, there was also an uneasiness in the unknown. The same uneasiness was present in every relationship you’d ever had – because you had a secret.

Well, it was less of a secret and more… something you were figuring out that you hadn’t talked about much. Despite long late night talks and months of growing close and even slowly falling for each other, you hadn’t quite found the courage to talk to Jack about it yet. The more real the soft, sweet moments between you got, the more the unease filled your bones. You knew how he was with other women, and each time his hand lingered on your hip, your shoulder, your cheek, a quiet voice whispered that he deserved better.

Jack was staring at you, lost in your thoughts as you mechanically worked your way through the bags. His heart ached for you, and he wished more than anything that you trusted him with whatever you were holding back. But he was a determined man – he would do whatever he could to show you that no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere.

After awhile, Jack coaxed you back to your normal self, telling you as much of his mission as he could and helping you cook dinner. Moving around your kitchen was wonderfully peaceful, a little bubble of intimacy. Food was great for neutralizing anxious thoughts.

The feeling continued into his truck as you excitedly packed blankets and he fought the urge to kiss your adorable face when you found the snacks he’d picked up. Even before he left, in anticipation for tonight, he cleaned the front seat thoroughly, and made sure his radio was in good condition.

The movie went well too, but as much as he wanted to pull you into his arms, press you into his side, be the warmth against the cool night air, there was a hesitation that held him at bay.

Every time he’d reach for you, cautious and gentle, your skin would twitch, almost jumping away before you’d smile at him and lean into it. You seemed happy, but part of your mind was holding you back. As friends, you two were relatively physically affectionate, so he made a mental note to tread light and watch for more cues. Jack never wanted to impose himself on anyone but with you, even less.

So he waited. He had no doubt you’d talk to him when you were ready, and heavens knows that he had plenty of things he had kept buried. It was still nice, hearing you laugh next to him - just him – and seeing the light reflecting off the movie dance across your skin. Talking with you was always easy, even more so without friends or family around and it made Jack ache with eagerness.

As he pulled up to your home, he gently took your hand.

“Darlin, it was plum delightful to take you out tonight,” he said, cursing himself internally for how nervous he sounded. You looked his, eyes catching the streetlight like magic and your gentle squeeze gave him courage.

“I really would like to take you out again, on a proper date,” he couldn’t look away from your eyes, trying to read them through the murkiness. “I really like you,” Jack added, quieter, “but you don’t have to respond right now.”

You nodded, your eyes closing tight as though you were at war with yourself.

You think you like me, but I’m not the type of girl you want to date.

“You don’t have to… tell me, if you’re not ready, but,” he offered after a long moment, his free hand flexing on the steering wheel as he forced himself to examine the bushes on the side of the parking lot. “But I’m listening.”

You felt both hot and cold at the same time. All evening you could feel it coming, knew it was going to happen, knew it had to. He deserved this conversation, and honestly, if there was anyone who made you feel like you did, too, it was Jack.

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale -

“Okay,” - exhale.

Remembering that neither of you had work the next day helped. Slowly you let go of your hand and unbuckled your seatbelt, shifting to get comfortable again, the actions thick with significance. He returned it, unbuckling too, and killing the engine.

Jack was so respectful you could cry, his obvious anxiety under control enough not to jump to conclusions – to wait for you.

“I like you, too, Jack, but I don’t think we can ever date,” you forced the words out and his heart nearly shattered, confusion barely holding it together.

Eyebrows so drawn in they almost looked like a solid line, he waited, unable to stop a small shake of his head.

Why not? His entire being screamed. With each second that passed, more and more determination seeped into the cracks of his heart, sticking it together. If you liked him as he liked you, it seemed impossible there was anything between you that couldn’t be overcome.

You saw the question in his eyes and the explanation tumbled out.

“It’s just, I know you – I know the girls you go after and the type of relationships most men want. And,” you were sucking in air, the vulnerability raking through your lungs. “And I don’t know if I can ever give you that.”

He started to protest before his hand covered his mouth, irritated movements over his mustache, his jaw working. What he wanted was you. But he needed to let you keep talking. If he interrupted you now, he might never understand what you meant.

You watched his movements, desperation to give him the explanation he deserved growing in you.

“I’ve had people break up with me because I wont sleep with them,” you shoved the words into the space, the most honest you’d maybe ever been.

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that. Your voice was trembling and so quiet only your moving lips confirmed the words as you continued.

“For me, it’s not something I need, or am particularly comfortable with. You,” you swallowed hard, unable to look at the man beside you. “You deserve someone you can be with, however you want.”

You took another deep breath, feeling light and surprisingly at peace with your honesty. Even the impending rejection felt less scary, now that you had said it all out loud. The trembles settled as you concluded, “I’m still figuring myself out and I just cant guarantee I’ll ever give you what you deserve.”

Of all the conversations with all the others before this, this moment felt the most freeing. It was wild to have such an intimate conversation before you even kissed, but… the foundation of trust that Jack had given you had not been lost on you. You found yourself smiling, looking at him, finally.

His expression had loosened, processing and connecting the dots, his deep eyes unfocused before they slid closed.

Now it was your turn to wait, to be patient, and listen.

Part of him wanted to yell that he wasn’t like the others, that he didn’t care and even that he would wait and work until you were ready. But that wasn’t right, and he knew it.

Inside him, deep, deep down, there was a small light. A candle of flame underneath a glacier: a touch of hope slowly warming its way through layers and layers and centuries of expectations, fear, confusion, and chaos. It was going strong, it just need more time.

“Darlin,” he looked at you, finally, meeting your eyes and feeling for the first time that they were a clear window into your soul. “You are… everything, to me. So… so let’s just take some time to process this. Would that be okay, sweetheart?”

That was the first time anyone had ever responded that way. It was the scariest thing, but it was perfect. You were overwhelmed with the rawness and a glance at the radio told you it was 2 am. Not a time to be making life altering decisions, anyway. Nodding, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. The movement was intimate and confident – something that shouldn’t have been possible, but it was.

Jack’s large hand grasped at your neck and jaw, pulling you into him, pressing his forehead on yours. The hairs of his mustache just ticked your lip, but he made no move, respecting one final boundary for the night.

With a squeeze, he let you go, watching with longing eyes as you hopped out of his truck and ran to your front door. The smile you gave him before you slipped inside was the seal, engraving tonight into his memories forever.

And he drove home, his thoughts louder than the wind and the crickets and his pounding heart.

Jack invited you over a few days later, a Sunday afternoon. It would be the first time you’d talked, and you were surprisingly calm. For some reason, you felt like you’d be closer to him no matter what happened.

He heard your car on the long gravel driveway and greeted you with an all-encompassing hug. You held each other, like lifelines, for long moments before he pulled you inside.

“My mama sent cookies,” he said, motioning for you to sit at the tall table he had as he set down the plate. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing their Sunday lunches and her beloved baking well. He remained standing across from you, aware of the awkwardness, but eager to get his words right.

“This is all new to me,” he said, wishing suddenly that he’d made tea so his throat wouldn’t feel so dry. “If you really don’t wanna be with me, that’s your choice,” he said, knowing it was right and hating the option, “but I really – you’re just so – I can’t let you go,” his thoughts were jumbling together on his tongue.

It was grounding, when your hands found his, reaching across the table as you sat forward on your stool.

“What if we just took it slow?” you said, and his heart stopped.

“Please,” he managed, and your own chest felt like it would burst. “Would it be alright, darlin?” Jack’s hands held yours, his expression eager.

“Could – could we figure out what works for us? Figure this all out together?” You were close to crying, you wanted that so bad.

“I can’t promise I’ll change or… or what direction I’ll grow,” you said, needing to say it again, needing to be sure.

“I can’t, either, darlin,” he said, and you realized he was right and you would support each other, no matter what.

“But all I need is you. Whatever and however much you’ll give me. That’s more than enough.”

He didn’t say for now.

And you believed him.

Since he was still standing, it made it easy for you to tug him around the table, and you leaned into his chest. It felt safe, safer than you had ever thought was possible for you.

“Okay,” you told the flannel he was wearing, “Let’s figure it out together.” And even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smiling, too.

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @0celestialbitch0 @scribbledghost

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #ace!reader #ace reader #maybe i don't know people

60 notes · View notes

f00pyf00p · 3 years

Text

Between The Pages

Rating: General Relationships: Romantic Analogical Warnings: Class Differences, Bullying, Long-Distance Relationship Word count: 11098 Summary: The day he was born, with the very first flicker of life, a notebook nearly fell on Logan’s head. It would have smacked him full in the face had their Doctor and neighbor not been waiting for it, one hand balancing the baby and the other situated right above the new human’s nose, waiting. Other Notes: Analogical Week Day 4: AU @analogicalweek

Read on AO3

The day he was born, with the very first flicker of life, a notebook nearly fell on Logan’s head. It would have smacked him full in the face had their Doctor and neighbor not been waiting for it, one hand balancing the baby and the other situated right above the new human’s nose, waiting.

The notebook was spiral, as all notebooks were. It was white and the two cardboard covers held not a single page between them.

“His soulmate isn't born yet, then,” said their neighbor/doctor, Ryan Becker. She placed the lifeless notebook off to the side and shifted the baby so she was holding him with both hands. “Now, I’m just going to go and clean him up a little. Phil, can you help your wife while I’m gone?”

Logan’s father, Phillip Berry, nodded immediately. He grabbed some of the towels they had set up beforehand and the last thing Ryan saw before heading out of the room was the beginnings of a smile on the new mother’s face.

It took a long time for the family to get fully situated, but once they had, Ryan left their home with an exhausted wave and made her way back across the street where her soulmate waited. The kitchen and living room lights were off when she entered; he was probably upstairs with that old computer he had found, attempting to make the damned thing turn on when they both knew that the thing had been dead long before he picked it up.

Whatever. He could play with it all he wanted- right now, all Ryan could think of was a long hot shower.

On her way to the bathroom, she passed the one shelf in her home, where two spiral notebooks sat. They had not been touched in a very long time but Ryan wouldn’t have gotten rid of them even if she could.

Slowly, she reached out and pulled the yellow one off the shelf.

When she had been born, her notebook had also fallen white and empty. It had remained that way until (according to her parents) a year later on August 14th when it had suddenly filled with pages and the cover had turned a stunning bright yellow.

According to Marcus’s parents, his notebook had fallen a deep dark red, pages already filled. After all, she had already existed.

Ryan examined her notebook for a second longer before putting it back and heading towards her bathroom.

The new Casey boy came out of his mother into the doctor’s hand squirming and already screaming like his life depended on it. Doctor James Miller had to struggle to keep the baby situated as he held his hand above its little head, waiting.

A dark blue book full of pages landed right into his palm. Thomas Casey, the father of the boy, smiled at the sight of it.

“Just born and already has his soulmate! Look at that!”

Doctor Miller gave the man one of his practiced smiles and held the notebook out to him. Instantly, the dad began flipping through the pages, and James just managed to not roll his eyes before he turned away to properly clean the new baby.

There was no point in looking at the notebook. Even if there had been something in it, only two people could see what was in it: the baby he was holding and the baby’s soulmate.

Whatever. James was used to parents excitedly looking through their children’s notebooks. At this point, he shouldn’t have been surprised by it.

He came back with the baby nicely bundled in green blankets and gave another practiced smile as he passed the boy off to his mother. She smiled down at him and glanced back over at her husband.

“Have you chosen a name?” James asked kindly.

“Virgil,” Bella replied. She ran a hand over his little face. “Virgil Casey.”

James made a mental note for the birth certificate.

Miles and miles away, next to napping a month and half old baby boy, a dead white notebook with no pages in between began to fill. Plum purple bloomed across the cardboard cover and clean white pages shot into existence until it was full enough to use but not so heavy that a toddler couldn’t carry it. Logan Berry rolled over and one tiny hand landed flat on the now purple cover.

He carried on sleeping.

“HI! It iS me.”

Logan’s slightly shaking hand held his favorite pencil- a blue one covered in book titles. Logan had chosen it out of his love of books and even though couldn’t able to read very many yet, those he could get through he barely ever put down. Once he got good enough, Logan planned to read every book title on the pencil, even the ones his mom said were “really long.”

“HelO!” The reply came in red crayon and was nearly twice as large but much neater than Logan’s writing. Logan beamed at the very sight of it.

“WhaT is you dOing.” The red came again, slightly smaller this time. Logan traced the large “O” with his fingers before re-scooping up his pencil and pressing it to the page.

He paused.

“Re,” he sounded out, writing the letters as he did so. “Sss-” He scribbled an s after it. “Ess. Resess.” He smiled at himself for sounding out the words properly and waited for his notebook friend’s response.

“YOu hav resess in the morning?”

Logan blinked. “It iS not mor-” Logan paused and double-checked how his notebook partner had spelled it. “-ning. It iS going to be lanch tim.”

“NO. It is morning.”

Logan really wasn’t quite what to do. His partner was obviously wrong; at the moment, Logan sat outside in the grass outside next to a plastic play structure his schoolmates were screaming across. The sun beat down on them at a chilly 60°F, which he was currently combating with a sweatshirt and long pants. They had already gone over math (which Logan had enjoyed) and geography (which he had enjoyed less). After lunch, they would be able to do his favorite part of the day (reading!), they would do some writing, and then it would be time to go home.

“Mrs. Williams!” Logan pushed from the grass and took off for a run towards his kindergarten teacher. The notebook swung from his arms as he did so and Mrs. Williams turned to him with a sort of half-smile on her face.

“Yes, Logan?”

“Mrs. Williams, my notebook buddy is saying it's morning a lot, but it's not morning. Why is he saying that?”

Mrs. Williams licked her lips and glanced around the playground. “Follow me, sweetie, okay?”

Logan nodded eagerly. He opened his book to write, “1 min” and then trotted after Mrs. Williams. She had grabbed two random slightly deflated balls, one large rubber and supposedly bouncy, and the other a small green tennis ball.

“Okay, Logan. You like space, right?”

Logan nodded eagerly.

“The earth is round, okay.” At Logan’s nod, she held up the larger ball. “Can you pretend this is the earth for me?”

Logan stared at it for a second and then nodded again.

“Okay, that big ball is the earth. And this ball-” she held up the green one- “is the sun. When it's nighttime and you go to sleep, where is the sun?”

“It’s gone,” Logan informed her. “We don’t see it.”

“That's right! Good job! And when it's daytime where is the sun?”

Logan pointed at the sky. “There.”

Mrs. Williams nodded. “Can you hold the sun for me?” She passed him the green ball and positioned his hand up so it was next to the side of the earth. “Now I’m going to put my finger here.” She placed it on a random spot of the ball. “And you’re going to tell me if my finger is daytime or nighttime.”

Slowly, Mrs. Williams began to spin the ball. She stopped with her finger on the opposite side of the sun. “Day or night Logan?”

“I…”

“Can I see the sun?”

“No!” Logan grinned. “It’s nighttime!”

“Well done! You little genius! Now, if I keep spinning the earth…” Mrs. Williams spun it around so her finger faced the sun. “Daytime or nighttime?”

“Day!”

“Yes!” But what if I move my finger?” Mrs. Williams left the ball still and picked her finger up so it was on the back of the ball, away from the sun. “Am I nighttime or daytime?”

“Nighttime.”

“Good job, Logan. Now, what if…” Mrs. Williams shifted so that her thumb pressed into the area toward the sun and her other hand faced away. “What now?”

“Ummm… that one-” Logan reached out to touch her thumb- “is in the daytime and the other is in the nighttime.”

“Right. Now let’s give my fingers names. Let’s say my thumb’s name is Logan.”

“That’s my name.”

“You’re right it is. Let’s say my other finger’s name is notebook buddy.”

A lightbulb went off in Logan’s head. “He’s in a different sun area!”

Mrs. Williams looked very pleased. “That’s right Logan. So it's lunchtime for you, but morning for him.”

Logan grinned before taking off at a run back for his grassy spot to explain everything to his soulmate.

“I want to SAY my nam.”

Virgil glanced down at his blue notebook and shook his head at his soulmate. After a click glance to make sure his teacher wasn’t looking (he was supposed to be doing his math practice) he wrote back: “It WOnt wORK.”

“But I want it to.”

“It WOn’t.”

“I’m gonna try.”

Despite his adamant belief that it would fail, Virgil still bent over his paper excitedly. Maybe…

“--------”

Nope.

“See. Nams dON’T wORk.”

“Virgil!” Virgil jumped and shoved his notebook away. “How’s your math going, kiddo?”

Mr. Ravin stood in front of him. He glanced over at the open notebook and the blank math sheet and pursed his lips.

“You need to learn math right now, okay Virgil? You can write your soulmate during playtime.”

Virgil crossed his arms over his chest. “But I want to now! He’ll go away during playtime!”

“Why not?”

“He’s in a different sun area!”

Mr. Ravin blinked. He glanced over at the notebook, back at Virgil, and at the notebook again, trying to figure out exactly what Virgil was telling him.

Suddenly, his expression brightened.

“He’s in a different time zone?”

Virgil didn’t really know what a time zone was but he nodded anyway.

“Okay. I’ll give you five minutes with your soulmate.” Mr. Ravin held up his hand and Virgil mirrored the motion. “But then you have to do the math, okay?”

“Okay!”

Virgil grasped his note with two little hands and pulled it back to him. He re-grabbed the pencil he had been using and looked over what his soulmate had written while Mr. Ravin held his attention.

“I am --- yeers. I like bookS. I live in -------.”

“It is not showing,” Virgil wrote. “i like books two.”

His soulmate went quiet.

It was annoying, Virgil thought to himself. Sometimes, it got difficult to talk about his soulmate when he wasn’t able to give his soulmate a name. And his soulmate was his best friend! He needed to be able to talk to his best friend.

“We could do fak nams,” Virgil wrote. “That waay, we hav nams but not reel nams.”

“Like sooperheros!” The exclamation mark brought a smile onto Virgil’s face and he nearly clapped his hands excitedly but he didn’t want to bring attention to himself. “What is yor nam?”

Virgil paused before putting his pencil to the paper. His fake name had to be perfect. It was going to be what his best friend called him forever and forever meant a really really long time. It needed to be about him and it needed to make sense.

“Purple,” Virgil wrote. “I like purple. My nam is Purple.”

“OK.” His partners' smaller and nearly illegible handwriting appeared beneath his own. “My nam is Logic. A sooperhero I like in my book is Logic so I’m going to be Logic to.”

“Okay Lo-” Virgil doubled-check how it was spelled. “-gic. Want tO play tic-tac-tOE?”

Virgil had only just managed to write the sentences when Mr. Ravin walked back over and leaned over him. “Alright, Virgil,” he said kindly. “Time for math now.”

“Five more minutes?” Virgil glanced down at the paper, where his Logic had drawn a tic-tac-toe board and placed a circle in the middle of it. He held his notebook out for Mr. Ravin to see. “Look, we just want to finish the game!”

Mr. Ravin gently pushed the notebook back onto Virgil’s kindergartner-sized desk. “I can’t see what’s on the pages, kiddo,” he said gently. “Only you and your soulmate can.”

“Logic,” Virgil interrupted.

Mr. Ravin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“His name is Logic.”

“We’re learning about frogs in my school.” Virgil’s legs swung back and forth underneath him, moving the swing he sat on ever so slightly, as he read what Logic had just sent to him in handwriting that practically grew messier every day. “We’ve been put into a lot of groups and now we have to find facts about a kind of frog.”

“Cool.” Virgil paused before writing; “What’s your frog?”

“I got a really boring one. I already knew everything about it so I didn’t have to do any research at all.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and a smile splayed on his 8-year-old face. Only Logic would be upset by a lack of work in his class. And he added cheerfully to himself, only Logic would have already known enough about a frog to not have to do any homework.

“What was it?”

“It’s a glass frog. They’re green.”

“Aren’t all frogs green?” Stupid question.

“No, a lot of frogs are all different colors. Poison dart frogs, for example, are really colorful.”

The smile grew. Logic was the only person Virgil knew to not care how dumb or how often somebody asked a question. He was always there, always with an answer, always ready to help.

“What frog did you want to do?”

Logic handwriting was a lot faster than normal: still legible but it was loopier and the letters connected more.

“The Macaya Breast-spot Frog! They’re endangered, and orange and they’re so much cooler than the stupid glass frog.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know about them! Obviously!”

Virgil flipped off the swing, bored of the repeated motion, and sat criss-cross underneath it, letting his notebook fall onto his lap. His pencil hit it the moment he was situated.

“At my school,” he wrote in large gray letters, “we’re going over frogs too, but they’re giving everyone a tadpole to look after.”

“That’s so cool! What kind of frog!?”

Ummm…

“Black frog?”

“That’s not a kind of frog.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it is” Logic crossed out what he had written in one smooth motion. “No it is You know it's not a real frog.”

Virgil grinned. “Yeah.”

“You are the worst best friend I have.”

Virgil blinked. “But I’m your only best friend.” He didn’t add the “right?” that hastened his breath and made his hands tremble ever so slightly.

“Obviously.”

The trembling vanished, replaced with the smile for before. “You’re being meannnnnnn.”

“The extra “nnns” are dumb.”

“You’re dumb.”

“I am not!”

“Your mum.”

“You” Logic crossed out his word again. “You You’re the one being mean. Meanie.”

Virgil drew a smiley face underneath his sentence. His own grin grew when in response, Logic crossed it out and drew a sad face next to it.

He was about to say something- about what, Virgil wasn’t quite sure- when a loud female voice broke through the little spell he had with Logic.

“Recess is over,” he wrote glumly. “I’ll write you later.”

“Oh.” Even in writing, the word sounded sad. “I forgot you were still in school.”

“Yeah.”

“Bye Purple.”

“Bye L.”

Logan was supposed to be asleep. His parents had put him to bed at 8:00, and his alarm clock currently read 11:12, but it wasn’t his fault this book was so interesting! Stopping now would be a sin against… Logan paused. Were there any book gods? He’d have to look it up…

The yawn that came out of him practically shook his whole body and at the end of it, Logan sternly told himself that he had about 100 more pages to go, and he had to hold out that long. Last time, he had fallen asleep on the book.

That had been annoying.

A bang in the kitchen had Logan’s head flying up. Probably just his mom looking for water, or his dad getting a late-night snack. He went to turn back to his book when his eyes snagged on the open notebook on his bedroom floor.

And more importantly, at the letters appearing across it.

Suddenly very much awake, Logan carefully bookmarked his page, pushed from his covers, and scooped the book up to get a look at whatever Purple was sending him.

“My parents are making me go to sleep at 7:30 but I’m not tireddddd. I want to do something! So I decided to draw you a picture because you’re asleep so I can let you see in the morning when it’s good and not bad.”

What followed were several drawings, all of which had been scribbled out with such ferocity it was a wonder Logan’s page hadn’t been ripped as well. Either way, there was nothing left of what remained under the scribble.

There was a loss that came with that.

“They were all terrible, you wouldn’t have liked them,” Purple had written. “I’ve decided I’m not leaving a drawing for you. Goodnight.”

Then, underneath that.

“I can’t fall asleep.”

And under that-

“We’re never going to find each other.”

Logan’s breath hitched.

“We can’t tell each other anything! Look! My name is --------. I am ---- years old. I live in --------. I am he/him. Well, the last one worked but you know what I mean! We could pass each other and we’d never know it! I’ll never see you. I’ll never play games with you. I want to play Percy Jackson with you.”

A strong yearning entered Logan’s heart and he traced the letters on the page.

“I could be Percy. You can be like, a male version of Annabeth. And then we fight monsters!”

Logan’s fingers twitched.

“But no! Because you live super far away and I’ll never get to see you ever. I can’t even draw my face for you!”

What followed was a black square, different from the scribbles from earlier. It was too precise, too dark to have been done by Purple.

“How will I ever-” Logan had finally caught up to where Purple was now- “find you?”

He paused for a moment. There had to be a way, some kind of signal, or something they could wear-

Wait.

“What if-” In the middle of his writing a sentence, a much shorter one appeared underneath it.

“You’re here!?”

Logan paused in his sentence to write a tiny “yes” before jumping back up to finish his old one.

“What if you drew a sign for us to put on our clothes? That way we can see each other wearing it and know it's us?”

“What?”

“Just draw a pin for us to wear.”

There was a pause, probably as Purple thought it over, then, in big neat letters, “Why are you so much smarter than me?”

“You’re really smart,” Logan protested.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Yes and.”

“You can’t “and” me.”

That sparked a quiet shining in Logan’s eyes. “Yes, and I think you should draw the symbols.”

“You’re not clever.” There was a short pause. “I can’t draw them while you watch. It makes me nervous.”

Logan understood that. He didn’t like people reading over his shoulder. It was probably the same thing.

“Okay.” He wrote. “I’ll go back to my book.”

“What time is it there?”

The minute changed as Logan looked. “11:31.”

“GO.” The word filled a third of what was left on the page. “TO. SLEEP.”

“It’s only like 100 pages.”

“SLEEP!”

“Fine!” Logan frowned at the page. “You need to sleep too then.”

“It’s only 8:31 here.”

His frown deepened.

“Good night, Logic.”

A heavy heavy sigh came out of Logan. He glanced towards his bookmarked book and silently promised that it would be finished before lunch tomorrow.

“Good night, Purple.” His pencil hovered over the page. “I’ll see our symbols in the morning.”

The notebook cover shut and Logan slid back into his bed. He had only closed his eyes for 30 seconds before the eight-year-old was fully asleep.

The next morning, Logan awoke and dashed to his notebook. He opened it, heart fluttering in his throat, and smiled at the symbols Purple had chosen for them.

A purple stormcloud and a little white brain with black glasses. The stormcloud was marked “PURPLE” in shiny and the brain was marked “LOGIC.”

Logan immediately went to find a piece of paper, a window, and a safety pin so he could copy Purple’s work line for line and display it on his chest.

Logan had been wearing a piece of paper pinned to his shirt for four years. The paper had switched out; the first one he had dutifully copied back when he was only in 3rd grade had taken less than a month to fall apart. However, the design of it remained the same. Every time a new piece of paper tore, got wet, streaked, whatever, Logan flipped back to the page Purple had first drawn his symbol, pressed it up against a window, and copied it line for line again.

Despite the symbol, they still hadn’t found each other.

“My mom’s being a bitch.” Purple’s handwriting was still larger than Logan’s own, but smooth and precise. He was the kind of person you would have write everything down during group projects so it looked pretty when you presented. “I’m trying to go to see a movie with Puppy but noooooo, I have a C in fucking math so she grounded me.”

Logan smiled at the letters, even as his heart ached. Purple had written to him about Puppy countless times before; he had been described as a bubbly older brother figure, thus, why he had been given that nickname. Someone who loved gardening and still slept with a nightlight. The two of them were close, though Purple promised Logan was still his best friend.

Logan wished more than anything to be able to go see movies with Purple. Touching him, even seeing him would be a blessing.

He didn’t know it was possible to miss someone you had never truly met as much as he missed Purple.

“I could help you with math,” he wrote back. His handwriting was legible- and that was about the best thing he could say about it. “I study it in my free time so I’m sure I know something about what you’re going over.”

“You’re such a nerd,” came the fond reply. There was a beat of silence, which Logan used to check the clock sitting upon his desk.

3:32 pm. That meant it was around 12:32 where Purple was. They still had plenty of time before he would be back in class.

“I could use your help with math though.” Purple’s letters came fluidly after his last sentence. “Not right now. This is school break time.” Logan smiled wryly at that. “Are you busy at 4:00? Oh um, 7:00 for you.”

Technically no. His school had gotten a donation of recorders and he was supposed to be practicing it every night and Logan had already put it off four nights in a row.

But he could do that later.

“I’m free,” Logan replied. “We can do it then.”

“Great. I don’t understand these word problems we’re supposed to be doing and Puppy is really excited about this Rom-Com.” There was a pause. “I am not, but I’m not going to disappoint Puppy by not being allowed to go.”

“I don’t think I quite get Rom-Coms,” Logan wrote. He paused to shake his hand and then instantly put the pencil back to paper. “They’re incredibly unrealistic, remarkably cringy, and oftentimes the main pairing doesn’t even make sense together.”

“Lol.”

Logan wondered for a brief moment what exactly Purple’s laugh sounded like. At the moment, he imagined it was deep, with a sort of snarky edge to it, but he had imagined it all sorts of different ways throughout the years. None of them had ever sounded quite right.

“I don’t like them much either. Straight propaganda.”

He couldn’t help but snort at that. Both he and Purple had learned they were gay a little while back when he had brought up how often the pair of them discuss hot male celebrities.

“I’m sure that’s normal,” Purple had written. “Right?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

And then later.

“I asked my Dad. It’s not normal.”

“Oh.” Logan hadn’t been sure how to respond to that. His blood had just been thrumming with the very idea of trusting anyone about something like that. “So… does that mean we’re gay?”

“Do you like girls? Like, in that way”

“No.”

“Then yea, probably.”

Logan still hadn’t told anyone about his and Purple’s discovery. He couldn’t imagine anyone taking it well in his town. It still shocked him sometimes that in Purple’s neighborhood, you could be out without facing rather disastrous consequences.

“I’m sure Rom-Coms aren’t trying to turn you straight.”

“That’s what they want you to think. Don’t fall for it Logic. Their smiles are nothing but lies.”

Logan snorted quietly, a sound he only ever made when talking- well, writing technically- with his soulmate. “If they’re going to try and brainwash me like that, they might consider actually making a good movie.”

“Damn, L. Out here bringing the heat.”

His eyebrows knit together. “I don’t think you can feel warmth through the notebook.”

“No… Logic, it’s not literal. It’s a saying.”

“Oh.” Heat burned in his cheeks. “Of course.” He licked his lips. “And, let’s just say, hypothetically, if someone still didn’t understand what you were trying to say-”

Purple’s answer appeared beneath him before he had fully finished. “You’re doing a good job insulting boring Rom-Coms.”

“Yes. Of course. Naturally.” Logan brushed a hand through his hair. “They aren’t interesting.”

Purple made a little checkmark next to his statement.

“Oh!” Purple’s writing came hastily under Logan’s last sentence. “I almost forgot to tell you! I read that book you like.”

“Really? Did you like it?”

“Why on earth didn’t you tell me how sad it was!?”

“Because you said you would kill me if I spoiled anything?”

“Not an excuse!”

Logan smiled at the declaration. Between Shades of Grey had been such a good historical fiction book that he had just had to share it with someone- and since all his at-home friends didn’t like historical fiction as much as he did, Purple had been an obvious choice.

“I didn’t know Stalin had camps!”

“Yeah.” Logan’s stomach twisted at the thought. “It’s horrible.”

“I wish humanity didn’t suck so much. Sometimes, I think a nuclear war would be good just to get rid of everyone here.”

Logan shook his head. “I wouldn’t want it to get rid of you.”

Purple didn’t reply for a good minute. When he finally did answer, the letters made Logan’s heart flutter rather pathetically.

“I suppose I wouldn’t want you to get hurt either.” __

Virgil couldn’t hide the smile off his face, the skipping in his heart, nor the glow coming off of him in unnatural and rare waves. All of his joy came from the Christmas present his parents had just given him; a necklace, a bracelet, a pin, and a ring, all bearing the exact same mark- namely a purple stormcloud that he had first drawn back in 3rd grade.

It was 9 am in California, which meant it would be noon wherever Logic was living, but Logic had told him that family obligations would keep him from being around his notebook for longer than a few minutes at a time today.

Right now though, that served in Virgil’s favor. He hated it when people watched him draw- even when it was someone he trusted as much as Logic.

“Hey, Logic.” Virgil started a new page, leaving about a third empty under the last one. For a moment, he wondered whether that was the right thing to do- but it's not like they would ever run out of pages. The notebook just kept growing, despite not increasing in weight. “I got big news!”

He glanced over at the last thing Logic had written- Make sure you sleep well too, Purple- and his reply- Yeah yeah yeah. Good night, Logic!”

He wondered how long it would be until he could say good night to his soulmate in person.

“I know you told me that you wouldn’t be able to get to the notebook today.” Virgil paused and bit his lip. “I hope I’m not bothering you by writing now but-” He crossed the word out in one elegant line, followed by repeated scribbling until not even the essence of the letter was visible. “Sorry if I am.”

Logic probably wouldn’t be upset. Probably.

Virgil pushed down the wave of panic that told him Logic would see that he had written and never open the notebook again. Maybe he shouldn’t-

No. Things would be fine. He was being stupid.

“My parents got me jewelry with my stormcloud on it!” Virgil's initial happiness came rushing back, though slightly dulled. “I’ve got a bracelet, a pin, a necklace, a ring- here, I’ll show you.”

Virgil brought his pencil to the page. He studied the bracelet given to him- the smooth shining silver metal and the small but noticeable purple cloud that hung from it, followed by a jagged white lightning bolt.

Beside it, he drew the necklace, the small rings that made up a delicate metal chain, and the large pendant that hung from the bottom, identical to the one on his bracelet.

Then the pin, and finally the ring, which for some reason took him a lot longer than the other ones. At the end of it all, Virgil smiled at his designs and went for the lines underneath them.

“Now it’ll be even easier to find me. We won’t have to worry about paper ripping and losing it for a day or whatever else.”

He wanted to write the words “We’ll find each other” but found no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite make his pencil hit the page. It was a wish and a promise Virgil repeated to himself, one he wanted more than anything in the world, one he would do almost anything for, but one he couldn’t quite convince himself was true.

They both lived in America. That much was true. But according to time zones, Logic lived on the other side of the whole country. Even if Virgil traveled over there, he wouldn’t know which state, let alone which city-

Breath came too fast. He placed the notebook off to the side and suddenly the gifts that had been a solidifier of their symbols and ability to find each other were nothing more than a taunt.

Logic was out of his reach. Forever.

Virgil snatched the notebook up- to do what he wasn’t sure- and found a tiny barely readable letter had appeared under his note. He blinked at it.

Wasn’t Logic supposed to be busy today?

“Those look great!” Logic’s words eased some of the darkness numbing Virgil’s mind. He reached out with a single shaking hand and traced the letters. “You’re an amazing artist, Purple.”

Virgil swallowed.

“Thanks.”

They had to flip the page to keep communicating.

“Those will make it much easier to find you,” Logic wrote. Each letter cleared more of his panic and Virgil managed a tiny smile. “I can’t do the same though.”

Virgil blinked and all of that cleared panic came back full force.

Before he could properly hold his pencil, Logic had continued.

“I would like to, but I don’t think we have enough money to spare on one of those. I’ll keep wearing the paper, of course.” Logic’s letters paused but before Virgil had managed to clear his head long enough to even manage a sentence, it continued. “Yours look beautiful.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-

“I didn’t mean for you to think you had to get any.” It was the messiest Virgil’s handwriting had been in a very long time. “I’ll spot you with the paper, I just thought-” What had he been thinking? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t really remember anything but the fact that he had somehow managed to make Logic upset-

“Purple.” Logic’s letters were crisper than normal: firm. “I think the idea of wearing jewelry is amazing. If it makes one of us easier to spot then we’re closer to being together. I can’t afford them, but that’s okay. Okay?”

Virgil took a breath.

“Okay.”

Logic was right. Like normal. Logic would have an easier time looking for a guy wearing a bunch of stormclouds rather than one white one drawn on his chest.

And he…

“I promise to be on the lookout for a piece of paper,” Virgil wrote. “You don’t need all the jewelry.”

It was to make things easier. But it wasn’t truly necessary.

Right?

Right.

“I’ve got to go. Our neighbor ------- is-” The writing paused. “I forgot other people’s names don’t work. Anyway, I have to go.”

“Okay.” Virgil took a long breath. “I’ll write to you soon.”

“Bye Purple. Oh, and don’t worry about writing to me when I say I won’t be able to come. I enjoy reading everything you say after.”

Virgil's heart missed a beat and that warm smile from before returned.

Logan had spent the entirety of Valentine’s day avoiding people handing out presents, chocolates, teddy bears, and whatever other atrocity they wanted to give their beloved. Not because he thought the holiday was stupid- although, he did actively think that- but because of the slight churning in his gut whenever he spotted a happy couple.

Along with that question. That stupid, horrible question that he had been asking himself for almost a year now.

His hand tightened around his notebook.

Would it hurt more to confess and be rejected, or confess and still be unable to see him?

Until he figured that out, Logan really didn’t think there was any point in confessing.

He turned down the hallway his class was in, ducked a ball of paper thrown at his head, and strode into the room. After double-checking that his desk and chair hadn’t been messed with, Logan took his seat, pulled out a binder held together with scotch tape and a lot of luck, and placed it on the creaky cracked desk in front of him.

Right. He had five minutes.

Logan did what he always did with extra time; he cracked open his purple notebook and glanced over the pages they had written in last.

His lips curved upwards.

Purple had added a few drawings since they last talked. Random sketches of tree leaves, a new ring he had been excited to buy, Noam and Dara from the heartbreaking series Feverwake Logan had made him read, and Gerald Way, one of Purple’s favorite artists.

Logan made little compliments underneath each of them- “Great job shading the leaf, it looks so real, the ring is gorgeous, etc- and was about to add something about scheduling a time to talk during the afternoon/night, when the book was snatched out of his hands.

Logan grimaced. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Jason that stood in front of him, a cocky grin on his face and Logan’s purple notebook open in his palms.

“Give it back.”

Jason’s stupid grin widened. Logan just rolled his eyes.

“We both know I could have it in a second. Just hand it over.”

“What were you writing?” Jason’s voice was sing-songy, taunting. He flipped through the pages- pages he could see nothing but lines on- before snapping the notebook closed and holding it above his head.

With a loud sigh, Logan snapped his fingers twice. It was a bit odd, the way he did so. Most people used their index finger or middle. He used his pinky.

By the time his fingers had hit his palm a second time, the notebook had completely dislodged itself from Jason’s hand and landed squarely into Logan’s outstretched left one.

Without saying anything to the idiot in front of him, Logan turned back to his notebook, opened it up to the right page, and scribbled down a time they could meet. It was during his shift at the grocery store, but late enough that not many people would be in so he could easily write with Purple.

“I need to talk to you,” Jason interrupted.

“No, I’m not doing your homework for you.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Okay, what about-”

“I’m not writing an essay for you either.”

There was a short silence, which Logan used to turn back to his notebook and add that Purple should feel no obligation to hang out especially if he…

Logan swallowed.

… had other Valentine’s Day plans.

“If you do it, I could hook you up with my friend Erica. She’s good-looking. Breasts are a bit small, but-”

It took all of his efforts not to groan aloud.

“Go away, Jason. And don’t talk about your friends like that.”

“Ah, she’s a girl. She doesn’t mind.”

“Have you asked her?”

Logan glanced up to see Jason rolling his eyes. He glanced towards the door.

Where the hell was Mr. Myers?

“Look man, I’m just struggling with this one essay. I just need you to-”

“I told you no, Jason.”

Jason’s face twisted into a scowl. “Stop being such a damn teacher’s pet. It’s one damn essay.”

“No.”

Logan wondered if it were too early for Purple to be up. It was 9:11 here, meaning it would only be 6:11 there…

Yeah. It was much too early. Purple woke up at 7:20 to get to school at 7:30. He had at least an hour before he would see this.

“But-”

“Jason.” Mr. Myers' voice boomed through the classroom and Logan snapped his soulmate’s notebook shut and pushed himself up straight. “Take your seat.”

Purple got back to him at lunchtime. Logan sat out in the deteriorating and slightly musty hallway, bread, and cheese sandwich sitting on a cardboard platter beside him and his notebook resting on his knees. It just so happened that his lunchtime (12:10-12:30) was at the beginning of Purple’s study hall (9:00-9:40), so it had become normal for the pair of them to talk until Logan had to head back to class.

They basically confirmed they would have that conversation later, which made Logan feel better for more reasons than one, before Purple asked Logan about his day, giving Logan a very easy outlet to bitch about the whole fiasco with Jason.

“Again!?” Purple handwriting was larger and darker than normal. “I’m going to kill him!”

“It’s really no trouble.” Honestly, Logan didn’t mind it occurring, especially since it gave him moments like this when Purple would get all angry on his behalf. There weren’t many people who did that. “Gollum-” the name they had given Jason so they could talk about him without stupid lines appearing- “won’t push it any farther.”

“The last time you said that about someone, they shoved you into a wall, broke your glasses, and stole your homework for themselves.”

Almost subconsciously, a hand came up to touch the black scotch-taped frames. The glass hadn’t been cracked in any way that impaired him, but he had been forced to pull an all-nighter to rewrite that essay differently so he wouldn’t get an F for cheating.

It had been remarkably stressful, especially since his head hadn’t stopped pounding for weeks after.

“Yeah. Gollum won’t do that though.”

“He better not. I’ll fucking kill him.”

Despite the threat of violence, Logan couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t even know his real name.”

“Doesn’t matter. I will track this prick down. Nobody hurts you.”

Logan pretended his heart had skipped a beat because of the piece of sandwich he had eaten and not due to the crisp and clear words that appeared across his page. He swallowed once, to clear his throat. And then again, to calm the butterflies in his heart. Plus a third time for luck, before putting his pencil to the page.

“I feel you’re being slightly dramatic. Gollum hasn’t even done anything yet.”

Purple drew two quick little bubble people underneath his sentence one of which was actively punching another. Underneath one, he drew a storm cloud, one that Logan had completely memorized. Under the other, he wrote the word “loser.”

Logan snorted and took another bite of his cheese sandwich. He glanced at his phone.

“I’ve got a minute.”

“Oh.” There was a pause. “Well, I’ll see you at 4:30.” Another pause. “I have something I want to tell you. Puppy says that I should do it today.”

Logan blinked. “Okay. If you don’t mind me asking, why today?”

A third pause.

“It fits with the theme, I guess.”

The theme.

Logan could barely hold his pencil he was trembling so hard. “Okay. Yeah, I’m happy to hear what you have to tell me.”

Please…

“Cool,” Purple wrote. “I’ll write with you then.”

Virgil was going to throw up.

Patton had told him “It’s Valentine’s Day! It’s romantic to confess your feelings today!” but Patton had also told him that chicken was a vegetable so Virgil honestly didn’t know why he was taking his advice.

He glanced down at his phone.

4:25.

Which meant he would have five minutes until he would be telling Logic how he felt.

And that was fine.

Fine.

Absolutely fine.

The worst thing that could happen would be Logic laughing, shutting the notebook, ripping off his brain piece of paper, and never talking to him again.

But that wouldn’t happen.

Right?

Urgggggg.

4:27.

How had two minutes passed without him even noticing!?

Virgil got to his feet, holding his notebook closed in his left hand while his right clung to the black pen he had found in the school hallway. He paced up and down his bedroom floor.

4:28.

What was he going to say?

Virgil wasn’t sure. He had flirted and kissed before, but they had all meant nothing, all been distractions from the real yearning for a boy he couldn’t meet.

And they had all been in. Fucking. Person. Virgil was good at the in-person shit. He knew how to place friendly touches, how to grab someone by the hand.

He did not know words.

He glanced back down at his phone.

4:32.

Shit!

Virgil hastily ripped his notebook open, flipped to the last page they had written on, and found Logic’s adorably messy writing already sprawled across it.

Great. Just great. Now they were starting this off late and terribly and Virgil really was going to throw up.

“Hi.” Logic had written in that green pen he always used when he was at his job. “It’s a little busier tonight than normal, so I might randomly disappear a couple of times, but it’s still light enough to talk.”

Virgil had barely finished reading them before he scribbled out in probably the messiest he had ever written since middle school; “That’s cool. Sorry, I’m late. I was-” nervous. Virgil scribbled out the I was. “I was I lost track of time.”

“It’s not an issue.” Logic’s response came instantly. “How was your day?”

Terrible. Virgil had barely been able to eat with the thought of being rejected plaguing him and focusing on school after his study block had been a complete no-go. Even drawing hadn’t come easy and drawing was his go-to way of centering himself.

“I wasn’t able to concentrate very well,” Virgil wrote. “And I think Mrs. Sullivan hates me now. She asked me a question and I didn’t know the answer so we just sat in silence for like a minute before she picked someone else.”

“What was the question?”

“How to find the area of a cylinder.”

“Do you-” A thick green line struck through the words. “Do you That sounds awful.”

Virgil’s lips curved up. “Were you going to ask me if I wanted the answer?”

“Yeah.” Even through paper, the response sounded sheepish. “However, I assumed that wasn’t the point of the story.”

Virgil leaped up onto his desk and placed his notebook on his lap. “Don’t worry, nerd. We went over it far too many times in class. I have that sequence of pain down flat.”

“Well. Good, I think.” There was a pause. “You had art class today right? Is your painting going well?”

Virgil’s painting was of a dark faceless nobody staring up at the storming sky around him. His teacher told him it was some of the best work they had ever seen, and Virgil had to admit, he was very proud of the dark yet somehow calming aura the painting gave off.

“I’ve about finished it.” Virgil flipped from the desk and landed on the balls of his feet. “If there was a way to send it to you, I would but… you know. Phone numbers don’t work.”

Logic took a full six minutes to get back to him. Somebody must’ve come up to his register.

By the time Logic’s scrawl did appear, Virgil was back to pacing along the length of his carpet. He had done it enough recently that a path mirrored the bottoms of his feet and the muscles of his thighs ached ever so slightly.

“I’ll see it when I meet you.” Logic sounded far more sure in that fact that Virgil was even on a good day. There was a pause. “Did-” Another pause. “-you say you have something to tell me?”

Virgil swallowed.

“Yeah.”

He swallowed again.

Had he been in person, he would’ve started by reaching out and covered Logic’s hand with his own. That, or flowers. Something simple and blue.

But Virgil had none of these assets on his side, so he had to work through the dumb brain of his and figure out exactly how he was going to say “I’m in love with you.”

“We’ve been friends for a very long time.”

“Yes.”

Logic’s quick response normally made him feel better. Right now, he wanted his nerd to shove a sock in it.

“And you’re very important to me.”

This time, Logic didn’t respond and somehow that was worse than the “yes” from earlier.

“But I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

The moment he had written it, Virgil nearly stabbed himself with the pen. Why on earth had he phrased it like that?

And it certainly didn’t help that Logic was still. Fucking. Silent.

God, he really was going to throw up.

“I mean, I do want to be friends.” Virgil sat down on the floor right in the middle of pacing. “But I don’t want to be friends.”

He stood back up and paced in a different direction than the latest path he had created in his rug.

This wasn’t working. He just had to say it.

“I’m in love with you.”

Still no reply.

Virgil swallowed around the golf ball in his throat and stared down at the words he had written. Twice, he almost reached up to cross them off, and both times he just managed to put his pen down.

Why wasn’t he responding?

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Virgil muttered to himself. “I’m sure…”

He flung the stupid notebook across the room. It hit his bedroom wall with an echoing crinkle before thumping to the floor.

He took a breath.

Another one.

Then walked open and re-picked up the notebook.

Where a green response was filling the area underneath.

“I admit, I’ve been harboring romantic feelings for you myself.” Virgil stopped breathing. “I don’t know if I could have convinced myself to confess so, thank you for doing so.”

The world, which had seemed so dark and angry before, was suddenly so vibrant and so full of color that it was impossible not to smile in. That golf ball in his throat faded and replaced itself with a light that forced Virgil to spin in a circle, arms flapping excitedly by his sides.

He froze halfway through his dance.

He should probably give Logic an answer.

“Really?” The word came out hurried. Still neat compared to Logics but nothing when it came to his usual writing. For some reason though, the messiness of it just didn’t seem to bother him.

“I would never tell you a falsehood, Purple.”

Urgggg, he was so smooth. And charming. And smart. And just… He was just perfect.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Virgil smiled down at the paper.

“Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.”

Logan graduated on June 2nd. His parents had managed to get a black graduation gown and when he walked up onto the run-down stage to get his diploma, the only thing he could think about was how much he wished Purple was here to share this moment with him.

His father had cried, but his father had always been a crier. The surprise had been when his mother had started crying; Logan had always pictured her as more stoic and firm than emotional.

But perhaps that’s what change did. It made messes out of us all.

Logan had accepted whatever his parents wanted from him throughout the day without complaint and managed to get a couple of hours to himself while they thought he was off hanging with friends. Now, at 1:23 am, Logan stared blankly down at his notebook.

He was exhausted. Admittedly, he had woken up aware he would be ending this day at the end of his rope, but there was always such a difference between knowing and feeling.

Purple’s neat script appeared on a blank page of his notebook like a hand reaching out to lift him from his drowning state.

“I know you’re asleep, but I just wanted to congratulate you. Already out of school. I still have five more days in this hellhole.”

It was so Purple check-in, insult school, and give Logan an out with a casual joke that actual tears bit behind Logan’s eyes. He blinked rapidly before placing the end of his pencil to paper and writing:

“You’ll be free of High School soon. Then we’ll be off to college.”

“Don’t remind me.”

A laugh choked its way out of Logan. “Are you still nervous?”

“I can’t imagine being anywhere but here. And there are so many things that could go wrong. Fucking taxes.” The writing paused. “Still, at least I’ll have you, right?”

“Always.”

“Anyway, shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s-” a second paused, probably as Purple calculated whatever time it was there. “1:31?! Dude, go to sleep! You must be exhausted!”

“I am.” Logan reached up to run his hands over the blue pen Purple’s appeared to be writing in. “Today was very taxing.”

“You knew it would be. I don’t envy all that social interaction.”

“You’ll have to experience it in 8 days.”

“Bitch.”

That brought a bit of sparkle back to Logan’s eyes, but he still wasn’t smiling.

“How’d it go?”

How’d it go?

Logan had managed to stay polite the whole time. The plastered content look on his face had only ever dropped to pull a smile when his parents hugged him or pictures were necessary. He had shaken every hand that came his way, accepted every “congratulations” and every “well done.” He’d even managed to keep from grimacing at words like “if that the genius?”

“Everyone couldn’t seem to resist the urge to compliment me on getting in ------ on a free ride.” Shit. He had forgotten the stupid thing wouldn’t let them name colleges. “The college I got into.”

“I figured.” Purple’s words came quickly after. “It is very impressive.”

Purple’s compliment did what no other compliment had done all day; it brought a true smile onto Logan’s face and even managed to pull a bit of a blush.

“It must’ve been exhausting,” Purple wrote. “I probably would’ve had a breakdown.”

Honestly, yeah. You probably would’ve.

“I got a few hours to myself but it wasn’t enough to properly-” he pursed his lips and tried to figure out how to phrase everything- “-recuperate.”

“Then you should be sleeping.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Logan could practically hear the humor dripping from each word Purple wrote. “Fucking sap.”

“Yeah,” he wrote tiredly. “I guess so.” He stared silently down at the notebook. “I wish you were here.”

Purple didn’t respond and Logan shoved the book away. He was just so… tired. Of only having these strings connecting him to someone he loved. To his best friend. To his boyfriend.

“I wish I was there too.” Purple words were smaller than normal, and slower written. “We’ll be moving for colleges. Me with my art school, you with your big brain scholarship.”

Logan cracked a smile.

“Maybe we’ll find each other then.”

His hand reached up to trace each letter, starting from then and working its way up to “we’ll.” It came to a stuttering stop before it could reach the word “Maybe.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Top Art Schools. In America. Logan’s mind whirled as he stared at the library computer screen and the stupid blinking line asking him what he wanted to write.

The time zones hadn’t changed. Logan had moved from Florida to M.I.T. in Massachusetts, so he hadn’t shifted over. And Purple had moved from… well, whatever state he lived in to… perhaps the same state, perhaps a different one. He had remained in Pacific Time either way.

Which meant his Art School had to be in California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington, or the very tip of Idaho.

His fingers flew across the keyboard.

There were 454 art schools in California. Oregon didn’t give him a number for how many art schools, but there were over 100 colleges in all. 26 colleges in Nevada, 6 in Washington (although, more than 300 independent), and 15 in Idaho.

Which meant he had around 601 colleges to go through.

It was a lot. It was more than just a lot, but it gave him a place to start, it was doable, and Logan figured he could easily knock at least half of those out given Purple’s descriptions of them. Probably more, if things went well.

He scribbled all of this down in his notebook, along with his general plans on how to find him, before snapping it shut and making his way out of the library and towards his dorm room.

He checked his notebook on the way over.

“This seems like a lot of work,” Purple had written. “Do you really think we can do it?”

Logan paused in the middle of the walkway and pulled his pencil out from behind his ear.

“Yeah, we can do it,” he wrote firmly. “I’ve got resources and time. I’ll even build a program to sort through it all.”

“Lol. You fucking nerd.”

Logan smiled at the words.

“I’ll do it too. I won’t be as good as you because I’m not big brain-” Logan drew a large “X” over “I’m not big brain” while Purple wrote- “but I’ll be looking for you too.”

“That would be ideal.”

He left the notebook open, in case Purple decided to keep talking, but continued on his way up to his dorm room. Logan didn’t linger, though he did give his first in-person friend, Janus Drake, a wave before grabbing an energy drink and a bag of grapes and promptly turning right out the door.

Logan didn’t have enough money yet for a computer that would actually manage to support his work, though he was saving up for it. The library, however, was a familiar area and he was honestly much more comfortable there than he was in any of these ridiculously rich hangouts.

He situated himself at a very nice desk, opened his list of names, and looked through it. Everything had been organized by state and then by rank. Logan was planning on working through the top 10 of each state (or all six in Washington's case) and then continuing from there.

It couldn’t be that hard.

At 3 am, Logan got a text from Janus telling him that if he didn’t drag his ass back to the room and go to sleep, Janus would rip every single one of his books into pieces.

It was just as well. Logan had managed to search through the freshman class of all six Washington, ten Oregon, and had decided he might as well go through all of Idaho as well. He had been about to start Cali when the text had come through and frankly, Logan had done a lot for the day.

He scribbled all of his down in the notebook, told Janus he would be right up and shut down the computer.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon he would find Purple.

Soon turned out to be the very next day.

After his Genetics course, Logan made his way right back over to the library, sat back down on the computer, and opened the top art school in California: The University of California. Its Master of Fine Arts degree at UCLA was ranked No. 1 by U.S. News & World Report. Logan could easily see Purple making his way into that.

Slowly he flipped through the freshman class, looking for the symbol he and Purple promised they would always be wearing. The one still safety-pinned onto his chest and the one decorating practically all of the jewelry Logan knew Purple wore.

And…

There.

Logan’s heart leaped into his throat as he regarded the young man he saw on the computer screen.

He was easily the most beautiful person Logan had ever seen.

The man had black hair that ended in a tipped purple fringe. There was a single shaved line going through his right eyebrow that emphasized the glittering near-black eyes that gazed into the photograph. His skin was a warm dark brown. The man was not smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. He wore a large black sweatshirt, covered in large purple patches. But what Logan’s eyes strayed to, and what had his eyes burning, was the patch sewn into the sweatshirt and the metal symbol hanging from around his neck.

Logan had every single line of that goddamn stormcloud memorized.

He looked down at the name and read it over several times, letting the words sound within his head and fully settle within him.

Virgil Casey.

“Vir-gil.” Logan sounded out. He ignored the glances from other students. “Virgil.”

He had a name. He had a location.

From that point on, it was ridiculously easy to find his phone number and the social media accounts Virgil had created. And see that every single one of them had a single picture on it.

The stormcloud.

An actual tear slid down Logan’s face. He wiped it away furiously and ripped open the notebook.

“You’re beautiful.” He wrote. Another stupid tear slid down his face, only to be sliced away by a quick hand. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Virgil got back to him faster than Logan expected. “You found me?”

He responded not on paper, but by a picture of the little brain with glasses Virgil had drawn for him years and years ago, sent over text.

The text noise startled Virgil, but he practically fell over himself in his desperation to reach it. He tried to open it, but the stupid face recognition wasn’t working and then he put in the wrong passcode three fucking times-

Please, please, please, please…

It was a picture of a piece of paper, cut into a neat circle and placed upon a light brown tabletop. A safety pin was open and still stuck through the top of it.

It was him.

It was Logic.

An actual sob ripped out of Virgil and his knees banged into the wooden floor of his dorm room. Roman, his roommate, glanced over at him in alarm but Virgil had eyes only for the screen, for his genius boyfriend who had somehow managed to find him through nothing but the words “Art School” and basic time zones in 2 days.

“Logic?” Virgil’s fingers could barely find the letters to type what he needed, barely even hold the phone up. Breath still in his lungs as those fucking dots appeared, letting him know Logic was typing, letting him know…

“My name is Logan Berry.”

Tears slid down Virgil’s face, ruining the makeup he had put on that day, but Virgil didn’t care, didn’t care about anything other than-

“Where are you?”

“MIT. I’m in MA.”

MIT.

Of course. Of course, his genius was able to get into a school like MIT. Virgil should’ve known to look at the school that had beaten fucking Harvard in the ranking, at least according to Newsweek.com.

“I can’t believe you found me.” Virgil swallowed noisily against the egg-sized ball in his throat. “I can’t believe I know your name. I didn’t think I would ever meet you.”

“I admit, I was beginning to lose hope as well.”

Another sob wrecked Virgil at the words. He wiped his eyes, ignoring the staring from Roman, and texted:

“Picture?”

“I’m a mess.”

“I don’t care.”

It took a second for the next image to download.

Logan was in a library because of course, he was. He appeared to have found a corner without many people, which Virgil was certain was a skill he had cultivated over the years.

Virgil couldn’t drink him in fast enough.

He was white, with ocean blue eyes that Virgil could’ve spent hours looking into, memorizing every single shine to it. They were red-rimmed at the moment, surrounded by glasses, and there were enough streaks down his pink face to let Virgil know that Logan was crying as well- though apparently not nearly as hard as Virgil.

That didn’t surprise him.

His hair was brown, short, and neat and fit the aesthetic of the blue tie he wore and black dress-shirt.

He was…

He was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Virgil pulled the phone to his chest and hugged the picture as if somehow that could transfer the warmth over and tell Logan, tell the boy he had been friends with since practically the moment he was born, that he was there. That he…

“I love you,” Virgil texted. “I love you so much.”

Logan’s response came immediately. “I love you too, Virgil.”

The mere thought of his name on Logan’s lips had Virgil crying all over again.

The airport was packed but Virgil did not mind shoving a few people out of his way as he headed towards the exit he and Logan had decided to meet at. One hand fell behind him, pulling the suitcase along as he headed over the other trembled at his side, mirroring the way he kept playing with his sweatshirt strings and pulling his hood up, only to shove it back down again.

The exit was in view. A few people stood around it: parents probably looking for their child to fly home, a random girl, and….

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.

He was shorter than Virgil had expected. For some reason, Virgil had always pictured Logan towering over him, but Logan looked to be only about an inch taller than Virgil. He shifted from foot to foot, and now and then a hand would come up to shove his black-rimmed glasses up his nose.

“Logan?”

Logan turned to him. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. Virgil stepped forward unsure what to do with his body; arms hung like noodles at his sides and his legs remained stiff upon the floor.

“Virgil?”

Virgil swallowed. “Yeah.”

Logan took a step forward and suddenly, they were both moving. Virgil wasn’t quite sure exactly when he had dropped his suitcase, or how his body had known what he wanted but suddenly he was wrapping his arms around Logan’s back, and Logan’s arms were tight against his.

Virgil placed his head into the crick of Logan’s neck and let out a loud sob. He pulled Logan closer, trying to get every single part of them to touch, and knowing it would never be enough, never enough to satisfy those long long years of distance.

They swayed back and forth, neither one wanting to let go. When they did finally step back, Logan’s hand slid up to cup Virgil’s face- and Virgil’s own remained around Logan’s waist, holding him as close as he would without losing the ability to study him.

Virgil had thought he was hot from pictures.

It was absolutely nothing compared to the real thing.

Freckles patterned across his nose, light enough to not be noticeable through the lens. His eyes were even bluer than Virgil thought possible and there was a smile on his face that nearly brought Virgil to the floor.

Logan’s thumbs brushed away Virgil’s tears with one hand, but new ones simply surged to replace them. His own tears were sliding down his face, though much quieter and much less than Virgil’s.

“You’re even more beautiful in person.”

“That’s what I was going to say,” Virgil sobbed. “Asshole.” Logan’s smile was soft, delicate, and so utterly him that Virgil couldn’t help but reach up and trace over his lips with his right hand and enjoy the kiss Logan peppered to it.

“May I kiss you?” Logan asked.

Virgil answered by surging forward and pressing their lips together. Heat spread across his whole body, especially as Logan made a quiet noise and opened his mouth, arms settling into Virgil’s hair. His lips tingled and the feeling only spread as Virgil pressed as close as he could to his best friend, to his boyfriend, to his soulmate.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were smiling.

#analogical #analogicalweek #au #soulmate au #virgil-x-logan #bullying tw #misogyny

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