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gaysindistress · 3 days

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Allies or Enemies - three

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

pairings: Dragonborn!bucky x f!reader

Summary: The reality of her cruel world is more evident than ever before when her stepfather sends her to her death under the guise of diplomacy. Y/n, the expendable daughter of a scared king, must find a way to secure her own protection among the Dragonborn and she will do that by whatever means necessary.

Warnings: nothing

Word count: 3.8k

Author’s note: there are two povs here and I didn’t add who’s they were on purpose *cue evil laughter*

Ari-Hengot means ‘my leader’ in Draconic (based on the very unhelpful google search I did so if it’s wrong it’s not my fault)

series masterlist | two

taglist: @blackbirdwitch22 @alyeskathewave @learisa @screechingfangirlaf @oh-gods-its-a-dragon @globetrotter28 @mostlymarvelgirl l @salvatoreitmeanssaviour

The words spoken by the sick and ignorant spread like wildfires; drawing close to any unattended wilting blade of grass and engulfing the field in a raging blaze within minutes. What happens now is a question on the lips of every poor farmer as they watch their life’s work burn to nothing but ash and broken spirits. No amount of water and tender hope can rebuild the life that’s been destroyed in seconds.

Much is the same with the towns where the cowardly king’s words are as revered as their holy books.

“Where is she?”

A woman stared off into the distance, looking through the thick trees and towards the small village where the girl lived. The man who had spoken off to her side huffs at her silence, growing impatient with her and the cold wind that sends another shiver down their spines.

“In a small cabin towards the back of the village, the furthest side from us,” she finally answers his question as she looks back at him, her violently red eyes blinking rapidly in adjustment.

He tries not to flinch at the unnatural glow of her eyes but fails miserably as he speaks, “Is there anyone with her?”

It’s her turn to huff, “You couldn’t have asked me that when I was looking?” “Well I never said to look away. You did that on your own accord.”

Rolling her eyes, she looks back towards the village.

“It looks like there are two men next to the door but that’s all I can see. We need to get closer if you want me to see more.”

“Of course, I need you to see more than that.”

The woman narrows her eyes at him and he looks between her and the cabin.

“You have a horse or legs if you feel inclined to actually do any work,” he gestures to both items and then points towards the village, “Get to it.”

“Haha very funny,” she sarcastically laughs, yanking her horse’s reins to the side and leading it away from her male companion.

“Wanda,” he calls after her, his horse not trailing far behind hers.

“No, you absolute ass. You dragged me to this cold barren, disgusting, foul…”

He cuts her off, “Wanda.” “No, do not interrupt me,” her head whips toward him, her headscarf slipping down to reveal a wave of red hair as she rips into him with her words, “You dragged me here, teased me like I’m a commoner, and then demanded things from me while still expecting me to cooperate. You’re dumber than a donkey if you think that I’m going to walk or force my horse to do so in the snow just to see a few more feet than I did before. I'm not doing it. Work with what I gave you or go scout it yourself!”

When she is done and can see past her rage, all she sees is his stupid smirk and she kicks her horse, demanding to be taken far away from his smug attitude.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbles under his breath and takes off after her.

Wanda, the red eyed and haired woman, dismounts her horse the moment she reaches their base camp and passes off the reins to a lowly soldier who grumbles at the leather that falls into his lap. Marching straight through the small camp of seven tents, she pushes aside the heavy red fabric that make up the center tent and storms in without a care in the world.

“If you ever put me with Samuel again, I will send a wind storm into your tent and rip you from your bed the moment before you finish with a woman,” Wanda sneers at me.

I glance up at her with a ghost of a smirk before looking back at the papers and writing something on a map that is nestled on top.

“Excuse me,” she demands as she marches to the table, “Did you hear what I said?” “I did,” I answered without looking at her and looking at his maps.

“Are you going to say anything?”

I don’t respond as I continue to write and draw on the map, charting out our journey home.

“Wanda, I was joking,” her riding companion and my second in command, Samuel, calls after her as he pushes into the tent, taking note of her irritated state and my unbothered one.

“Get out,” she nearly barks at him, pointing at the entrance as her red eyes flare and a breeze sweeps in, “now.”

Samuel shakes his head at her, ignoring her as he walks over to the table and brushing past her as he does so. She physically recoils, causing her headscarf to fully fall and scoffs at the brazen touch. She looks wild with her dirty hair spilling out around her and her sanguine eyes narrowing at him.

“Ari-Hengot,” Samuel starts, “I asked her to tell me if anyone was in the house with the girl and all she gave me was two men but wasn’t able to see anyone else. Is it really so wrong of me to suggest she gets closer if that’s what she needs to be able to see more? I feel like that’s pretty reasonable.”

“You told me that I had legs and that I could walk. In the snow.”

The two start to argue like children in front of me, causing me to drop my quail back into the inkwell and straighten myself to my full height while I clear my throat to get their attention.

“Wanda, Samuel,” I warn, his voice low and commanding before looking at Wanda, “Can we move tonight or do we need to wait?”

“Yes, it looks like there’s only one person with her at all times. We should move tonight before they start to notice someone’s been watching them. It’s only a matter of time before they see a group of brightly colored tents close by,” Wanda snipes as she stuffs her hair back into her headscarf and pulls her thick red coat around her tighter.

I nod in approval of her answer regardless of her sass. I’ve never cared if she lashed out on me, disrespected me the way a soldier should never do to their captain however she wasn’t really mine to wield nor could she control me. Regardless of our dynamic lieutenant and captain, We have a long standing agreement to never use their status or titles against each other. Being the daughter of a well respected human ally to the Dragonborn and a newly appointed lieutenant, Wanda was known to have a tongue that could cut like the cold winter wind and soothe the wounds when she wanted. I had learned very quickly to stay in her good graces to protect myself from her wrath and she, in turn, protected me from the crushing weight our leaders gave me.

“That’s not what you said earlier,” Samuel argues, growing angry that I would so casually accept her appraisal of the situation without a second thought. Him and I may have known each other for several years longer, it is still Wanda that has made any headway in our mission.

“You didn’t ask what I thought. You assumed that because I could only see to the girl that I would say no but,” she turns back to me, “we should make our move now. We only have the snow storm for a few more days and after that, we won’t have cover anymore.”

“Samuel, you may leave now.”

He makes a noise of annoyance about how Wanda’s word always outweighs his but leaves nonetheless. Both of us will soon hear how wounded his ego is but for now it’s not our concern.

“And your visions?” I ask once I’m sure that Samuel is gone and no longer in earshot.

Wanda flinches but shakes it off as she occupies her hands and mind with a thread on her coat, “It has to be tonight and soon or we lose hope of getting her altogether.” Getting the confirmation that I need, I round the table and come to stand before her. Placing my large hands on my arms and pulling at them, I silently ask her to look at me.

“You’ve done well,” I mummer to her, a smile wide on my normally frozen face.

She wrinkles her nose at my praise but accepts it nonetheless. Peeking under my arm she spots the map that I’d been working on. Fear and anger rise up in her as she looks over what lies behind us.

The map is of our lands, stretching as far south as the Unsea and as far north as York. The tiny village that we are encamped by sits in the northernmost mountains of York, placing us deep within enemy territory.

A dotted line marks a route back to Devora and she gasps at where the route has to cross through.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” she almost shrieks as she pushes under my arms and points at my handiwork which does mark a path through certain death.

“He’s been found in their capital, ” I state as I join her at the table’s edge.

“Well then congrats to the Coward King,” she scoffs, “but what business do we have going through there?”

I look at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “We’re going to get him on our way back.” “No we are not.”

“And why not?” “It’s…” she pauses, searching for a valid reason to avoid the capital city of York, Brookshire, “your personal vendetta against him is not a reason to risk all of our lives. We will be killed as soon as we are within sight of their walls.

“I’m sure we can devise a way to get in,” I tell her while I start to cover the map, “and it is not a matter of my personal issue with their king. It is a matter of political correction.”

“Political correction? Have you been taking lessons with Stephanos?”

I offer her a small smirk instead of words as I rub at the spikes on my jawline, my scales reflecting the fire’s blaze at Wanda.

“I shall ask again; are you trying to get us all killed?”

I don’t drop my smirk but add to it with a shrug,“Isn’t that how all great military leaders die? In search of a great treasure for their people? ”

Wanda scoffs at her captain’s undesirable need to prove that I am the best, “We are not treasures. We are people no matter what they say.”

“Ah but you Wanda are the greatest treasure that this world has to offer,” I tell her while I grip her shoulders.

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, you know that,” she sighs. A shiver passes through her and it’s then that I am reminded of how…fragile humans are. York is not a warm place; both in manners and climate but here in their mountain range it is far colder than anything that Wanda would’ve experienced before. Her entire body shakes when the wind brushes through the tents and pushes her way to the front when there is a fire. Some of the others have taken to giving her warm clothing or fabric they find when we pass a village. A few times she’s come to my room at night and wordlessly crawled in, hoping that she would find a pocket of warmth in the thick blankets I collect.

Outside of the tent, I hear Sameul shouting at the others, demanding they be ready within the hour. Footsteps crunch in the snow and horses protest against the cold beneath their feet. This new country is nothing like any of our homelands and it proves to be a worthy adversary as many of us fail to conquer or even assimilate to its conditions. During our nearly year-long expedition, we’ve lost nearly half of our party and things do not look to be any better if we can’t get to her. Soon.

“Praised be the Sfant!”

An elderly woman cries as she shuffles her dying husband out of the small cabin. A hovel really is a better term for the bare shelter that I’m being housed in held captive in. With only two rooms, one being a tiny bedroom and the other the main living quarters, I have little room to practice my ‘gifts’. Although my guards, my captors truly, have clasped thick cuffs wrists to prevent me from leaving. The first time I attempted to run, a thin red string had connected me to my guards and led them directly to me.

I learned to ignore my desperation for freedom rather quickly afterwards.

I try to smile at the woman and allow my body to slump when she is gone. The ache in my bones has not gone away since I woke up in that freezing tower room. Pepper, all too gleeful, explained to me that immediately following my fainting spell, the guards on Anthony’s command attacked the Dragonborn and ‘rescued’ me from the ‘bastardly demons’. My mother had been lost in the battle but Anthony miraculously survived and managed to use her death as yet another example of Dragonborn violence towards York. It became clear with the more I was told that it wasn’t a Dragonborn sword that killed her, it had been a human one.

I’ve grown to believe that it was Anthony’s however I have nothing but hatred and vengeance to support my claim.

Two men, tall, pale, and unnerving, are slumped in the two chairs that were left in the cabin. The taller one, a man with cropped golden blonde hair and a beard to match, is watching her intently with light eyes that unnerve me when I meet them. The other is a dark haired man with similarly cropped hair and facial hair is picking at his fingernails with a knife.

Jonathan, the blonde, stands and places a table in front of the door as an alarm if anyone were to attempt to break in. He tosses a piece of bread to Brock, the dark haired one who gestures towards one of the rooms with the bread as he speaks to me, “Time for bed.”

I can’t help when my eyes roll on their own at his request and instead I decide to clean the altar around me instead. Candles, herbs, and jewelry as well as a book lay around my kneeling body, artifacts from the ineffective ritual I’d just performed. The woman had begged Jonathan and Brock for days to let her husband be seen by me but the two men merely waved her off in hopes that a person with a bigger purse would come by. Finally after sitting at the doorstep day after day, I took pity on her and allowed her in before the assholes could say a thing.

Her husband had been poisoned, the woman claimed as she wiped at his sweaty brow and held him. One look at the black veins that crawled up his neck and were threatening to overtake his face let me know enough; the man had been poisoned but there would be no way for her to heal him. I could only offer remedies to ease his pain and end his life swiftly in his sleep. Dabbing oil on his temples, lips, and behind the ears would ensure that his death would come before the woman even made it to her own hovel.

“Y/N, now,” Brock snaps sternly, his dark eyes beginning to rage at my brazen actions.

I quickly turn my head, the chains and strings of gems that hang from my diadem swinging as I do so, “I’ll go when I’m finished cleaning.”

His eyes flash for a moment before he stalks over to me and rips me up by my arm. He knocks over countless expensive remedies and breaks what he didn’t spill in the process but he shows no concern for it all, not that he ever did. His grip on my arm is bruising and steel- like so I can’t tear myself free. Again my jewelry and other adornments clang together in a painful symphony as I’m dragged across the room; a stark reminder that I am nothing but a living doll to these people and to Anthony.

“You do as I say and quickly,” he grinds out through clenched teeth before slamming the door on me, leaving me in the dark and alone.

I let out a frustrated cry as I tear the undoubtedly priceless jewelry from my body and hair. Letting it clatter to the ground, I resist the urge to break it any further by stomping it or picking it back up to throw again. I’m left in my cuffs and thick layers of robes and dresses I’m forced to wear to look the part of their saint, the Sfant of the Great Rebirth. The heavy fabric becomes suffocating and I tear them off next, shedding the black robes that were embroidered in white and gold before nearly breaking off the buttons to the outer black gown. Similar to the robe, it too is embroidered with white and gold threads but within lays the signature blue of York. A part of me is tempted to burst out of the room in my chemise and throw the foul articles of clothing into the fire but I know I would not be fast enough. The foul men outside would hear my movements before I even made them and would stop me.

Instead, surrounded by the fineries of my captors, I crumple to the floor and cry into my hands. I cry for the people that I cannot save, the people that have died to protect me, for the people that I will inevitably fail, and for the girl that died that night. I cry for the life that I once had where I was insignificant, for the life that was stolen from me when I was bound to the Dragonborn, and for the life that I am forced to live now. I cry harder as the pendant against my sternum weeps and pulses wildly, screaming out to its other half to no avail. The pain and sadness that lives instead of its milky heart has never faded in the year since it was given to me. For an entire year I have felt my very soul being torn in a thousand directions and yearn for the one they all lead to.

I hear the scuffling boots of the men outside my door, no doubt muttering to themselves about how pathetic I am and I wipe at my nose with the back of my sleeve. I get to my feet and gather the reminders of my imprisonment before Jonathan opens the door. Ever the quiet and observing man, he narrows his eyes at me and then scans the room before shouldering in with Brock not far behind. It turns my stomach rotten at the idea of having to sleep in the same room as them but there is no alternative. The first week I had been with them, I tried to escape only to be met with a heaving Jonathan clad in only his pants on the other side of the window. Ever since then, he’s slept under the window and Brock slept in front of the door, leaving me with no way out.

Brock smirks at my state, puffy eyed and barely dressed, and goes to make a filthy comment but Jonathan shoots him a stern glare and the comments stay in his mouth. I should have thanked him for his “protection” but is it really protection when he helped take my captive?

Regardless of his part in my capture, I find myself drawn to him. He is the better looking of the two, tall and corded with muscles from years of training. When he enters a room, he has to duck to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. Since that night I had tried to escape, the sight of his broad muscular chest has not left my mind but I will it away. Instead I try to focus on the stubble of his short beard. Only a mask of stoic duty and harsh words live on his face but sometimes a small smile will take their place. I might have found myself peering at his full pink lips and then up to the pale blue eyes that hide beneath his lashes and thick brows.

But this is not another life and now only malice lives in my heart for him.

Jonathan jerks his head towards the small bed against the wall, silently telling me to climb into bed before Brock forces me to. Not wanting to suffer another bruising grip, I drop the items in my arms at the foot and climb in. I can feel him roll his eyes at my child-like behavior but he doesn’t say a word as he settles onto the cold floor beside me. Brock wishes us both a goodnight laced with something that makes my skin crawl as he too settles in. I quickly turn to face the wall and curl into a ball while my blood pounds in my ears.

Sleep doesn’t find me nor does rest in any form no matter how long I lay there. It feels like hours have passed when I hear something. Beyond the fire crackling and the men’s breathing, I can barely make out the soft crunch of hoofs on snow. My breath catches in my chest as the sound gets louder and the pendant begins to grow warm, nearly vibrating in nervous excitement. I clasp my hand around it as I force my lungs to slow down and try to regain my nerves. The buzzing in my hand has to mean one thing and if I am correct, Brock and Jonathan stand no chance.

A powerful stream of wind whips through the cabin and pins them to the ground, awakening them within seconds from the force. Instinctively I shoot up in bed and am met with the sight of a person covered head to toe in deep red cloth, leaving only their thin pale hands and unnatural red eyes to be seen. I’m so swept up in the stranger’s eyes that I fail to notice men pouring in around them. One thin pale hand removes the cloth covering her face to reveal a woman who’s beauty far outweighs any person that I've ever come across.

A human woman stands before her.

A human woman who commands Dragonborn Knights as if she’s one of them.

The woman cocks her head as she looks over me on the bed and says something in Draconic to a familiar hulking Dragonborn knight beside her. Jonathan growls at their words and struggles against the red wind that keeps him pinned in place.

With a smirk fitting for a snake, she says, “Hello Sfânt Y/N, we’ve come to take you home.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #dragon bucky imagine #dragon au #dragon bucky x reader #dragon x reader #dragon x human #allies or enemies bucky x reader #allies or enemies

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 18 hours

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ok I can only assume there is at least the occasional cuddle pile and bed sharing. So I have to ask, between the three (Gale, Evie, and Astarion) who sleeps in the middle? Or does it switch

The answer is elaborate, because I have a lot of thoughts. Strap in. (Another shoutout to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble)

For context: Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) x Gale AU Headcanon

Bed sharing is a near constant for all of them, it's just a matter of who is sharing with who

Once they all get together, Astarion and Evie both slow down on adventuring and make a more permanent home with Gale in Waterdeep

It's a type of domesticity neither Astarion nor Evie have ever had before, and admittedly a bit of an adjustment for them, even if they find it suites them beautifully

Astarion is down right giddy when he realizes he has fully access to Gale's library, and Gale is more than happy to make room for Astarion's books

The biggest shift for Evie though, is realizing that she gets her own room

It is something they all discussed before hand

Gale and Astarion have slowly been growing more sexuality intimate, and Evie would rather have some place to retreat to when they decide to have sex

She doesn't begrudge them spontaneity, just so long as she's given some kind of warning before hand

Cue Gale sending down his mirror image to inform Evie that, "Gale and Astarion are currently engaged in carnal activities. If you do not wish to go for a walk, it was suggested you take some tea and make yourself comfortable in your room for the evening."

Bottom line though, having her own space and bed becomes a priority, one it takes her a bit of time to fully comprehend

She frankly wouldn't know what to do with it at the start, experimenting with furniture and colors, throwing everything at the wall and seeing what stuck

Eventually she lands on a space designed for comfort; the softest bed she can find paired with so many pillows and blankets you can get lost in it

Also, sound proof walls because 1) she doesn't want to disturb everyone while she practices and 2) for as much as she and Astarion pretending to be loud, Astarion and Gale can get very loud

Astarion considered having his own room as well, but quickly scratched the idea.

He's gotten to used to sleeping beside someone. Even if he doesn't need sleep he still likes being near by. He also has an entire tower to himself while his partners are resting. Why would he stay in one room?

Besides, having the satisfaction of going into Evie or Gale's room and seeing bits of himself mixed in with them makes his undead heart melt just a little.

So, all that to say, sleeping arrangements are kind of all over the place

It's not unusual for Astarion in particular to switch rooms on a whim

On more than one occasion Astarion and Gale have fallen asleep together, just the two of them, only for Gale to have to wake up earlier to lecture

Astarion doesn't want to loose his hot water bottle so Gale then politely suggests he move over to Evie's room. Gale then half leads/half carries Astarion as the vampire dramatically clings to his back before depositing him on Evie's bed. Astarion then buries himself in her nest.

Evie is absolutely sleeping in until noon and just registers Gale going before snuggling up to Astarion and falling back asleep.

Granted, Astarion does not need to sleep, but when is he going to pass by a moment to be dramatic

Evie is also touch starved af, and can be down right clingy when given permission to

Astarion and Gale have walked in plenty of times to find Evie curled in the other's lap just enjoying the closeness

For as much time as they might pair off, however, I do think the majority of the time they can be found together.

Gale is down right hedonistic when it comes to showering those he loves with affection and receiving it in return

Astarion will be the first to admit he's a greedy bastard and once he gets a taste for something he only wants more.

And Evie is so affection starved she grabs on to whatever is given to her with both hands

The three of them actually run the risk in getting so caught up in each other, they can forget other people exist

So, when it comes to them all cuddling together, they really don't care who is in the middle, so long as they're together; it's just a matter of who needs what

Sometimes Evie and Astarion conspire to get Gale to finally relax and keep him in bed with them; all but ensuring he's late for lecture or even not to show up at all

Sometimes Evie and Gale can feel Astarion getting inside his own head and want to remind him that he's safe and loved

And then there are the times Evie needs that same comfort, that for the first time in so long, she's not alone

And sometimes it's not even that deep

Evie often comes back the latest so that means she's slipping into the side of the bed with Gale or Astarion in the middle

Because she gets back so late, it's not usual for her to take an afternoon nap with Astarion holding her, only for Gale to join them

Or Gale and Evie cuddling together and Astarion inserting himself like cat until somebody gives him attention

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion x tav #gale x tav #astarion ancunin #bloodweave #gale dekarios x tav #bloodweave x tav #astarion x evie #gale x evie #astarion x gale x tav #spawnsong #astarion x gale #asexual!tav #bard!tav

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moofuuu · 3 days

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The Triple S

The Triple Threat~☆

And some headcanons below about these guys!! And I mean all six of them!!

V So a big post if you press past this point!! V

Here's some headcanons and other info I have for my own characters and designs in general to the triple S!! I am very passionate how I represent these guys, and I would like to note that now, before you guys read any further, I AM MYSELF A TRANS MAN!!! I DON'T SPEAK ON MOST PEOPLES BEHALF, BUT I WOULD LIKE TO SAY THAT SOME THINGS MIGHT BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME OF YOU IDFK

Now without further adoo, let's get on with the headcanons and information about the hedgehog's!!!

Sonic Headcanons

He/Him! Bisexual!

24-25 yr old

People say his boobs are growing, and yes I fully agree with that, and yes I do prefer him as a Trans man... but I love the idea of a strong muscle man with Trans scars is so goddamn UGH ♡♡♡

Sonic is getting built, growing some more muscles, and getting stronger with each series and or game!! It's the reason he's getting so big!!

He's also had both surgeries!

Top and bottom scars and also he's way more like the cocky type if you think Archie comics a bit, but of course he cares for his friends!! A whole lot actually and plays around with them too.

Amy gave him those knee and elbow pads to prevent a whole lot more scraping

even though it doesn't help much It still looks nice and it fits him, and the amount of times he slides against the grass and grounds a lot, of course he's gonna rely more on the knee pads a lot.

He wears hiking boots/shoes because they last way more longer than regular running shoes! It's something he prefers and well, the kicks have a lot more "oomf" to them when he does kick with those boots of his.

It takes a lot to take him down!! He's not your average soft man or gentle guy, he's more of your tough brother and he does get emotional!! But it's not usually the way you'd typically think, for he just gets a bit more colder to the shoulder when it's a serious situation with a more cutting edge.

Sonic's a goofball, just like it shows in the Sonic boom series, he loves just fucking around and doing silly things on the side really.

He's still learning a lot and still has that young college boy mentality to be honest.

Also well versed in close combat because of his best friend and rival Knuckles! He learned some moves from him when they met and all!

He has hyperactive ADHD!!

Sonic is a close combat character!! He prefers to fight his enemies as close as he can as he can hit powerful kicks and can throw powerful punches.

Has PTSD

His relationship with Shadow is mostly rivalry, and the two butting heads all the time!!! But never actually hanging out casually as Shadow refuses to hang out with him, and Sonic is fine with that; besides, he gets on his nerves intentionally... Never unintentionally, and the two of them know when to take matters seriously. He also thinks Shadow has a thing for someone, but he ain't no gossip-er... though Rouge brings that out of him, and he hates it.

His relationship with Silver is casual rivalry, but he can't even trash talk with him!!! He takes things to literally and doesn't even understand half the words he's saying!!! It's like he's an old man!! But Silver isn't even the oldest of the three!! In fact, the youngest and yet Sonic can never find himself having fun trash talking to the guy, but he is fun to hug though and a great listener...

Shadow Headcanons!

Any pronouns

• [Usually default to he/him though]

Demiromantic

30-50 yrs old

He doesn't really know nor really cares to know. Also, the oldest out of the triple S but not the tallest despite his alien genes.

He's in the middle... though mostly fighting close as he uses guns when necessary. Shadow is a close combat and ranged combat mobian, his muscles mostly in his arms as you need to keep your guns steady and able to handle the recoil in guns in general.

He has a bunch of old accessories! Like old patches from old bands, stickers and magnets but he hides those in small containers because he doesn't want to stick the stickers on anything.

It also usually works in the night!! He can't really work during the day as his black fur sticks out like a sore thumb and he also can't really sleep anyways sometimes.. as his nightmares sometimes gets to him.

If he doesn't have anything to do, he'll be pacing around in his office, wanting something to do, someone to talk to or listen to... but he's not about to go bother someone as his colleagues might be busy. Definitely won't go talk to Sonic as he's annoying.

He wears shades!! Mostly because the sun hurts his alien like eyes sometimes on some days where he pulled all nighters and hasn't seen the light of day.

He definitely has some routine going on as he has too stick to it, he's always so strict on himself because if he isn't, they would only end up thinking to much about their past and they're not about to deal with that.

They look great for their age, it only makes sense though as part of his life was in a tube, grown and raised in space.

After crashing into earth after escaping the A.R.K and leaving Maria behind [against his own will], it traveled the world for a bit, for Maria, for it... for itself as it was curious about the world... but eventually, G.U.N. caught up to him and, with the lack of fighting skills, eventually caught.

His shoes are bulky!!! Being made in the 1950s, there's no way his shoes look that sleek, and I will continue drawing them bulky.. also, I'm keeping the rings to how they originally looked in the SA2. Instead of straight-up rings on the hands... some rims are on the rings as they show that the ring inhibitors can come off.

Shadow is known to keep to himself most of the time and is close to his friend Omega and Rouge

He has autism, PTSD, and a bit of auditory hallucinations..

The hivemind is a part of the reason it's still there, but he destroyed that long ago! Yea, he did, but he's still needs to get used to the sounds in his head about needing to renew his own species.

Relationship with Sonic •

Its relationship with Sonic is... rocky, he gets that he's the hero and everything, supposed to keep the world safe, but he won't leave it alone!!! Of course he's better at everything than him!! Fighting! Guns!! He can do it all! But racing!! Gah!! He won't shut up about it! And how he won't shut up about how much shorter he is... but seriously, it seems like each time they're in the same room, Sonic's goal is to annoy him or get on his nerves... which works each time not going to lie.

Relationship with Silver •

For Silver, his relationship with him and all that, despite being the one to almost kill Sonic when meeting and killing him, he learned a lot, and he's glad to have shown the bad things and bad intentions Mephiles was planning. The fact that he doesn't even try and do anything suspicious either is refreshing... The fact that he holds no judgment to anyone too is something new and refreshing too, meeting Silver was like... for once someone doesn't judge him and just listens... he also lost a best friend, which was Blaze. He gets it.. doesn't he..? Why does he feel this way..?

Silver Headcanons!!!

Pansexual | He/They

20-23 yrs old!

Wears a jacket for warmth, a binder for comfort, and pants for comfort plus warmth as well! He wears these rings to keep his own magic in check, and so it's much easier for him to not always focus on the target he's holding.

From the future, but a devastating one... no matter what he did, no matter what he said!! The future never changed, and it was always some wasteland. He needs to check up on it every once in a while, though, to make sure the future is still the future and that he should figure out how or what to defeat their enemies with!! They don't know specifically or much details but with their small Itty bitty skills of detective work from reading books, they will be able to help at some point... right???

Shortest of the three and lacking muscle, but there's a reason for that!

They are mostly ranged fighter as they rely on their telekinesis a lot and can not fight close for the life of them.. can't even use a gun without being scared of it!!

They are well versed in the books, and had read a lot of things, when they read instructions, they can get it not instantly but with a few trials and errors they can actually perfect the thing they're learning. Cooking? Yes! Baking? Yes! Sewing?? Few pokes by accident but yes!!!

Though his build is small, he's actually pretty brave, as he grew up in an apocalyptic world, learning to scavenge and fast with food and water... learning about plants and all!

He infact... hates the cold but wants to see winter snow... he got way too used to Crisis City and its extreme heats!!! His body is cold like a fridge, but... luckily, he has friends that can keep him warm!

He lost his best friend and sister, Blaze; her sacrifice to sealing away the evil that was in the future and now wears red earrings to represent her. Though... the Blaze he met that's from another realm... reminds him too much of his old sister... though she seems a lot more strict with herself than anything.

Learned most of his knowledge in books!! No matter how bad the writing may have been, he would read it... and tries his best to keep an open mind to a lot of things... Blaze (from his timeline and world) had even helped him read and learn some things from the books.

They're indeed the fluffiest

Has albinism!

Got their powers from when they're young, telekinesis is actually quiet rare!![I rarely see anyone use this and just IMO!!! Concludes to being it a rare super power..]

Telekinesis/Psycokenesis is actually quiet rare, how he got it was through an attack, an attempt was made at his life by flames and Blaze wasn't there to help, but luckily his powers activated in time, blowing away all the flames that threatened him.. though now he's scared still

Has Audhd!!

Introverted as you can't just shove someone into a group of people even though they haven't even been around anyone but ONE person all their life!!

Though he does have lots of interest and loves listening in on everyone's conversation.

He thinks out loud to himself

PTSD as well...

Trust issues after Mephiles.

Relationship with Sonic •

His relationship with Sonic was rocky at first, and he hates how he was so mean to Sonic! Trying to kill him and all for the right reasons!! He swears it was for the right reasons!! He almost did it, and he was so glad Amy was there to stop him... though it was hard to understand at first, but lucky for his open-mindedness, he was able to get over it. Finding out Sonic was actually the good guy and learning that he was actually the one he read in all the books about the legendary blue hero and not the so-called "iblis trigger." To meet your idol and the hero, and he's so calm and nice and oh— never mind he's fighting with his friends again... well, at least he's so forgiving and forgetting... but Silver sure as hell ain't, he hasn't even forgiven himself yet for being so mean to him at first. But he keeps trying to do this trash talk??? Sometimes Silver gets it...

Most times, not getting it one bit. Though his charm and skills are very admirable, and they want to learn it someday.

Relationship with Shadow •

He's the reason he even got out of killing the blue hero in the first place and sure was cold-hearted and rude at first.. even kicked him in the head, but that was well deserved, honestly. But seeing through the lies and actually the original form that Mephiles had taken!! And to learn he was actually manipulating Silver!? Agh! It's hard to read someone, but... Shadow just looks like he needs a friend and someone there to show him it's okay to open up at least a bit! That's what Sonic showed him, and that's what Blaze did too!

Silver can't help but look up to Shadow sometimes though, admiring him and his work and how well organized he is! Better than Silvers chaotic schedule that they try to keep too!! But learning that Shadow had a friend and lost them ... Silver can't help but feel closer to him in some way after learning such detail.

v The Triple Threat v

Scourge Headcanons!!

24-26! He/Him

Bisexual

He's the shortest of the three cause, well, he's a hedgehog! He's insecure bout that, but not as much as you think. He is also a big-time flirt and puts up a big tough guy front. Has commitment issues and also hates really keeping up with any friends, especially after how many times he been fucked over.

But that didn't really seem to stop him getting to more other buddies, Venice and Terios, who's actually not as bad as the rest and actually have been on the same level as him

Terios is intimidating and strong, sure, but he Scourge can never get that guy to get angry at him and it's fair, guy seems like he's been through a lot.

Venice just so happens to come from some future, but he said he was sent back to save the past... but surprisingly, the guy just didn't want to and joined Scourge's ruling.

So his new friends are really okay to say the least, they can care less about others as much as him but no matter what Scourge is still some type of Sonic, so of course he has some respect for his two buddies...

Pathetic really as he can't get over his ex Fiona, and everytime he complains about it Venice is there to slap that outta him, he's not about to go through another pathetic crying session.

Scourge wears all this outrageous stuff because of how he has very much a identity crisis every other week, trying to separate himself and his own looks from Sonic, trying to remove the title of "evil sonic" off of him, gets mad each time he's even referred to the name as he screams out "IT'S SCOURGE!!!" Hating how he's always compared to Sonic as well as he's not at all like him!!

His quills are much shorter but well kept, despite the punkish look to him, he's a lot more cleaner than Sonic himself, as he also likes to plan ahead of time too, but can't really read people well like Sonic though..

Has a dead dad

Ain't as built like Sonic

Just as chaotic, if not worse, and evil at that, who cares about who gets hurt??

Other than his two pals.. don't hurt his two pals.

Venice the mink

21-24 | He/him

Unlabeled.

Despite the looks of it, he's not at all well put together, screaming and yelling at everyone who gets him pissed off, and even dares to make fun of his interests, very closed off as he's always pushing away everyone from him.

Note; as surprising it is, Scourge and Venice are still buddies, though, as their goals in life are really just the same.

Unlike Silver, he doesn't have that pretty privilege that the white hedgehog has, as he always thinks his scar is awful, tanking his insecurities more and how much he hates his looks.. so to combat this, he built his own body to make up the scar he's so insecure about, wrapping what he could in bandages.

He hates seeing Silver and hates how he acts as he sees too much of his younger self in him. He also hates how open they are.

Very much has inner homophobia of himself and has VERY FRAGILE masculinity

Venice would rather get shot in the head before admitting to himself for liking anyone, as he has his feelings locked away deep inside himself so even the smallest fuzziness he feels he would immediately try and push the person away or just be meaner. Self-destruction if you will.

Despite this Terios and Scourge stick by, it's not like they both heard worse and by this point they're starting to learn that Venice's aggressive behavior is also becoming a bit more like aggressive love..

Says lots of death threats to both Scourge and Terios but he can't actually kill Terios, and Scourge, he's why he's okay with being friends with at least a few people.

He hates the other for teasing him so much but it's not like he makes fun of the hedgehog back..

Keeps Scourge alive because Scourge is his kill, no one else's, despite how gay that might sound they're only just friends with benefits and rarely go at it anyways.

His relationship with Terios, he's also somehow less hostile towards the porcupine, but that's because of the power the guy has, and what he's capable of doing.

Terios the porcupine

40 to 50 yrs old

He/him Unlabled.

He's the tallest of the three and is the strongest, waken up too many times and also been resurrected to many times for his own good.

Doesn't like getting into fights much and rather avoid everyone at all costs, but because of Venice and Scourge freeing the guy from his prison, he's tolerant of those two, and ONLY those two.

Full of anarchy baryl, but is weak to the chaos energy from mobius...

He very much has a dad bod and he also just stays out of trouble for the most part because he rather be left alone in nature where no one's there to bug him and actually hurt him... mostly passive and he's also originally a porcupine that was swept off the streets long ago.

A science expirement gone wrong, and left alive for as long as they can... Lucky them, Terios got out, and the island blew. .. well not lucky for them nevermind.

They all said it was for the greater good.. science...

Terios hates technology... not because of his age and non understanding of it...

It's because of how much it terrifies him and actually what the thing is capable of, he's not about to go back and listen to all the humming and buzzing of machines.

Terios sneezes like a dad would, loud and noisy

He rather avoid everyone and everything, not really liking technology or even the city in general.

Has multiple bullet wound scars, but the fur has overgrown them.. but if you touch the body sure can feel them.

He was originally a normal porcupine actually, from the earth instead of space

Not many things can hurt or kill him like his counterpart... he actually died multiple times before but brought back alive each time.

The Triple Threat has a lot more headcanons, but I realize how big this post is getting lol

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frau-wilhelm-klink · 2 days

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Pls spill your ideas on Klink revealing he knew all about what Hogan was doing and just kept quiet. I need the details

Hi! Sure, I'd be happy to. As a Klink fangirl, I'm obligated to defend my man😂 For this answer, I was gonna type it all out...but then I remembered I have a fic that literally has eight different instances of it. (And this isn't a plug, it's just a lucky coincidence on my part because I'm tired.) So I took advantage of my good fortune by taking screenshots of the parts in question. All of these times are canon, and in every one, Klink has either looked the other way and/or not asked questions when he definitely should have been asking them!

To expand on this answer a little more, you have to remember that Klink is a veteran of the first World War. This is a canon fact. And as you may or may not know, there were quite a few veterans of that era who were...shall we say, less than thrilled about the regime. Klink is one of them; he's subtly expressed his distaste for Hitler in canon at least once in "The Most Escape-Proof Camp I've Ever Escaped From". (The scene in question is after he tells Hogan "We all make mistakes. Nobody's perfect." After Hogan looks rather pointedly at the picture of Hitler in the Kommandantur, Klink growls, "Except him, of course.") So we have at least two reasons why he'd support Hogan.

Another interesting fact is how every time Klink grows a backbone, it's always for the same reason - somebody is threatening to take his prisoners out of his camp, and therefore strip them of his protective custody. Now you might say, "Well, he's just doing his job." Which is true, but Klink's also shown to be terrified of the Gestapo/SS. He bows to their whim on everything else. If he was truly that scared of them, he would never speak up. But he does. Even Hochstetter, a man who regularly pushes Klink around despite being outranked twice over, can't threaten the POWs without our illustrious kommandant putting his jackboot down. If said prisoner is Hogan, Klink becomes even more adamant with his refusal. Why? Because he knows what's going on and knows Hogan is needed to lead the operation.

Speaking of Hogan, have you ever noticed how Klink has trusted him countless times with his very life? Hogan claims he's just "an ordinary POW - which is obviously a lie - but yet Klink still does it. He's asked Hogan for his advice more than once. Klink's also relied on Hogan countless times to get him out of one jam or another, already knowing the colonel would find a way to do so, even if it wasn't one that was planned by the Heroes. It makes zero sense for Klink to take that risk unless he knows for a fact Hogan can get him out of Germany if worse comes to worse. You don't get to be a full bird colonel (or Oberst, if we're using the proper German term) by being stupid. Heck, even if you blame nepotism, that would only get Klink so far. And that's not even counting the amount of times Hogan has mentioned things he shouldn't know about to Klink without it being questioned how he knew them.

There's no question in my mind that he knows. Klink might wear a monocle, but he can clearly see how clever Hogan is. He's well aware the colonel is both crafty and sneaky. If he didn't, the visit from Beidenbender ("Hogan Gives a Birthday Party") stating how he, Beidenbender, was personally assigned to get inside Hogan's head would tell Klink all he needed to know. Combine the first three traits with Beidenbender stating Hogan has a tendency to overplan everything and it wouldn't be hard to connect the dots. Especially since pretty much all of the sabotage work the Heroes do is near Stalag 13...which is yet another thing that's been pointed out in canon several times.

As to why Klink doesn't say anything...well, he just wants his Germany back. He doesn't want Hitler in charge any more than Schultz does. Klink turns a blind eye to everything as much as he can, although he still has to make a half-hearted attempt to question things so Hogan doesn't get suspicious. All part and parcel of being the one in command. Does he have other reasons for doing what he does? Possibly. I wouldn't be surprised at all if Klink (who would wait until the night before the Allies arrived to drop that bombshell) is hoping Hogan will protect him.

The thing is, Klink really can't outright say anything to Hogan. Not without running the risk of everything going to hell in a hand basket, anyway. He can't be certain how the colonel would take the news that his jailer is helping him. Klink can't openly join the resistance either; he'd be shot if he did. Instead, our kommandant fights back against the regime in the best way he knows how: quietly aiding Hogan however he can without drawing unwanted attention to himself, his camp or his prisoners.

Whew! Sorry this got so long-winded, but I'm sure you probably guessed it would be when you asked me that😂 Hope this satisfies your curiosity.

#thanks for the ask!#hogan's heroes #oberst klink #colonel klink #wilhelm klink #colonel hogan #robert hogan #my headcanons #my hcs #discourse #theories #canon proof (for some of it)#my ramblings

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beauty-grace-outer-space · 7 months

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Didn't even make it til 10AM without sobbing at my desk this time.

#overachiever to the max #less than an hour at work? Time to SOB!#I fucked up an interaction with my doctor cuz they can't read and I can't pretend to be a sane normal human for two seconds #so I said #Hey the anti anxiety med you prescribed works really well and I do still have several left #but I don't want to be anxious about #like rationing them for fear that I won't get more so can we set it up as a recurring prescription like we had discussed?#and she said “I'm so glad it's working well for you! Happy holidays!”#so I said “Thank you. So if I need a refill do I call or?”#and she said “You can always call our office!”#so I called the office to clarify and immediately burst into tears because I am a disaster who hasn't stopped crying for three days #and they were like “do you... want a refill?” and I blubbered something about just needing to know that I CAN get a refill if/when I need t #so they are going to “Check with the doctor and let me know”#which means that she's going to find out I'm crazy #which probably means she won't give me these again #which means I have 12 to make last for the rest of time because I'm a fucking idiot and broke one trying to half it and it just shattered #because I can't even take pills correctly apparently #also found out yesterday I don't even take BATHS correctly like #jesus christ #can I please for the love of god have one single aspect of my life where I do something right #and am not just a fucked up disaster mess

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lupismaris · 2 years

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Well i cried in front of one supervisor and nearly cried in front of the other we are doing GREAT today

#we had a meeting to review my leave and what support i need for surgery so that i have everything i need #and once we covered the time i would need (two weeks fully out of office and then three weeks semi working from home)#i kept trying to make the conversation about what they needed from me to make the transition easier what i needed to set them up #for my absence to make the leave period easier for those in office aka to make sure i was still needed and wouldn't be deemed useless #and they both kept insisting that the five weeks were the slowest part of the year and they'd be fine they just want me to check in #and what do i need from them what can they do for me and how am i feeling and not to think about work at all #they'd find loopholes if needed theyd take on more responsibility they'd handle the work until i got back and if i needed more time okay #and I'm just- not used to genuine support and im not used to being able to trust said support and im so fuckin overwhelmed #by everything to do with this surgery and life right now that i just started welling up and had to fight it until we were done #and then proceeded to cry on my direct supervisor because she asked me if i was alright and if i felt less afraid of it all #so we're doing great

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ikyw-t · 2 years

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sigh all of the different doses of adhd meds ive tried feel super helpful and effective but then with both the extended release or short release doses when they start to wear off i start feeling very anxious and unsettled and get a headache and it's like ok cool. so for half a day i can feel like a normal and well-adjusted human being. and then the second half of the day will just be anxiety and irritability. like ok. cool. maybe it's just not feasible for me to expect to feel truly regular and normal for more than like 8 hours in a day... like. i guess that's better than dealing with sporadic emotions and motivations on a daily basis? it's just frustrating bc if i wasn't constantly dealing with executive dysfunction i might have actually have reached some of the the goals that instead are taking me years and years

#i started college in 2017 and seeing as i still havent found an internship which is required by my school #the earliest i can graduate at this point is dec 2023 #like jesus. ik everyone's journey is different blah blah. but it's only taken me this long bc ive failed and had to retake like 5 classes #and i still need to take two or three more as well as find an internship to grad #and out of the 10+ internships ive applied to only 1 has even given me an interview #sorry to come back on just to rant again and be depressing it's just soooooo 😓#like one of my biggest problems in general has to be that i compare myself to other people way too much #and that is true but also i cant help comparing myself to whk i COULD be if only my brain wanted to cooperate with me like 25% more often.#whatever idek what the point of this post is i was initially just annoyed that i have a headache #feeling kinda depressed now tbh. hm. gonna have dinner then shower then watch do revenge and paint my nails.#alright well ur welcome for yet another rant from me. signing off now. not rly but figuratively #p

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sttoru · 2 months

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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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hon3y-y · 1 month

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NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold.

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night.

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut.

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition.

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday.

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked.

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru.

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room.

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump.

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them.

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

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noisilyscreechingsong · 1 month

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“The what?”

Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.

So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.

Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.

“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.

“Same,” Danny agrees.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.

The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.

“Bet.”

They look at Duke.

Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.

Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.

“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.

“What’d you see?”

Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.

“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.

“Need a hand?”

Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.

“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”

“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.

Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.

“Whoa-“

Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.

“Holy crap! Danny!”

“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”

“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.

“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.

The three brothers all pause and look at him.

“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.

“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.

Danny pulls it back out of reach.

“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.

“What do you-“

But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.

The batboys glance at each other.

“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”

“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”

“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.

“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Cool. That’s fine.”

After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #red hood #tim drake #duke thomas #mad scientist #danny phantom #batman

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oceantornadoo · 2 months

Text

two lieutenants. (simon riley x f!reader, all fluff)

not supposed to happen, not really. but the higher ups are finding their morality (where was it all these years ago?) and want to pat themselves on the back for adding a woman to the team.

simon is prepared to hate you, someone taking his spot. this one thing he's done in his life well, the one family he can protect. it itches him in a place he can't shake, the thought of change, of a new person. someone who will stare at his skeleton ways and his gruff voice, someone who will judge but not understand.

but then he meets you, tinkling laugh with doe eyes. calculating in your military knowledge, respectful of the 141's history. never overstepping, never trying to take his place, simply wanting to learn. he tries to hate you, tries to dump sugar in your tea and hide your eye black, but you just laugh and make a face at the sweetness, drawing an extra makeup stick out of your cargoes.

he needs to hate you, but you wash his extra masks without asking on the days he can't touch them for the blood that's laced into the seams. you include his cigarettes on base grocery runs and pour over tactical maps with him until the wee hours, understanding his fundamental need to know everything, more than what's in the briefing papers.

you are prepared to be intimidated by the ghost, the killing machine without a name. you know you're the only woman on an all-male team, but even you can't work friendship miracles. then you meet him and he cocks his head and sizes you up, seeing you as a threat instead of a piece of meat. someone worth considering, not a sideshow, not eye candy.

you try to be scared of him, but how could you when he always leaves an extra tea bag in the almost-empty box? when he keeps hair ties in his front pocket because yours always seem to break in between missions. he listens to your stories and nods thoughtfully, not needing to preen and puff his status like men you've met before.

you need to stay away, but he takes off his gloves in front of you that first time and suddenly you can't. he tells you to call him simon and that he likes the way you say his name, your dissimilar accent coming through. he brushes stray hair from the nape of your neck during a desert mission, tucking it back into your bandana, and you can't remember why you ever intimidated by this man who makes you earn his comfort and care, but who gives it endlessly once you've got it. he's your simon and you're his partner in crime, and suddenly you two could never imagine a team without two lieutenants.

im not always into power/rank play i want to be RESPECTED

(don't get me wrong it still eats sometimes)

part one part two part three part four

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod 141 #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #fluff #tornadothoughts #super fluff #tooth rotting fluff #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction

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gojonanami · 3 months

Text

❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈'𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) ❞

❝ PROF. GETO IS SO HOT AND NOW HE’S A DEPARTMENT HEAD !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part four of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you and suguru enter a new phase in your relationship— long distance. the two of you work hard to keep your relationship alive and well — but what happens when distance and work starts to weigh on your time together?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, but also angst depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, long distance relationship, phone sex, shower sex, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, yuta appears *gasp*, fanart found on pinterest (if anyone knows the og artist, pls let me know)

✧ wc: 14,288 | part one | part two | part three

“Baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “c’mon, you have to wake up, we can’t be late,” your boyfriend groans, pulling the covers over his head, and you giggle, gently tugging at the comforter held taut over his head.

“No,” he’s murmuring, as you roll your eyes, “a few more minutes,”

“A few minutes for you will turn into a few hours,” you chuckle, as your fingers finally find the inside of the comforter.

And you’re finally able to pull it off, Suguru’s long locks askew as his pretty obsidian eyes flutter half open, and your lips curl.

How did you get so lucky?

Your fingers run over his cheek, before you press a kiss to his forehead, “C’mon Mr. Department Head, you’re going to be late at this rate — you have to get the keys to your new apartment today and you have a meeting with the staff too,”

Suguru groans, his lips in a rare pout — mornings were truly his most vulnerable times, “Does it have to be today?” He draws close to you, burying his face in your neck, and your fingers slowly rake through his locks, gently easing the knots that formed in the night.

“Unfortunately yes,” you murmur, your fingers tucking a few locks behind his ear, “but I’ll be visiting you in two weeks, it will pass by quick,” it did feel like forever — but you knew it wouldn’t be. The summer would end one way or another and now he was leaving for Kyoto — officially three weeks before classes start, “and we’ll be spending the whole week together — we can explore a little more than we got to before,”

“I know,” he still is surely unconvinced, moving back to look up at you with certifiably the cutest purse of his lips, his warm hand finding your cheek, “but then why does every minute without you feel so much longer?”

Your lips find his in a lazy kiss, your hand sliding to the nape of his neck, his soft locks brushing against your knuckles, “But that will make the minutes we do spend together that much more special, right?”

He hums, pressing his forehead against yours, “how are you so positive about this?” And you sigh, your nose bumping against his, as you press a chaste kiss to his lips again.

“Because it’s the only way I can not completely break down,” you sigh, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you back into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, heart thudding nearly right under your ear, “what time do you have to leave?”

He glances at his phone, “not for another two hours,” and you curl up, fingers sliding against his smooth skin.

“Then a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt,” you murmur.

And you’d take any minute that you could get with him, especially now.

~~~

“Do you have everything?” Suguru never knew quite how much you could fuss over him, until the last few days. You seemed to obsess over every detail — his credentials, his electronics, his clothes — it’s as if you wanted everything squared away — and you simply couldn’t focus on anything else.

Because, you probably didn’t want to.

“I do, I have everything — I have things I didn’t need that you put in the car,” you pout as he chuckles, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss the pout from your lips, “I’ll be okay, I’ll call you as soon as I get there,” he murmurs, “can you pack yourself up and get in the car? Then I’ll really have everything I need,”

You blink rapidly, as if to ward off tears, as you can’t quite meet his gaze, “I wish I could,” you murmur, as your arms wrap around him, and his do the same, pulling you into a tight hug, “how am I going to survive the next two weeks without you?”

“It’s just two weeks right? Like you said it will pass by quick—“

You shake your head, “I just said that to make you feel better,” you look up at him, glassy eyed, “I changed my mind, stay here,” you whine, and he laughs, running his fingers through your hair.

“Think it’s a little late for that sweetheart,” he sighs, his fingers sliding under your chin, “after all, you packed up the rest of my things into my car, so unless I’m living out of it—“

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, as you rub your eyes, and he pulls your hands away gently, kissing your tears away, “I’ll miss you so much,”

“Not as much as me,” and you lean up to kiss him, a sweet kiss that only leaves him aching for more. Why was it the more he had of you — the more he always needed? He knew these first two weeks would be the hardest, but honestly, he’s not sure if it would ever get easier.

Because he needs you. Always.

“Ah wait,” you smile, reaching into your pocket, “you forgot one thing—” and you pull out a key, and he tilts his head, “it’s a key to my place,”

And he blinks, “You don’t—”

“I want to,” you kiss him again, even softer somehow, “please take it,” so he does, as you place the piece of metal into his palm, “plus, it’s practical, if I’m not around, you can let yourself in,”

“Make myself comfortable?” his lips quirk.

“Very comfortable,” you press your forehead to his again, “Go,” you murmur, you pull away reluctantly, his body already mourning the loss of your touch, your fingers still intertwined, “otherwise, I’ll just block your car with my body to get you to stay,”

He rolls his eyes, smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “I’d like to see that,” he presses his forehead to yours, “promise you’ll stop me from ever accepting a job that makes me be away from you for any amount of time again?”

“Now that’s a promise I’ll keep,” you squeeze his fingers one last time, “I think it’s what’s owed to us isn’t it?”

He knows he would never be able to repay what he owes you for everything you’ve done for him — how happy you’ve made him—

“It is,” he smiles, one last kiss to your lips, as he slips into the driver’s seat before he can change his mind.

—But he would try.

~~~

When you go back to your apartment — it feels far too empty. Even though Suguru didn’t live with you — it felt as if he had made a place for himself here, and he had, but he had left it. For now, you remind yourself. His place would be here for him, when he came back.

But it turned out two weeks was a lot of time to kill when you still hadn’t started classes — your days filled with nothing but time for you to spend. None of your friends from class had made it back yet either — so you were stuck trying to find things to do. Suguru was busier than expected — dragged to meeting after meeting and showed off more than a show dog to the department’s professors, alumni, and donors. Suguru often fell asleep on the phone with you, his soft snores filling your ears, as you fell asleep along with him.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if all semester would be like this — especially once his classes started. You understood — you did — this is what you signed up for and it was far from Suguru’s fault. But you couldn’t help but miss him. And that wasn’t surprising — but what was surprising was how much you missed him.

Your bed was bought for one, but now it felt empty with only you occupying it — a cold barren front without your usual refuge in his arms. And the days weren’t bad — you found things to keep you busy — but the evenings and weekends that you usually had spent with Suguru dragged like a child dragged their feet at the grocery store — reluctantly and without patience.

So maybe you needed to do the same that you’d do for a restless child — a distraction.

“Do you know of any organizations I could join?” You had asked Suguru on one of your video call dinner dates — and he hummed thoughtfully as he picked up soba noodles between his chopsticks, “I just feel like I need something to fill my time,”

“The semester hasn’t even started and you’re already thinking about other things to do?” He raises an eyebrow, and you suppress a giggle at the sight of a bit of the soup that remained on the side of his chin. The very same you wished that you could thumb away for him, “my favorite student is as ambitious as always,”

“Your girlfriend is even more so,” you roll your eyes, as you gesture to your own face to signal, and he wipes his, “c’mon, I know my favorite professor must have something to recommend. I know how he looooves to give me suggestions,”

And he snorts, setting his chopsticks down on his bowl as he finishes his meal, “Then I suggest you think about joining the student government — they have a specific section for graduate students and professors, it would be a good opportunity for you to branch out, and put the philosophy department’s brightest on the map,”

Your lips curl at the compliment, “you think I’m the brightest?”

“I was talking about myself,” and you roll your eyes, as he smirks at you, as he picks up his phone and his dishes to clean up, “I think it would be perfect. Why don’t you speak to Yaga about it? He was trying to goad me into recommending some students,”

“So this really is self-serving, huh?” the water of the sink runs in the background, as you do the same, placing your dishes in the sink — tomorrow’s problem — as you washed your hands, “what would I even know about student government anyway?”

“Philosophy has a lot to do with governance, you know that — Cicero, Plato, Aquinas, Machiavelli—“

“Saving the most benevolent philosopher for last,” and you can hear him chuckle, as the water squeaks shut, and he picks up his phone, a smile playing on his lips, “do you think I could help?”

“I think you can do anything, sweetheart, except get a 100% in my class,” and you gape at him, as he laughs, and your heart aches for that sound, more than you thought was possible, “you should do it, what’s stopping you?”

And you bite your lip — yes, you wanted to be busier, but you didn’t want to be too busy for this. To spend time with Suguru — no matter how little it was. But you knew it would be good for you — for both of you. The last thing you wanted was to be needy — even if this week was proving that you were needier than you thought you were.

“Nothing I guess,” you sigh, as you make your way to your bedroom, “I’ll email Professor Yaga in the morning,”

“Good,” Suguru is sat on his bed as well now, his phone propped up, “and your boyfriend has another suggestion,” and you raise an eyebrow, “I suggest my favorite student brings my favorite t-shirt with them when they come to visit me,”

You gasp in mock shock, “You gave this shirt to me,”

“No, I asked you where it was and you said you packed it already, but I see you pilfered it away when I wasn’t looking,” he tilts his head, “now take it off,”

“Professor, that’s not a proper way for a department head to speak to a student,” you still let the shirt ride up as you lean back against your pillows, “have you not gotten your ethics training yet about appropriate behavior?”

“That’s interesting, you didn’t seem to mind last night when you asked me to send you a very improper picture of my lower half fresh out of the shower,” and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips, but your expression grows more serious.

“So it’s all about quid pro quo, Professor?” you sigh exaggeratedly, before pulling the shirt off, “I’ll take it off, but how about if you let me keep it, I’ll give you something else?”

God, you know that look in his eye, and you just wished he could do what he wanted — his fingers would find your waist and your back, pulling you quick and eager into his lap — his hard-on pressing through the thin material of his sweatpants he wore around the apartment.

“And what would that be?” And the shirt finally up and over, a soft gasp leaving his lips at the sight of your bare body, only your shorts left on. You smile.

“Me, of course,” and he’s adjusting his phone, face up, a small groan leaving his lips, “sir?”

“Is that all you’re offering, sweetheart?” and you hear the slight shuffle of fabric, “because that shirt is quite special to me,”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugs at your lips as you see him come back into focus with his phone in hand, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your chest and back, “Is it?”

“If you remove your clothes, I’ll forgive this small transgression,” and his other hand is out of sight, no doubt stroking himself, though you were no better, fingers toying with your cunt through your drenched panties.

“I think that price might be too high, Professor— you might have to give me something in return,” you smile, toying with the elastic of your shorts, and he bites his lip, gaze heavy even through the screen of your phone.

“And what do you want, princess?”

“I thought it was obvious,” as you slip off your shorts, propping up your phone on the pillow designated usually for him, nothing else underneath, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he’s hissing, as you can hear the distinct sound of the squelch of his hand running up and down his cock, “sweetheart, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

And your fingers are teasing your wet folds, imagining it was his own, his thick fingers sinking into one by one, he’d fill you so much better than you do — “show me, Suguru,” He does, flipping the camera to show his erection — flushed red and pretty — beads of pre-cum dripping from the tip, “all this just for me?” And your fingers push past your entrance, a gasp leaving your lips, “my fingers aren’t enough for me, Sugu—“

“show me now, let me tell you how to fuck yourself,” and you’re nodding, hand shaking as you flip the camera around to show your fingers notched inside, gleaming with your pre, dripping down your knuckles, “move,” and you do, slowly at first, and his hand moves too, starting to fuck his fist, “faster, curl your fingers just like I would,” and you do, a whine leaving your lips, “good girl,” he grunts.

The sounds of both of your pants and moans fill your ears, your eyes fluttering open to watch him touch himself, “Tease the tip for me, baby,” you murmur, fucking yourself deeper, when you see him thumb his slit, “wish I could taste you, suck you off, until you’re cumming down my—“

“Princess—“ you know he’s close by the way his dick twitches in his fingers and the way his lips moan your name, “add another finger,” and you do — fuck, the stretch is nothing like his cock, but you can almost imagine it is, “I’m sure you’ve gotten tight without me to fuck you — have you been touching yourself when I’m not around?” You bite your lip, your hesitation was all the answer he needed, “what do you think about?”

“Think about you,” you’re fucking close too, your fingers drenched in your own precum, “think about you coming back, about you kissing me at the door before pinning me against it,” And he’s groaning, the sounds of his hand pumping his cock ringing in your ears, you can’t hang on— “Suguru—please—“

“Be a good girl, and cum for me, sweetheart,” and you do, your toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you do, phone slipping from your fingers, as you hear him groan too, the distinct sound of his cum splattering against his sheets.

You both come down from your highs, pulling your fingers from your cunt, grabbing tissues from your bedside table to wipe off your hands.

“Sugu?” You pick up your phone, and your boyfriend does the same, his cheeks flushed a gorgeous red, slightly more rumpled than before. And you can’t help but wish you could lean over and kiss him as you would, running your fingers through his hair, “I miss you,”

He sighs, gaze filled with affection and longing, “I miss you too, so much — you have no idea, princess,” as you tug his shirt back on, and you lie back, turning on your side, “just one more week,”

“I’m counting the days,” you murmur

“I’m counting the seconds,” and you snort, his lips curled in the damned smile that dragged you into his mess.

“Always have to one up me don’t you?” you bury your nose in the fabric of the shirt, the scent still very distinctly him.

“It is my job after all,” and you smile, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” but you know where this is going — as it always did almost every weekday night.

“I should hang up — I have to clean up and—“

“Review for meetings before bed, I know,” you finish and he raises an eyebrow, “very predictable, Professor Geto,”

“I’ll work on that — watch, I’ll surprise you,” and you chuckle, but you can’t help but frown, “what is it?” and you shake your head, “sweetheart,” and you know he won’t let it go.

“Just call me after you’re done, before bed, okay?” you sit up, glancing at your shorts on the floor, shifting uncomfortably with the wetness between your thighs, “I have to change my shorts and my sheets,”

“You’re welcome,” and you roll your eyes, his lips curled in a small smile reserved just for you, “love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” the call ends, and you’re left looking at your lock screen, a sigh caught in your throat.

Just one more week.

~~~

You stood before the door of one of the university's conference rooms — on one of the floors you did not tend to frequent. You spent most of your time in the classrooms if not the library — but you had attended a few meetings up here for one reason or another. But this was the first time you were walking into a room in quite a long time that you didn’t know anyone.

The student government met once before the semester started — a getting to know you forum for new members, such as yourself. There was no real formal election process for your position as senator — as long as other students were not vying for the position. And luckily for you, no other philosophy graduate student had chosen to volunteer for this entirely optional and unpaid position — a mystery really.

But the nerves still remained — though there was nothing more to do than enter. So you did — opening the door and finding the room filled with quite a few faces, but none of them familiar. You took a seat in a relatively empty section, but adjacent to enough faces, an empty seat on either side of you. The people around you chatted, while you pulled a notebook and pen out — your phone face down on the table, before you grab it and shoot Suguru a quick text.

You: in my first student government meeting! wish me luck!!

The meeting started without much formalities — a simple round table introduction that had you close to going last, but you had a chance to learn more about the other graduate students — most of them were students representing different departments, as you were, while there was also the traditional roles of president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer.

Eyes slid to you now, the president gesturing to you, her name escaping you, “And our newest member,”

They finally turned to you as you waved to the group, introducing yourself by name, “I’m a graduate student in the philosophy department, I’m a third year in the program, and I heard about the group from my department head—”

“Professor Geto?” one of the girls piped up, a literature graduate student who you didn’t recognize, but you were sure had taken Suguru’s class or at least had heard about him.

You shook your head, forcing a polite smile on your lips, “Professor Yaga actually told me about it,” she nods, and the president claps her hands together.

“Alright, this meeting is just to mingle and get to know each other, so please enjoy the refreshments and food provided,” and her eyes flicker down, “I think we’re only missing one person from the group—”

And the door bursts open, “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to run late—” a student with dark black hair that rested past his chin, bangs that framed his face on either side, and a small smile on his lips.

“Students keep you again, Yuta?” the president asks, and the dark haired boy known as Yuta slipped into the room, and took a seat beside you, sighing with a nod, as he set down his things, “good timing, you can help our newest member get acclimated,”

His eyes flicker to you, a smile pulling at his lips, “I’d be happy to,” and the group begins to get up to grab food and refreshments, as Yuta offers you his hand, “I’m Yuta Okkotsu, it’s nice to meet you.”

~~~~

“I hope you stay a part of the organization,” your eyes snap up at Yuta’s words — a curious look on his face, “you just seemed a little overwhelmed in there,” he tilts his head, as the two of you walk towards the metro station, “I may be wrong, but—”

“No I was,” for someone who looked so…innocent, he was really observant — his dark eyes felt like they could pierce right through you — even if he wouldn’t let them do so, “it was a lot — I’ve never been a part of a formal structure like this so it was just a lot—”

“It’s not as formal as you think — the proceedings do drag on but Maki, the president, tends to skip the formalities for the most part — she’s as bored of them as you are,” he chuckles, his fingers adjusting the strap of his backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, “usually the meetings don’t take very long — the events mostly take up our time when it comes to planning and organizing, but we hold a couple in conjunction with other organizations so that helps take the load off,” he explains, “we also organize issues important to the students to present to the president of the university quarterly, so we tend to have more meetings around that time, but we schedule the meetings after midterms, and after finals, so it doesn’t interfere with studying,” and then he catches himself, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, I’m going on and on, I should have just asked you if you had questions instead,”

“No, it was really helpful, Yuta,” you smile, “you’re very thorough,” and you don’t notice how a faint flush appears across his cheeks.

“I was new last year to the organization, and I remember being really overwhelmed — the professor I usually T.A. for roped me into it, he’s been away on research for the last year or so, but I stayed apart of it, because,” he shrugged, a smile on his lips, “I made some really good friends, and I hope you do too,”

You pull out your phone, no reply from Suguru, a small sigh on your lips — it’s fine, he’s busy, “Good friends are exactly what I need right now I think,” you check the time — Suguru wouldn’t be out of meetings for dinner at this rate, “do you want to grab dinner? I know a good ramen spot not far from here,”

“Sounds great,” and you led the way, not noticing the way Yuta’s eyes lingered on you a second too long, before he started to follow you, keeping pace beside you.

A week would pass by quick.

~~~

“What time will you be here?” Suguru asked, as you had him on your laptop this time on video call to watch you pack for the couple days you were spending with him before the semester started.

“I’m taking the 8:00 AM train, so I’ll get there probably by 10:15, so like two hours,” you weren’t sure how much to pack — you didn’t want to do a ton of laundry right before classes started, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to wear, “can you come here pack for me and go back?”

He snorts, “I’ll be right over, but at that point, wouldn’t it be more conducive for me to just stay with you?”

“But I want to come see you,” you pout, and he shrugs, as his eyes flicker up from his work.

“Then you’re going have to pack,” and you give a heavy sigh, continuing to choose what clothes to take. Your phone goes off and it’s a text from Yuta;

Yuta: hey! are you free next week to get dinner after the meeting? But this time I’m choosing the restaurant :)

You pick up your phone and text back: if it’s that chapati place you mentioned, I’m down — otherwise, you’ll have to deal with my severe disappointment

Yuta: I’ll have to leave you in suspense then

You snort, tossing your phone down, as your eyes go back to the screen to find Suguru smiling at you, “What?”

“Just enjoying the view,” and your cheeks burn, as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you mumble, rolling up a shirt in a hurry in a manner that definitely doesn’t qualify as folding, “what view? Me in an oversized t-shirt and shorts?”

“Exactly, with that pretty smile on your lips? Best thing on anytime,” he replies, and you bite back that same smile he complimented — but it’s the one reserved for him.

“You dork,” you mutter, “don’t say cute things or I’ll take the last train tonight to see you sooner,”

“I’d never make you do that so I’ll stop, for now,” he sighs, resting his cheek on his palm, his gaze growing a little more heady, “but tomorrow? I’ll be sure to tell you every single thing I love about you,”

And your lips curl, as you sigh, “I love you, but you should get some rest and I should finish packing and do the same,”

He gives a small smile, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty girl,”

“I’ll be the one running into your arms,”

“Undoubtedly very late,”

“What was that? The sound of me missing my train tomorrow?” And he laughs, as you cross your arms, head held far too high, “that’s right. I’m holding myself hostage,”

“Well if you’re both hostage and hostage negotiator, tell both of you that I’ll bring you your favorite drink and buy you the breakfast of your choice,” and you peek at him, “coming around?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, you better have the ransom ready,” you let a smile escape your lips, “I love you,”

“I love you too, I’ll see you tomorrow,” and he hangs up after, and you sigh — tomorrow, finally.

You’ll see him again — you just hoped these few days didn’t pass by quickly.

~~~

Suguru waited at the station for you, your preferred hot beverage in hand, along with your requested pastry, both in hand as he waited. He opted to have his hair up in a bun due to the weather, a slight wind that carried the warning of fall in the crisp air that morning. But not whenever a snowstorm could have kept him from you that morning — it had been far too many days and nights spent without you by his side while spending them instead in stuffy rooms filled with colleagues and donors.

But now — and he sees people pour from the platform, a throng of harried travelers looking to get to their next destination, and among them all, he spots you — with the red suitcase you insisted made it easier to find amongst the others (it didn’t).

And he’s approaching you, slipping past others, and your eyes find his, your lips in a grin at the sight of him, as you find your way into his arms in a moment — suitcase clattering to the floor probably to the other travelers’ dismay. But he grabbed the handle and turned it upright in a moment, before his arm curled back around you.

“Hi,” you whisper, and he could have stood there forever — it had felt like forever since he had held you. His palm cupped your cheek, a thumb brushing back and forth against the length of it.

“You always know how to make an entrance sweetheart,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, as your fingers intertwine slowly but surely — as if they hadn’t parted, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

“Uh-huh, don’t act like I forgot about the ransom I’m owed,” and he’s rolling his eyes, as he takes your luggage, wrapping an arm around you, “where is it?”

“In the car, how about we stop by my apartment, drop off your things, rest for a bit and then we can grab breakfast, as promised?” You smile, leaning into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“As long as it’s with you.”

~~~

“You made breakfast for me?” you gasp, as he had set the table with all the breakfast staples — “i thought we were going to ‘grab breakfast?’”

Suguru wipes his hands, as he brings over two pairs of clean chopsticks and sits beside you, “Well I thought you might be tired from the train ride so I thought we could have breakfast in and relax before going out before lunch,”

You take the chopsticks from him, fingers brushing as you do, leaning into his side, “It’s not fair being this perfect,” you murmur, your head against his shoulder, nose brushing against the soft fabric of his t-shirt and his skin, “when are you going to show me your flaws?”

“I think I’ve shown plenty of those the last few months with how things have went before we even began dating,” his lips brush against your forehead, “now I just want to treasure you — as much as I can,”

“Me too,” you lean up and meet his lips in a soft kiss that steals the logic from your head and the air from your lungs — and only leaves his touch behind, “Suguru…” and you want to admit to him how hard it’s been without him, how much harder it's been than what you expected — and how you worried about how hard would it get during the semester, when you both were busy? “I really missed you,” you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and you speak before he can get even a syllable out, “but I’m so glad we’re together now,”

He didn’t need to know — he would only feel bad. You could handle it—

“Me too,” his gaze is soft, as he pulls back to find your lips in another achingly gentle kiss.

For him.

~~~~

“This weekend is supposed to be for you, why are you shopping for me?” Suguru says yet again as you peruse another homegoods store, looking for something to decorate what you claimed were the “barren landscape” of his apartment, “we should do something you want to,”

“This is something I want to do,” as you inspect a globe with the same scrutiny you’d apply to a Aristotelian text — brow furrowed in thought as if this knick knack would give you some unintelligible insight on metaphysics (it did not), “you’re going to be living there for a while, I want you to have an apartment that doesn’t look like a serial killer resides there,”

“Why does it look like that?”

“Because it doesn’t look lived in,” you pick up a set of matching bookends, “these things make your house look lived in and feel welcoming,” and then you put the bookends down thoughtfully, “although we should start with more basic things, like frames and a full length mirror,”

“Well if I look like a serial killer, you don’t have to worry about anyone who comes over, because they will think I’m a murderer and feel very unwelcome,” and you laugh, intertwining your fingers with him, “I don’t care about other people — I care about you, so will this make you happy?”

You nod, “Because I want you to feel happy here, and that will make me happy,”

And he wants to say the only thing that would make him really happy would be if you lived here with him — to wake up beside you each morning, to come home to you each evening, and fall asleep beside you — but he couldn’t say that. It would almost be cruel to say something that wasn’t possible right now. But it would be — it would be possible.

“Okay, let’s find some things,” his arm curls around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “but remember, you do love this serial killer,”

“That’s only because I’m far too wonderful to murder,” and he rolls his eyes, as the two of you continue to shop, and he watches you continue to pick up and examine things — and he can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like when you both shop for your place together. And he bites back a smile.

Only a few more months — and you could be together. It wasn’t forever.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

~~~~

“You said no work while I was here,” you were doing your best pout if only to change his mind, but he was unrelenting, his shoulders slumped in resignation, and his lips in a purse at his desk in his bedroom, “Suguruuuuu,” you’re officially whining, and you know it’s not his fault, but you have such little time with him, you don’t want a minute to be wasted.

“I know, sweetheart, but Yaga wants to speak about the semester starting, and I didn’t have much of a choice—” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck, lips pressing kisses to the hollow of his throat, “princess—” he groans.

“I want to get in my cuddles before,” and your teeth graze the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he sucks in air between his teeth, “how long is your meeting?”

“About half an hour,” and you hum, kissing his lips, languid and slow, your fingers threading his lengthy tresses, “it’s about to start—” and you’re kneeling down in front of his chair, as the video call starts to go off, as you look up at him between his knees, “sweetheart—” he’s hissing, wide eyes, as you undo his belt and the zipper of his pants.

“Then let’s not waste any time,” you grin, toying with the waistband of his boxers, “pick up the call.”

And you thought he would kick you out from underneath, nudging you away, and you would relent if he really didn’t want this — but he doesn’t. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he picks up the call, placing his earbuds in his ear.

“Hi Professor Yaga,” Suguru says, and you’re almost surprised how normal he sounds with you between his legs, but Yaga can’t see the way his muscles tense when your fingers spring his already half hard cock free, “Yes, we do have a couple things to cover. No, I don’t mind starting,”

Well if he insists, you’d start too.

Your fingers slowly stroke him to fully erect, pre-cum dripping over your fingers as you do, your eyes flickering up to see his expression still perfectly normally, the only telltale sign being the way his fingers white knuckled the armrest just out of sight. His cock was so unfairly pretty — a deep red at the tip with a slight curve that had your thighs pressing together at the thought of it sinking into you. Your lips press a kiss to the tip and he wavers mid sentence, as you smirk against his cock, as your mouth parts to suck him off.

And it seems like Yaga is the one speaking now, as he seemingly mutes himself, resting his chin against his hand, covering his mouth with his fingers, “Fuck, sweetheart,” he swears under his breath, as your tongue traces along one of his veins, sucking at the tip, as your fingers drift to toy with his balls.

The tip of your tongue flicks against his weeping slit, bobbing your head along the length, as a hand of his drifts down to thread in your locks, nails digging into your scalp.

“S-sorry, what was that?” he seemingly unmuted himself at a question, and you’re sucking even harder, nose brushing against his pubes as his tip brushes against your throat, “N-no, I’m fine, sorry, I’m not feeling well,”

You suck one more time, and he’s gone, as he barely can mutes himself and turns off his camera, groaning, as he spills down your throat, as you swallow it, his head thrown back against the headrest of his chair. And he’s panting, as he looks down at you, half lidded and lost in pleasure, gaze darkening as he watches you pull away, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his softening cock, as you adjust his boxers and clothes.

“What happened to Yaga?” and his glance tells you he certainly does not care — chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Disconnected after I went silent — I’ll tell him my internet went out,” and you’re slowly rising out from between his legs, and his fingers find your waist, tugging you close, “you really are a bad influence,” and his lips find yours, your fingers cupping his cheek.

“I told you I didn’t want to waste time,” you grin, and in one smooth motion, he’s dragging you into his bed, giggling leaving your lips as he showers you with kisses, “Suguru!” you yelp as you fall backwards into his plush bed, and he’s tugging off your shorts and panties with ease, folding your legs up, one of them brushing against his shoulder, as he kisses your inner thigh, a smile against your heated skin.

“My turn.”

~~~~

“How did this week go so quickly?” you sigh, burying your face in his chest on Friday night, knowing you have to get on a train tomorrow morning, “it’s not fair, it’s not enough time,” you murmur, tracing circles on his skin, “and now I don’t get to see you for a month,”

“I know, I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “but it will pass by quick — you’ll be busy with classes and I’ll be busy with work — it won’t be as bad as we think,” And you don’t want to admit your fears to him — it would make it all too real, as if they would emerge from the syllables your lips spoke into a new reality before you — and you couldn’t take that risk, no matter how illogical it was.

“I know, I just can’t imagine spending this much time apart,” you glance at him, “don’t know what I did without you before, I don’t even remember what I spent my time doing,”

“Revising the essays I made you write?” and you pinch his cheek, and he’s laughing, “sorry, couldn’t resist making that joke,”

“Yeah, I recall you couldn’t resist me either,” and his fingers drag lazily over your cheek, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Well, who really could resist you?” he sighs, content seemingly in just the act of touching you, “I tried and failed — and I am a master at resisting temptation,”

“A paragon of morality truly,” and he snorts, as you kiss his neck sweetly, ghosting over the places you had left marks, “though there was definitely nothing moral about what we just did,”

Your lips find his again, a lazy kiss that grows slowly with more heat the more your lips meet again and again and again — until he’s parting, “It’s just a month,” he says as if he can sense your anxiety, “I’ll come see you, I promise,”

“So if you don’t come, I can summon Immanuel Kant to scold you for not fulfilling your promise?” and he laughs.

“A scolding from you would be far more effective, but Kant is able to come if he can make it — death’s a worse commute than to Tokyo,”

“Who says?” you mumble, pressing your forehead to his, “you’ll take me to the station?”

“Of course,” and you have only one request.

“Don’t come inside ok?” his brow furrows, but you softly smooth it with the back of your knuckles, “Otherwise, I’ll end up crying — and I rather not subject you or the passengers near me to that,” and he chuckles, a frown still on his lips.

“Are you sure?”

It wasn’t just the crying — you knew if he walked you to your train, you’d want to make him come with you or let yourself stay — and you couldn’t do that, not to either of you. This was temporary — it wouldn’t be forever—

“I’m sure.” you kiss his lips again, rolling over so you were on top, your bodies brushing against each other with the familiar heat you’d miss when you were back home again.

—so why did it feel like forever?

~~~

“You promised me a better meal and this place nearly burned my taste buds off,” you grumble, as the two of you stand outside the restaurant, rain pounding against the awning as it starts to come down, the spicy food from the chapati place doing little to keep you warm now against the frigid wind of the autumn carrying the promise of being drenched with it.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Yuta chuckles, holding a hand out for the rain, “now at least the spice will help on the way home,”

“The only good thing about this place is that it's close to my apartment. I have a ton of work to do already — and it’s only the first week of classes,” you sigh, pulling out your umbrella, and glancing at him, hands still empty and unmoving. You hold up your umbrella, waving it, “Did you not bring one?” as you pull out your phone to check the weather reports.

“I didn’t know there was rain in the report for today,” he sighs, waving you off, “go ahead, I’ll wait for it to let up or find a convenience store nearby— I just need to make it back to the station—”

“Trains are down because of the storm,” you raise an eyebrow, as you glance at him, “come on, you can stay at my place,”

He’s shaking his head, holding his hands up, “No, I don’t want to—”

You tilt your head, glancing around at the clearing street and the distant rumble of thunder, “So are you going to camp out here outside this restaurant for the night or?” and he’s chewing his lip, as you chuckle, “it’s not far, we can share the umbrella, and hopefully we won’t get completely soaked,”

“Well, we’re not completely soaked,” you close the door behind you both, dripping water onto your floor, as you sigh, “hold on I’ll grab towels,” and you do, coming back quickly so you both can dry off.

And you notice the damage done to his clothes are far worse than yours, completely soaked through, the towel doing little to help aside from stopping the water from forming a larger puddle near your entryway.

“You held the umbrella mostly to my side, didn’t you?” And he pauses, his hesitation the answer you needed, as you sigh — “you’re more of a martyr than you need to be,”

“Well, I want to help my friends,” he gives a small smile.

“Even at the detriment of yourself?” And he shrugs.

“I can handle it,” and you shake your head, as you head to your closet pull out a fresh towel and clothes — but not your own.

“Go change,” and he glances at the clothes, hesitates, but takes them, as he frowns, “it’s fine, Yuta, go shower and change,” you show him where the bathroom is, and how to turn on the water.

You head to your bedroom to change and dry off, grabbing a fresh t-shirt and shorts — chewing on your lips — you had to give Yuta some of Suguru’s clothes you had stolen — your clothes wouldn’t exactly fit him properly. But you pouted, now you couldn’t sleep in Suguru’s shirt tonight, and you sighed, it was just as well — you had to wash the shirt so now it didn’t smell like him now.

You come out into the living room, hopping onto your couch and flipping on the TV, looking for something to watch. And then you hear the bathroom door, glancing behind you, “Done?”

“Yeah, thank you again for this,” he shifts in place, steam escaping from the bathroom behind him, his bangs still a little damp and cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink along his cheekbones, “what are you doing?”

“Just looking for something to watch,” and he comes over, sitting on the other side of the couch, “do you have any preference?”

He shakes his head, “No, not really,” and you choose a random movie to put on, a cheesy rom-com that had just come out on a streaming service, “is that what you like to watch?”

You shrug, running your fingers through your hair, “I like watching bad movies — it’s something I do usually while I do my work — the genius is, I don’t have to pay attention to follow the storyline,” and your eyes still on the TV, you don’t notice how his eyes linger on your face, a smile pulling on his lips, “now look at this, it’s the classic ‘guy likes girl, but girl is too dense to notice,” you shake your head, “does that even happen in real life?”

And Yuta parts his lips to reply when your phone rings, and you grab your phone — a video call — Suguru’s name flashing on your screen, and you can’t bite back the smile on your lips, “Hold on, I have to take this — just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be in the bedroom,”

You head into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, as you pick up the call, “Hey stranger,” you smile as his face comes into view, glasses perched on his nose, as he grins back at you, “I miss you,”

“I miss you too,” he rests his face against his hand, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk much — there have been a lot of issues popping up because its the first week — a lot of department requests from professors and students alike,”

“Mr. Bigshot Department Head has forgotten about his girlfriend, huh?” you mock pout, and he shakes his head, a longing gaze that makes your breath stutter in your chest.

“I could never forget you — how can I when all I dream about is you?” and you bite your lip, cheeks burning, “did I make you smile?”

“Shut up,” and he laughs, and then you hear a noise from the living room, a clatter that catches your attention.

“What was that?”

You wave him off, “It was just my friend, he’s staying over because of the rain — he’s in the living room,”

And he pauses for a moment, expression unreadable, “Which friend?”

“His name is Yuta — I met him during my first student government meeting — he’s kind of showing me the ropes,” and he nods, his silence palpable, gaze downwards and then it dawns on you, “Are you jealous?”

And his eyes flicker up, “Sweetheart—”

“Oh my god you are, that’s so cute,” you smile, as you delight in the slight dusting of pink that settles over his cheeks — he’s far too pretty for his own good, and your voice softens, “you have nothing to worry about, Suguru — I love you, no one else can even compete,”

He sighs, and you wish you could kiss him, “I know, I know — I’m just,” his brow furrows, his lips stuck in a frown, “I just miss you,”

“Then come over,” you tease, and he gives a small smile.

“You have company,” he reminds you, and you sigh, glancing at the door, “you should go back,”

“I’ll work on inventing an instant teleportation device,” a forced laugh leaves his lips, “Suguru, are you sure—”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine, really, just call me before bed if you have time okay?”

“Yeah of course, I love you,” a genuine smile gracing his lips.

“I love you too,” and you hang up, heading back out to find Yuta watching TV, “sorry about that,”

“It’s fine, is everything okay?” he glances at you, tilting his head, “nothing wrong?”

You shake your head, sitting down beside him, grabbing a cushion to place in your arms, “It was just my boyfriend — he usually calls me around this time,”

Yuta gives a slight nod, “Oh, is he away this weekend?”

“No, we’re long distance — he lives in Kyoto,” you explain, sighing, leaning back on the couch, “that’s why I took the call, otherwise, I would have called whoever back,”

“You don’t have to do that — you should be allowed to do whatever you need to. It’s your home,” and you smile, shaking your head before you toss the pillow at him, “w-what?”

“You’re important too, Yuta — you’re my friend and a guest — I’m not going to just leave you out here by yourself without saying anything,” you hold your hand out, “can I have the remote?” And he passes it to you, fingers brushing, as you flip through more movies and TV, “are you tired at all?”

His gaze stays straight ahead, as he shakes his head, “No, not yet,” and you’re choosing a movie to watch, his fingers clasped over each other — the warmth of your touch still lingering.

And you had no idea that his heart was aching at the thought of you being taken — much like the very someone who had taken you.

~~~

“I understand, Suguru, really I do,” and you did — you always did — but this time, it was a little hard to swallow.

It had been weeks since the two of you had seen each other, not over a screen. It was already a month and half into the new semester — and each time he was supposed to visit you, something or another came up — a faculty event, a staff meeting, grading to do, and god knows what else.

And you could bear it the other times — it wasn’t his fault. He had work to do. He had things he had to take care of with little choice in the matter. And you couldn’t always come to Kyoto either — not with your program in full gear and events for the student government around the corner.

No it wasn’t his fault — but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt — especially with what he was missing.

“I really tried to get time off — and I probably still can make it, but I might run late—“ Suguru’s sighing on the phone, and you know his brow is knit together — mind desperately trying to grasp at a solution, as if he thought hard enough one would emerge that he hadn’t considered.

Your footsteps pause, as you bite back your own sigh, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s okay, really — we can celebrate my birthday the next time—“

“It’s not okay, sweetheart,” he cuts you off, “I’m really going to try to make it. I’ll get my work done, or put it off—“

“I don’t want you jeopardizing work—“

“I’ll be fine, Princess — I want to be with you,” he says so softly that your refusals all but melt, “really, I do,”

You bite your lip, as you continue to make your way, weaving between the students herding towards their next classes, “Okay I just don’t want you stressing out or worrying—“

“I’ll be fine, just, make any plans you want to, okay? I don’t know what time I’ll get there on Saturday, but I’ll be there, okay?”

“You really don’t—“ you’re outside the room for your meeting, leaning against the wall.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, and your lips curl, fully submitting to his whims.

“You really don’t — know what time you’re getting here?” You nailed that — apparently not by his chuckle over the line, as you hear the tapping of his laptop as he checks train times.

He pauses, a rustling of papers, and a sigh, “I’m not sure, but once I’m on my way, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fine,” you give a half hearted smile despite the fact no one would see it, “I’m outside my student government meeting, but I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“Of course, good luck with your meeting, and I’ll call you around 8:00 PM?” And the two of you hang up and you’re left with disappointment hanging mid air — like a mystery waiting to be solved, wondering if you’ll be satisfied or saddened.

“What’s wrong?” your gaze snaps up to find Yuta, who offers a small smile, “are you disappointed that our meeting never starts on time? Because you should give up on that now,” you roll your eyes, as he holds the door open for you, and you step past him.

“It’s nothing,” you set your things down, sitting, as he takes his own seat beside you.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Yuta tilts his head, leaning on his arm, a hint of concern across his features in his slightly furrowed brow and pursed lips, “you don’t have to talk about it — but if you want to, I’m here,”

You lean back in your chair, “It’s just my boyfriend — he’s been really busy with work so we haven’t been able to see each other, and now…” your gaze fixes itself to the table in front of you, taking in the faint scratches on the laminate wood, a sigh caught in the back of your throat, “he’s not sure if he’ll make it this weekend for my birthday, he said he would try his best,” and you shake your head, “and I know it’s a little…childish, but—”

“It’s not childish,” he gently cuts you off, “it’s understandable to want to spend your birthday with the person you love,” he leans forward to meet your eyes, “how about this? We can hang out on your birthday until your boyfriend comes down, because I’m sure he will,”

“How do you know?” and other people begin to file into the room, as he offers you a small smile.

“Who would ever keep you waiting?”

~~~~

“You don’t usually call at this time,” you yawn, rolling over in bed, as you hear Suguru rustle on the other end too — it was already late and you had already buried yourself under your comforter, scrolling on your phone before bed (even though you knew very well that you shouldn’t).

“Sorry did I wake you, sweetheart?” and you hum.

“What do I get if you did?” he laughs, his voice making your heart flutter in two seconds flat, “my sleep comes at a very high price, Professor,”

“Oh I know, I’ve paid that price several times, and you have willingly given it to me as well,” your lips curling, you knew he was lying on his back as he always did before bed, arm under his head as he looked up at his ceiling, “what’s the price this time?”

“Video call me,” and he does in an instant, his face popping up on your screen, lips quirked upwards at the sight of your face, glasses perched on his nose.

“Such an easy price this time,” and you yawn, turning over in bed onto your side, hiding your pout in your pillow — god, you wished he was beside you right now.

“The late hour’s making me soft,” you say, a strand of black falling in front of his face, and you only wish you could reach over and run your fingers through his silky strands, “did you need something?”

“I need someone,” and you snort.

“Well, you have me, congratulations,” you turn over onto your back, “now what do you plan to do with me?”

He smiles that same smile that had stolen your heart from the start, “Treasure you? Kiss you? Love you?” and your lips curl again, “apparently get a poodle and a dozen cats with you,”

“That’s a guarantee,” and he smiles.

“If it will make you happy, then yes it is,” you purse your lips, “what?”

“What’s gotten into you?” And his eyes seem to flicker elsewhere for a moment, “Suguru?”

His lips form a full smile, “Happy birthday, princess,” and you blink, glancing at the clock and realizing it was midnight now, “each and every day with you in my life has been the happiest I have ever been and ever hoped to be. I spent my life searching for the meaning of life — but I didn’t find it, until I met you,” his voice is soft as tears burn at the corner of your eyes, “I don’t know what it is that I’m owed — but I don’t know what I did to deserve you,”

“I love you,” you whisper, “I wish I could hold you,” your fingers caress the screen, as if your touch could teach through it, and he presses a kiss to his hand.

“I love you too — and I promise I’ll hold you soon,” he lays back on his bed, “you’ll be sick of me soon enough,”

“Never,” you settle onto your pillow, “will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?”

He only smiles, “Anything for you.”

~~~

Anything but being able to be here by lunch or dinner at this rate. You checked your phone — only to find his last message — “I’m almost done. I’ll let you know when I leave for the station,”

But it had been over two hours and there had been no update — even after you had texted him twice to ask where he was. You were caught between worry and disappointment — anxiety pricking at your skin, enough to annoy but not enough to pierce through to full panic. And disappointment felt like a weight that hovered above your heart, close enough to feel, but not enough to hit yet.

You didn’t want to feel this. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that he was trying — and you didn’t resent him in the least for it. But that didn’t mean you wanted him here any less — especially after it had been almost two months without seeing each other.

And a knock at your door made your eyes snap over, as you tripped over yourself to get to the door, “Who is it?”

“It’s me—“ but it wasn’t Suguru — it was Yuta. And you opened the door, a small smile on your lips, as Yuta stood in a black sweater tucked into dark gray jeans, and a deep maroon jacket pulled over it, “happy birthday,”

“Oh, thanks—“ and you blink, “oh my god, we had plans I’m sorry — I forgot,” you groan, and he leans sideways to take a look at your apartment, spotting the blanket on your couch and a pillow.

“Did I interrupt your date with your couch?” you roll your eyes.

“You did actually, it was a good one too—“ he cuts you off with a look, “I don’t know if I really want to go out. I was thinking I’d just—“

“What? Sit here and become one with your couch?” he raises an eyebrow.

You pout, “Yuta, I don’t know. I think I rather stay home—“

And that’s what you had done all day — Suguru had checked in here and there — trying desperately to finish up work to make it for some part of your birthday but hadn’t checked in for two hours now. You were sure he was going to be on his way soon — but that didn’t make waiting any less depressing. Your phone even had sighed at you as you checked your messages for the millionth time to find no new ones — low battery life only taunting you in return.

“That’s what you’ve done all day — I’m sure your boyfriend would want you to go out and have fun—“ he crosses his arms in front of your doorway, “come on, we can just go watch a movie, no big deal — we can have some fun and kill a few hours, okay?”

And you stare at your phone again, before locking it — “let’s go,”

~~~~

Finally, Suguru sat down right as the train began to roll forward — he had barely made it. The meetings stacked up the day before had put far behind on his grading — he nearly couldn’t make it.

Not if he hadn’t stayed up until 3:00 AM.

He checked his phone — he should make it by 5:00 PM, which should leave plenty of time for dinner and he checked his bag for your gift — it was just what you wanted — a necklace you had pointed out to him, a dragon with multi-colored gems. He laid against the seat, his forehead leaning against the cool glass.

God, he missed you.

It had been too long. Since he had even seen your face not through his phone screen and heard your voice whisper in his ear not through his cellphone. But that’s all he saw and heard of you lately.

He didn’t know the department would be this much of a mess when he took over. The last department head was truly enjoying his retirement months before it began. It was enough he had his department head duties but to teach two classes on top of that was enough for work to pile up until it was untenable. And he was unavailable.

How many times had he fallen asleep on the phone with you? How many times had he canceled plans to come see you? How many times had he missed dates?

And how many more would there be?

He knew you said everything was fine, he knew you understood his circumstance, he knew it wouldn’t be forever — but still — he wrung his fingers in his lap — why did it feel like it already had been forever? Since he had seen you smile, seen you laugh, held your hand, kissed your lips — it felt as if you were disappearing from his grasp.

But he wouldn’t let it happen — he couldn’t.

~~~

“Please turn your cellphone off and place it in these bags before entering the movie,” the ticket attendant told you and Yuta as he handed you both your tickets for something called, Human Earthworm 4, handing you both phone pouches.

You knit your brow together, “But—”

“This is an early screening of the movie, so the staff has been told that all persons seeing this movie today must lock their phones in these pouches before entering the theater,” the attendant explains, gesturing to the cardboard cutout of the movie with a sign that said ‘early screening’ in bold letters, “otherwise you could exchange your tickets for a different movie,” you purse your lips — you had been looking forward to seeing this movie, especially early. And Yuta had even bought the tickets ahead of time after hearing you talk about it at one of the student government meetings.

Yuta’s eyes slide to you, “We can see another—”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, giving a small smile, “Let me just send a quick text,” you step away for a moment, texting Suguru — I’m going into a movie, I have to turn off my phone. Let me know when you’re on the train.

You lock your phone with a sigh, placing it in the bag — either way, he hadn’t texted, so you were sure he wasn’t on the train yet. And you weren’t sure if he would even make it. It was fine — you glanced at Yuta, walking over to the movie theater — it really was.

Because it wouldn’t be forever.

~~~~

The screech of the train jerks Suguru awake, his eyes burning, as he glances out the window — the sun beginning to give up the sky already, starting its descent. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand as he checks the time — fuck, it had been an hour already. He leans back, glancing through his notifications and he sees a text from you.

Fuck, he had forgotten to respond to your messages earlier. He was a mess trying to get to the station, a flurry of papers, caffeine, and adrenaline — and he had spotted your messages before he left the office, only to make a mental note to reply once he was on the train. Where that note had been left in the recesses of his mind he could only guess.

He types: I’m so sorry, sweetheart — in my rush to get here, I didn’t let you know — I’m on the train already—

And then he pauses, he could surprise you — at your apartment. You’d be home after about an hour it seemed by the time he got to your place — it was perfect. He could pick up your cake (the one he had pre-ordered) and set everything up just in time — and then he could take you out for the dinner he had promised you.

He deletes the text, rewriting it — I’m so sorry sweetheart. I just finished work. I should be there by 7:00 PM. I love you. I’ll see you soon, birthday girl.

He sends the message, a smile on his lips — maybe there was something special he could do today, as he watches the train continue on its way.

He only hoped it would work out in his favor.

~~~

“It was perfect — the metaphor? Did you not see the metaphor?” Yuta nodding along to your rant as the two of you make it back to your apartment, “I know it seems like a dumb movie but if you read between the lines—” and you glance at Yuta, who continues to nod, and you stare, “you hated the movie, didn’t you?”

“No, no, I didn’t—” and then you raise an eyebrow, “it was really bad — have you seen good movies before?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “There’s no accounting for taste,”

“Clearly,” he replies, and you push him playfully, crossing your arms, as he grins back at you, “well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, that’s the important part,”

“And you got to bully me about my movie taste so that’s a lovely end to the evening,” he snorts, as the two of you make it outside your apartment door, “thanks for dragging me out — it was really nice,” you dig in your bag for your keys, “it was fun,”

“I’m glad I could help — I hope I made your day a little better,”

“You already do that by just being you, Yuta,” you pull your keys out, your phone slipping out with it — “shoot,” you kneel down and Yuta does too, fingers brushing as you pick it up — as your phone springs back to life, “shit, I guess i forgot to turn it back on,” as you rise, beginning to unlock your door as your texts start to come through — and you blink, right as you turn the knob, slowly reading the first message as you open the door only spotting Suguru’s back through the crack in the door.

Fuck. And you quickly shut the door.

“You okay?” Your eyes flicker up, forcing a small smile, as Yuta tilts his head.

“Yeah, sorry — my boyfriend is inside I think,” your mind in a dizzying panic, “I should go talk to him, alone,” you shift from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward — but it seems to work, as Yuta nods.

“Right, of course, I”ll go,” he bites his lip, “let me know if you need anything ok?” And he’s gone, as you turn back around, taking a beat, before you open the door.

“Surprise?” you say, and Suguru is holding a cake with lit candles, lights dimmed, a small smile on his lips.

“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” he frowns at the expression on your face, “what’s—” and you shake your head, walking over.

“We’ll talk about that later,” you stand in front of him and your cake, “All I want to focus on is you and my cake,” and your lips curl, “and I believe I’m owed a song?”

“Happy birthday to you,” he sings softly, jawline illuminated by the low light of the candle, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, my dear sweetheart,” and you bite back a grin, “Happy birthday to you,” he holds the cake up a little higher, “make a wish,”

You hum, “I don’t know what to wish for,” you blow out your candles, before taking the cake from his hands and placing it down before slipping into his arms, “I have everything I want right here.”

~~~

Suguru had almost gotten it right. Almost.

“Yuta almost saw you earlier,” you admit, “he didn’t, I realized before and made an excuse but,” you sigh, as the two of you sit on the couch, your fork toying with your slice of cake, “it was close,”

Close. Close to revealing your relationship. Lose to jeopardizing your future. Close to ruining your friendship. It was far too close — or was he far too close to you?

His brow knit together, “I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have let myself in and I should have texted earlier—“

“It’s not your fault, Suguru, it’s fine,” you offer a smile, “I don’t even mind if Yuta knows — he’s a good friend,”

“But still—“ you drag a finger through frosting and place a dollop on his nose, “sweetheart—“

“Let’s not focus on that right now. This is the first time I got to see you in weeks,” you lean over and lick the frosting from the tip of his nose, a warmth spreading across his face from your touch, “I want to enjoy the rest of my birthday with my boyfriend, okay?”

But he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away — not now.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips — it had been far too long since he had felt the soft press of your lips against his own. He could taste the frosting, the sickly sweetness didn’t begin to compare to your taste, and how much he had ached for it.

But it also didn’t stop him from dragging a finger dipped in frosting across your cheek.

“Suguru!” You gape at him, looking utterly too adorable with your pout and the frosting across your cheek, “on my birthday too?”

“Well, you’re so sweet, I wanted to see if it was possible for you to be even sweeter,” and he leans over licking the frosting from your cheek, “looks like it’s not possible—“ and you swallow his sentence with a kiss, as your plate and fork clatter as you set it down on your coffee table, climbing into his lap, your knees on either side, “our reservation — we’ll be late,” even so his hands drag down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I think I want dessert first,” you murmur, before finding his lips in a kiss again.

It’s hours later, and you’re fast asleep beside him, your face buried against the crook of his neck, as Suguru runs his fingers through your hair. But he can’t sleep. Not when he keeps thinking about what you said.

You didn’t deserve this. To spend days waiting for your boyfriend to be free, to spend your time wondering when he would be able to call you, to spend your time stressed out at the idea of getting caught. A relationship should be easier, it should be fun — but you haven’t had either since he had to move.

His fingers brushes against the curve of your cheek and then tracing the chain of the necklace, thumbing the dragon charm. He loves you — he loves you, but was it enough when you deserved so much more? How many more things would he miss because of work? How many more things would you hide because you didn’t want him to feel guilty? How many more times would he let you?

He had felt you slipping from his fingers these last few weeks — he presses a kiss to your forehead — but he had never considered whether he should let you go.

Until now.

~~~

Can we call tonight? I miss you.

Suguru glances at his phone, students already filed in and sitting, the quiet chatter before class began. It had been like this for a week. He locked his phone, tucking it away in his pockets.

“If you all will sit and settle down, we’ll begin today’s lecture,” he says to the class, “we’re going to continue our discussion from last class on Scanlon — we’ll start with any questions left from our conversation,”

Several hands fly up, and he chooses one to speak, “I had a question,”

He blinks, spotting you amongst his students, “What are you—“

“Professor, you haven’t let me ask my question,” you pout, as you lean against the desk, arms crossed, “I need to understand the material to pass, don’t I?”

All replies get stuck in his throat — as words fail him, as they always did with you. He’s only able to nod. And you smile, lips curling wide.

“Scanlon posits the question “what do we owe to each other?’ But there is no one answer — we are meant to figure that on our own,” you lean back in your chair, “and I believe I’m owed at least a text back,”

The students’ quiet murmurings and piercing stares drawing heat up his neck, and you were the one who lit the match, flames licking at your heels.

“Sweetheart—“

“Do you get to call me that after how you’ve treated me?” you scoff, as you slide from your chair onto your feet, “no visit in weeks, barely any phone calls, and once we even got on the phone, you would fall asleep. Have you asked how I’ve been? How have I dealt with all of this? Do you even know how my semester is going?”

His mouth is a desert, and his words have all but deserted him — as he fumbles for any syllables he could grasp onto, but finds none. Because he has no excuses to be made.

You walk down the stairs of the lecture hall, as the slow steps you take ring in his ears, “do you know what I’m risking? My reputation, my career, my future — for what? For you? I know my answer to what I want in life. I know my answer is you — can you say the same?”

And the class is gone — and it’s only the two of you.

“I’d do anything for you, I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to. I—“ his voice breaks, and your hand finds his cheek, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Except let me go, apparently.”

RING. RING. RING.

His eyes flutter open, a breath caught in his throat, as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before reaching blindly for his phone. He glanced at the screen now, turning off the alarm, spotting a text from you at the top.

Morning Sugu — I miss you <3, can we call tonight?

And he stares at your message before locking his screen and placing his phone down and turning around.

He needed to talk to you.

~~~~

“You’ve checked your phone like for the millionth and one time,” your eyes find Yuta’s as the two of you continue to put up flyers for the student government hosted dinner later in the week, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” and he stares at you, “what?” And then you sigh, “my boyfriend — it just feels like he’s been avoiding me, and I don’t know why,”

“Have you asked him why?” He holds a flier and tapes it a bulletin board outside, and you shake your head, “maybe you should try,”

“I want to, I just never get a chance to — he’s been so busy with work and I haven’t—“ and you sigh — it had been over a week since you and Suguru had even spoken on the phone, much less even video called, “I feel like something’s wrong — something is bothering him,” your voice falters, as you swallow your emotions, a sigh on your lips, “I don’t know,”

Yuta takes a pause, stealing a glance at you, before he turns to look, “You’ll only know if you ask — and the longer you wait, the harder it will be to be honest,” he glances away, “trust me,”

You crumple the flier in your hand, squeezing, “I’m just scared of the answer,” you admit. It had been so difficult to get to this point — tears roll down your cheeks — to see Suguru slip away because of this would be too much.

“I know,” Yuta says softly, as he gently places his hand on your shoulder, “but you still need it regardless,”

And then you hear a voice call your name, and you wipe your tears hurriedly as Yuta pulls his hand away, your gaze snapping over to see Professor Yaga and—

Suguru?

~~~

“Look who’s here for a meeting,” Yaga says, clapping a hand to Suguru’s shoulder, “did you hear that Professor Geto had become department head of the Kyoto sister university?”

And Suguru knew you very well had — but you hadn’t heard he’d come here for a meeting. To be fair, he didn’t know until this morning — but to be even more fair, he had plenty of time to tell you. But he didn’t — because he was hoping he wouldn’t see you, not like this.

“I did,” you force a smile, “it’s good to see you, Professor Geto, how have you been?”

You’re a natural at acting as if nothing is the matter — but he’s become a master at seeing right through it. He spotted the way your fingers wiped away your tears, your red rimmed eyes, and the plastered on smile that was nearly pulling into a frown. He resisted the urge to purse his lips — he had wondered for a split second what had made you cry? Until he saw the flicker of a glare in your gaze, and he knew he was the reason.

And it was yet another reason he needed to end this.

And this — Suguru’s eyes flicker between you and your friend — was the friend he assumed was Yuta, his brow knit in confusion, “I’ve been well — it’s good to see you, I hope the semester has gone well for you?”

You shrug, your expression unreadable, “Well enough, you know how the semester goes — it’s very busy around this time. Easy for things to slip through the cracks,” and he forces his gaze to not waver.

“Very true, it’s important to keep on top of things,”

“Especially the important things,” you give both him and Professor Yaga a stiff smile, “It’s good to see you both, but we have more flyers to hang up for the event coming up later this week,” you take Yuta’s hand, “if you’ll excuse us,” and the two of you disappear off around the corner.

“It was good to see her, wasn’t it?” Professor Yaga says, a smile on his lips, “she’s come a long way after your class — she was already an excellent student, but now, I see even brighter things on her horizon,” as he continues to walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, and Suguru spares a single glance over his shoulder, before pulling out his phone and texting you:

Can we talk later? I’ll let you know where.

“It was.”

~~~~

“Old habits die hard?” you sat on Suguru’s old desk as he walked in, your arms crossed in front of you. And Suguru tilts his head, closing the door behind him.

“Did something happen in this room?” and you roll your eyes, as he steps forward, “ah, yes, you’re referring to your grades right?”

“Yes, my grades — I’m still upset about that 99,” but the playfulness all but dies on your lips as he draws close, your eyes unable to meet his gaze, as if you would see some truth you weren’t ready to uncover, “Suguru, what’s going on?”

“Sweetheart—”

“You’ve been distant since my birthday, avoiding calling me, you barely text me — and today, you didn’t even tell me you were in Tokyo,” your voice breaks — even if you had thought what you wanted to say to him a million times today — it didn’t make it any easier, “are you upset with me?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he’s shaking his head, as he cups your cheeks, “you didn’t do anything except be completely wonderful,” he swallows, voice catching, as he seems to struggle with his words, “and that’s why I have to let you go,”

The sentence repeats in your mind over and over — and you still can’t make sense of it. No, no, it didn’t make sense. Why would he want to break up?

One word was all you could manage to respond with — “What?”

“Sweetheart, you deserve someone who can be there for you, someone who will be there with you when you need them, who will call you, prioritize you, give you all of their energy — and with this distance—”

“We can make it work—” and you know you’re crying now, tears rolling down his knuckles, filling the chasm he’s making between the two of you.

He’s running his fingers through his hair, “You’re making this work — I’m trying too but I haven’t been able to visit you, I haven’t been able to see you or talk to you properly in weeks—”

“It’s not forever, it won’t be like this. I’m almost done with my degree, I can move down to Kyoto—”

“And I don’t want you to limit your options because of me and my career,” he cuts you off gently, as his thumb rubs back and forth, wiping your tears away, “you have such a wonderful future ahead of you — whether you decide to pursue a Ph.D. or a lecturer position or whatever else — I want you to make that decision without my presence being a factor—”

“But—” and he’s pressing his lips to you softly, it’s gentle and sweet — his hands holding you as if you would break apart in his fingers before him, as his lips finally part yours “Suguru, I know what I’m doing—”

“I know, but so do I,” he murmurs, as he begins to step away from you, his warmth leaving your body, “if it’s easier for you to hate me, hate me — if it’s easier to be indifferent, be indifferent — I just can’t hold you back, sweetheart. I can’t do that to you — whether it’s professionally or personally,”

“Suguru, you’re not letting me have a say in this,” and he takes your hands, lacing your fingers together, “I want this, I know it’s been hard, but don’t you want this too?”

“I do — I love you, but that’s why I can’t do that to you. I want you to be happy—”

“Even if it comes at the cost of your own happiness?” you scoff, “Are you subscribing to utilitarianism? Are you okay being a happiness pump?” Your fingers try to find purchase on his cheek, but he pulls away, hands falling away from yours.

“I am, if it means you’re happy, then I am,” Suguru whispers, glancing away from him, “it’s not worth the risk,”

Your words are quiet, as you swallow your tears, and you force your voice to be steady, “You’re making this about me — when it’s about you too,” you brush past him, “I didn’t expect you to be a coward, Suguru, but I suppose, I got the answer I deserve.”

And the door shuts behind you, tears burning as you walk off — and you know that he wouldn’t follow.

But you still hoped he would.

~~~

Suguru stands by the window, watching students file in and out of the building.

It was the right thing to do. That’s what he kept telling himself — over and over and over. But if it was so right, then why did he feel wrong? Wrong for breaking your heart. Wrong for letting you wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He spent his time debating amongst others what right and wrong really was, but he always knew there would never be an answer.

And then he spots you leaving the building, before you bump into someone who stops you, your head down, but it doesn’t work, as the person pulls you into a hug. And he knew who it was — it was that student from earlier — Yuta. He had seen the way he looked at you — the same softness that Suguru had recognized because he saw it in himself.

He knew you deserved better, just because you were his answer —- he watched you sink into Yuta’s arms — doesn’t mean he was yours.

✧ a/n: ahhh the anticipated fourth part!! there’s gonna be one more part of the main series and then it’s onto extra credit fics :). Don’t worry it will be a happy ending!! I promise!

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot t, @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries ,

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