Latest Posts by that-jax - Page 5

Cyno, Diluc, Al haitham, Itto y Ayato

By ngkhyn

A Good Nights Rest

word count: 785

genre: fluff, slice of life

pairings: Ayato x gn! reader

warnings: none

additional notes: here’s the first of m a n y Ayato oneshots, I love him so much so I will definitely write abt him a lot. If you have any suggestions or you have anything you would like me to write don't be afraid to send me an ask !!

Want to be tagged in my works click here

   The pink and oranges that paint the sky fade into the purple of the nation of eternity. The fan you hold hides the bottom half of your face, leaving those around you to have to guess what you are thinking. As you walk through the main square of Inazuma, you catch sight of a specific stand that holds your lover's favorite drink. 

   You take a slight detour from your previous destination, heading toward the stand you and your husband frequent. The stand owner recognizes you almost immediately, giving you a smile before making your order. You make small talk as he does, before placing the correct amount of mora on the table. Grabbing the drinks, you send the stand owner one last smile. 

   You walk your way through Inazuma, toward the Estate you had been away from the entire day. The sky has darkened at this point, fireflies starting to light the way along with the many glowing plants that populate the nation. You enjoy the scenery as you walk, allowing you to mentally plan an outing for you and your husband. The gates and guards of the Kamisato estate slowly become visible, causing you to speed up a little. 

   You pass the guards with a tilt of the head, allowing a smile to stretch your lips. You haven’t seen your husband all day, and you were craving the warmth he holds. The door to the estate is quickly pulled open as you approach, Thoma standing there with his usual smile. 

   “Good evening! How was your day in the city,” he questions, continuing to sweep the entranceway as you chat. “My day was good Thoma, there should be a few things that are shipped here tomorrow so please be on the lookout for that.” “Of course!” “Also, after you finish sweeping the entryway, you are excused for the night. I can take care of Lord Kamisato from here,” You send him a charming smile. 

   He nods and smiles at you as well. You quickly toe your shoes off then continue your way through the maze of an estate. The door to your lover’s office finally comes into view, it has probably only been opened a few times for Thoma to drop off tea or a meal for him. You quickly maneuver the drinks in your hands to make it possible to open the door.

   The opening of the door doesn’t alert your husband of your entrance and neither does the placing of the drinks on the desk. You walk behind him, quickly lacing your arms over his shoulders from behind, surprising him enough to quickly whip his head toward your own. Once he sees you, his once tense shoulders soften, a charming smile curving his lips upward. The mole underneath his lower lip moving with the curve of his lip, making the smile all the more gorgeous. 

   He notices the staring and his once charming smile quickly shifts into a sly smirk. He raises his head a little, his nose brushing against yours causing your face to flush the slightest bit. Even after being married to the man, the smallest things he does still affect you. Your own smile doesn’t dim in the slightest while you lean in the final inch to connect your lips. 

   The feeling of what could be compared to butterflies erupts in your stomach as he tilts his head a little. Your eyes flutter close as the kiss continues. He leans back slightly before laying his forehead against yours. He chuckles slightly as your eyes open to meet with his icy ones. “Welcome home honey,” his smile stays in place as he says these words. “It is late, you should continue on your way to our chambers to get the optimal amount of sleep.” He places a chaste peck to your cheek before turning to continue his work. 

   You sigh slightly, making Ayato shiver slightly at the sensation, before your hand grips his chin. His wide eyes meet your calm ones as you turn his head toward you, “as you said sweetheart, we should continue to our chamber to get the optimal amount of sleep.” The emotion behind your eyes glints playfully as you slowly start to remove yourself from him. 

   “It has been so long since I've fallen asleep beside my husband, I do hope he knows what he’s doing my heart,” you tease, walking away from him and toward the door. He chuckles while watching you disappear into the hallway, before grabbing another document to scan over in the candlelight. Your head pops up from behind the door and he looks up to find you smirking at him. 

   “Come on casanova, it's time for you to go to sleep.”

taglist:

Injury

word count: 672

genre: fluff, slight angst(?)

pairings: diluc x gn! reader (M’lady is used once)

warnings: blood, depictions of a wound

additional notes: here's some more Diluc, I promise I am working on some other characters. If you have any suggestions or you have anything you would like me to write don't be afraid to send me an ask !!

Want to be tagged in my works click here

   The sun was starting to dip past the horizon as you made your way through the trellises in front of the winery. The day had been long and hard, fighting hilichurls until late this evening. The feeling of bruises starting to form and the pains of fighting are starting to settle in, the adrenaline finally starting to wear off. As you move to open the front door a stinging sensation lights up your entire left arm.

   Looking to your left arm you notice the blood flowing from your shoulder. You take a second to process the fact that you were bleeding from a wound in your shoulder you hadn’t felt before now. Opening the door with your other arm, you swiftly walk into the winery and apply pressure to the wound as soon as you let go of the door.

   You walk toward your shared bedroom and catch sight of Adelinde, when she turns to greet you she gasps and takes half a step back. “M’lady-” she says panicked, heading toward you to inspect the wound “-are you okay?” You nod with a slight smile on your face, “yes, I am okay. Would you be able to send some bandages and such to our bathroom, I would like to deal with the wound before Diluc arrives.”

   She nods her head and moves to start gathering the materials. As she does that, you walk the rest of the way toward your room. You head straight to the bathroom from there, looking in the mirror to assess how bad the wound is. You remove your shirt, staring at the wound closer, before hearing the door open.

   You look up in the mirror expecting Adelinde before catching sight of Diluc standing behind you, holding the materials to clean and dress your wound. You turn to him before looking away when he starts walking closer. He sets everything down before wetting a rag and starting to clean around your wound.

   “Diluc, you don’t have to do this love. You have probably had a long da-” he cuts you off “- my dear, I would do this a million times over just to make sure you are alright.” He looks up at you to make sure he isn’t hurting you with what he is doing. When you make eye contact he sends you a small smile to which you send one back in return.

   As he continues to clean and dress your wound, you raise your uninjured arm and place it on the side of his face, running your thumb on his cheek. He leans into your touch while he puts the finishing touches on the dressing. Once he’s done, he stands to his full height and looks back at your face. “What happened to cause such a wound dear,” he asks. You walk out of the bathroom with him following, sitting on the bed while he starts to change from the day.

   “To be honest with you, I didn’t feel the wound until I was going to open the front door. I assume it happened sometime today while clearing camps.” You look at him as he pulls his night shirt on, looking towards you as he pulls another from his closet and motions for you to change into it. You happily do so before turning around to face him. “I never got to say it, but welcome home love.”

   He smiles at you and takes a step forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. You follow his lead by placing one hand on his nape and the other on his shoulder. He leans forward and you meet him halfway, noses brushing as lips meet. The smell of oak and smoke enveloped you, along with the warmth of the man in front of you.

   He pulls back slightly before leaning in again for a quick peck, resting your foreheads together afterward. His hand had moved to rest on the back of your head and yours had moved to pull the tie from his hair. “Thank you, my dear.”

taglist:

Late Nights

word count: 656

genre: fluff, slice of life

pairings: diluc x gn! reader

warnings: none

additional notes: this is my first post so please be easy on me lmao

Want to be tagged in my works click here

   The cool evening air felt good against your skin as you walked through Mondstat. The day was long, spent outside the walls running commissions and fighting different camps. All of the running around left no time for your usual stop in with your lover around noon.

   Angel’s Share is quiet when you enter, only the noise of glasses clinking every once in a while. You take a quick glance around until your eyes land on the red of Diluc’s hair. He stands tall behind the counter, his usual jacket thrown on one of the bar stools and his sleeves are rolled to above his elbow.

   “Angel’s Share isn-” He looks up “- [Name], hello dear.” He sends you a small smile as you step towards him, turning around to grab a glass for you. You observe him as he does so, noting how his ponytail has fallen since this morning, and how tense his shoulders seem even though it is just the two of you.

   He places a glass filled with grape juice, his special blend, in front of you as you sit down. You grab the glass and take a sip, savoring the taste as he continues his routine cleaning. You watch him for a moment, appreciating how calm he stands when in only your presence. “How was your day love,” you ask, while leaning your head into one of your palms. Your head tilts towards him as he starts to speak, “it was alright dear. The tavern ran as usual today and, of course, both Kaeya and that pesky Bard were here until I had to kick them out.”

   He made a face at the fact, “My patrol this morning was pretty normal, though there are a few Fatui camps closer to the walls that weren't there before.” He takes a quick glance at your face and sees you looking at him already. When you both made eye contact you shoot him a small smile, though the way you were looking at him was enough for his face to heat a little.

   He placed down the glass he had just finished cleaning and walked closer to you from behind the bar. He grabbed your hand as he got closer and kissed the back, leaving a slight color to your face as well. “And how was your day dear,” he questions.

   He throws the towel to rest over his shoulder and leans forward to rest his forearms on the bar across from you. He watches you as you talk about how busy your day was, apologizing about not being able to stop by earlier that day, to which he shakes his head at.

   He watches the way the low lighting of the tavern makes your skin glow, and how your eyes light up as you speak of a Snapdragon you saw in Springvale that reminded you of him. Diluc continues to admire you, quite obviously, until you notice that he has said nothing to what you are saying.

   You look at him only to notice that his eyes are set on you, and the most serene expression is on his face as he watches you, lost in thought. “Love-” you question, tilting your head slightly “-is there something on my face?” “No dear, I was just enjoying how you looked as you spoke of your day.”

   You turn away blushing, trying to hide your face from his view. He chuckles slightly as he stands to his full height, grabbing your now empty glass to clean it off quickly. You take these few seconds to reign in the color on your face.

   You feel a hand on your lower back, you recognise the feeling of Diluc’s gloves. You look at him to realize he has put his jacket and gloves back on. You stand, pushing in the bar stool you were sat on, and take the arm that he offers you. “Ready to go home my dear?”

taglist: 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ status ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

-> request; open

-> ask box; open

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ about me ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

-> hello !! my name is Jax !

-> they/them

-> 18

-> i write for Genshin, Haikyuu!, Levi, Erwin, Bakugou, Aizawa, Shinsou, and a few more!

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ Genshin Impact ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Diluc

Late Nights Diluc x gn reader

↳ fluff; how the evening ends after a long day

Injury Diluc x gn reader

↳ fluff, slight angst(?); finding you with an injury and helping you

Ayato

A Good Night’s Rest Ayato x gn! reader

↳ fluff, slice of life; finding your husband awake when he’s supposed to be sleeping

I read your recent Levi fic and I absolutely love your writing??? May I request a canon verse Levi fic too? A fic where the reader is Levi's wife and she visits him at the survey corps and a lot of the people are in awe of her and are shocked finding out the husband she's looking for is Levi? Just some funny fluff! Bonus points for the reader being more soft and affectionate in public with him so we have a cute embarrassed Levi LOL tysm!

The Wife

Levi Ackerman x Reader (Mayyybe some Erwin x Reader?)

Summary: : A particularly breathtaking woman has decided to visit, and gossip is strife in the Scouting Legion.

Warnings: SFW / mentions of a miscarriage

Wordcount: 7.1K

Genre: Tooth rotting FLUFF

A/N: EEEKK this took soo long! But thank you for appreciating my scribbles, anon! I try :> Also, I absolutely LIVE for this request, I'm so glad you asked for it <3

Maria's Scribblings MASTERLIST

Depending on who you are, Sundays in the Scouting Legion either meant you get to finally have your once a week visit to go home and see your family, or-- if you’re Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Ymir, Christa, Reiner, and Bertholdt-- you don’t have a family to go home to, and so you get to spend Sundays lazing around and keeping post in the Legion’s base.

But it isn’t all too bad! Sundays can be quite eventful if you’ve got a good eye for entertainment. Because where Eren is glad he’s finally fucking free of that bastard Jean’s neighing, the rest of the newly minted 104th recruits of the Scouting Legion get to keep themselves up to speed in the military’s juicy, juicy gossip.

And if they’re lucky, Sundays would let them see scandal unfold! In fact, Ymir can’t tell you how many stories she’s heard of Officers’ mistresses visiting the compound. Or of Officers whose wives just visited the morning before, visiting their mistresses the afternoon later!

For Commanding Officers specifically, affairs are fairly easy to spot since most of them don’t leave the compound even on Sundays, thanks to their mountains of paperwork. No one’s judging them though; they are only human after all. And there is an understanding amongst Legion soldiers that a few trysts with prostitutes—like Squad Leader Zacharias’ happy excursions with a woman named ‘Babydoll’-- could slide every now and then considering their lifestyle. The job doesn’t exactly allow for many long term attachments.

There’s also the matter of figuring out which soldier is sleeping with who.

Did that Squad Leader’s subordinate just stay in his office all day? Not even coming out once?

Or perhaps, who may be secretly married with kids without telling anyone, including a fellow Scout that they’ve been sleeping with.

Maybe a few civilian girlfriends here and there.

Once, Bertholdt had to gently lead out a weeping woman who’s apparently fallen pregnant, and was telling a Scout that the child was his.

Now, Mikasa didn’t give a rat’s ass about it all.

Eren just does his job with an almost impressive single-mindedness, but he reacts every now and then.

Armin tries not get too caught up in it all, but he often ends up being the one to unravel whatever compelling mystery-scandal they’ve got, because of course he does.

Bertholdt just listens quietly, so quietly you can hear him praying to the goddesses that their superiors don’t catch them. But he’s also the one who would end up telling Connie, Sasha, and Jean everything once they come back the next day.

Reiner gives a snide comment or two, always trying to rationalize things before jumping to conclusions. He’s probably the only person who’s actually actively listening to Ymir.

Christa hisses at Ymir to stop gossiping about their superiors’ sex lives, that it’s not right. All while secretly curious about the gossip, but never admitting to it.

And Ymir? Ymir just laughs at Christa, and proceeds to gossip some more. She loves this shit. Lives for it even.

“Oh loosen up! It’s literally my only form of entertainment these days,” she would say.

But there was one riveting piece of gossip that’s got them all glued to every word Ymir says. Yes, even Mikasa.

“I swear I heard that Captain Levi’s got a secret girlfriend somewhere! A particularly young girlfriend, in fact.”

“We’re all but three weeks in the Scouts and already, you’re starting a smear campaign on the Captain,” Christa admonishes.

“It’s not a smear campaign if it’s true,” Ymir quips back.

"Uh huh, and who’s your ‘reputable’ source this time?” Reiner chimes in, shaking out a fresh load of hay for the horses. The cadets have been tasked to guard the main gate as well as the stables nearby for the day’s expected visitors and soldiers going in and out of the compound.

“I overheard my Squad Leader whisper about it.” Ymir’s smug snicker was all Christa needed to pause what she’s doing.

In fact, it made them all pause. If the Squad Leaders were whispering about it, then it must hold water.

Mikasa was the first to speak, nonchalantly going back to her task, “Well, I wouldn’t put it past an officer who would openly beat up a helpless man on his knees just to prove a point.” Eren responded by muttered that he was fine.

“Right? Besides, Captain Short Stack’s in clear need of a good lay!” Ymir guffawed, piling onto Mikasa’s spite. This time, it was Christa’s turn to chide.

“Don’t talk about the Captain like that! It’s not right, Ymir. We’re going to get into some serious trouble because of this.” And as long as it’s Christa disagreeing with something, you best believe Reiner would take her side straight away.

“Christa’s right,” he says, Ymir rolling her eyes at the way he puffs out his chest in bravado. “There’s no reason for us to gossip like hens. Besides,” Reiner grins mischievously to his friends, “I heard Commander Erwin's wife is coming today.”

“And so?” Bertholdt raises an eyebrow at him.

Reiner takes his closest friend in a clutch around his arm. “And so, I heard she’s a hot piece of ass, Bertie!”

Annoyed, Bertholdt shakes him off. “Call me Bertie one more time, and I’ll tell Jean you’ve been fantasizing over the girls he draws.” A threat which promptly shuts Reiner up with a conceding gesture.

“The Commander’s married?” Christa asks curiously.

“And how hot is the wife exactly?” Eren nudges Reiner. Reiner would’ve given the younger cadet the low down if it weren’t for Mikasa’s death glares trained right on Reiner’s jugular.

“Err… I’ll tell you another time, Eren.”

Waving her hands in the air, Ymir intervenes. “Yeah and who the hell cares about Commander Erwin’s babe of a wife anyways—put your hand down, Reiner.”

“And I thought you were a woman of culture,” Reiner grumbled.

Ignoring the blonde man, Ymir continued excitedly. “The meat gets juicier! Seems like Captain Levi’s young girlfriend was his lieutenant.”

There was a collective gasp.

“No.” It was the first time Armin spoke. Ymir nodded enthusiastically.

“Yup! Before Petra, she was the only girl in the Special Ops Squad. Handpicked by our esteemed Captain, of course.” Ymir looks to her friends conspiratorially, her eyes conveying what was said between the lines.

“A-are you saying she… had an affair with her superior?” Armin could barely say the words. Very dangerous words.

“And it seems like the Captain got his favorite pregnant and so she had to be quietly dismissed and sent away. My Squad Leader even mentioned catching her leaving his office well into the wee hours of the night. Even spotting matching hickeys on them both.” Ymir snorted. “Who would’ve thought, huh? Captain Levi? She must be a fucking bombshell for the Captain to even notice her. Or a saint. Because who the fuck wants to deal with Captain Scrooge McShorty? Never thought I’d see the day when I’d hear a woman is actually interested in that midget. But I suppose a rank adds a few inches, eh?”

All while Ymir was yapping along, the rest of the cadets were quiet.

“…So the Captain has a kid?” Eren could barely wrap his head around what he just heard. It just doesn’t check out to him. Captain Levi, for all his singular tastes and dangerous temper, did not strike Eren as the type to take advantage of his young subordinates.

Ymir frowned. “Well. From what I heard, she miscarried.”

Armin was still, “That’s not why she was sent away w-was she?”

In a snap, Christa shook her head vehemently. “Stop that! How can you say those nasty things about another woman, Ymir?! From what I know, Squad Leader Klaus doesn’t have the best track record either, so who is he to judge?!” Christa’s little face was contorted in loathing now. And she was right. Klaus’s reputation precedes him, and it certainly isn’t a good one.

Mikasa sighs, standing by Christa comfortingly. She was no avid advocate for the Captain, but she can recognize blatant misogyny when she sees it. “True or not, talk like that has no room in our job description. The Captain’s personal affairs is none of our business, and frankly,” Mikasa’s face scrunches up in disgust. “I’d rather not know. Let’s just finish up here before the next wave of visitors arrive.”

It was then that a soldier from outside Legion perimeters hollers to the cadets to open the main gate; a visitor was to stable their horse. Bertholdt and Reiner jog to yank open the gates to let in a rider with a lady riding side-saddle on pillion as his passenger.

A very pregnant lady riding side-saddle on pillion, indeed.

Hurriedly, Reiner helps the woman down the moment he saw her condition, being the biggest of the bunch. Once he sets her down in a graceful sweep, very careful to be gentle, Reiner was immediately struck frozen to his spot.

This very pregnant lady was absolutely gorgeous.

Her beauty was only accentuated by the pretty smile she offered the strong blonde soldier, when she beamed up at him with a, “Thank you, Cadet. Would you terribly mind showing my steward where he can stable the horse, as well as where he can rest with some food and drink?”

While Reiner was slack-jawed and stupid trying to formulate a coherent answer, the woman’s steward dismounted and handed the lady a full-looking wicker basket. Most likely bearing treats and food for whoever she was visiting in the Scouts, judging by the wonderful smell of baked goods coming from it. Quickly, Bertholdt and Eren swoop in.

“I’ll stable the horse for your steward, ma’am. We’ll give him some fresh hay, too,” Bertholdt says, already getting a hold of the horse’s reins. He looks to the steward, “If you’ll just follow me, sir. I’ll show where the refreshments and the nearest inn are after I stable the horse.”

And Eren, also already dumbstruck by their new lovely visitor, immediately offered to carry the woman’s basket for her. With an equally charming smile, she thanks Bertholdt, and gratefully hands Eren the basket—whose face blooms into a blush when she said he was too kind.

“She’s… so beautiful. Like, in an elegant way,” Christa quietly squeaks to Ymir who, just as in awe, distractedly replied with a, “Must be the pregnancy glow hormones.”

But something makes her stop.

The woman had a wedding ring.

This wasn’t just any pretty visitor, this was a very beautiful married woman come to visit the Scouts who—judging by the fine horse and the personal steward—must be connected to somebody high-ranking indeed.

“Psst! Reiner!” Ymir nudges at the still stuttering oaf. Her eyes dart to the lady then back to Reiner.

“That’s the Commander’s wife!”

Before the realization fully sunk into Reiner’s ogling face, Armin and Mikasa quickly jumped into protocol.

“I presume you are here to visit your husband, ma’am?” Mikasa asks courteously.

The woman smiles kindly, “I am.” Already expecting that she would have to be escorted to her husband’s office, immediately follows with, “His office is at the Commander’s Corridor in the North Wing.”

In a wordless look amongst the Cadets, the 104th immediately recognized that this lady was indeed who they thought she was at her reply. After all, who else would she be visiting in the Commander’s Corridor of all places?

“Alright, Cadet Braun and I will just go up to inform him that you’re here so that you won’t have to climb all the way up. We wouldn’t you to strain yourself, ma’am,” Armin says, taking the woman’s pregnancy into consideration. But the woman said otherwise.

“Oh, no need for that! He’s a busy man, I understand. And he probably won’t take kindly to you kids disturbing his work. Besides,” she says with a twinkle on her eye. “I want to surprise my husband, considering he hasn’t seen me in months.” A hand smooths over her large belly, telling the Cadets exactly what she means. At that, Armin and Christa especially smile back at her, saying they completely understand.

“But do allow us to go ahead and alert him that you’re here. It’s protocol, you see,” Armin said apologetically. The woman just nods and says it’s all fine, as Armin taps at Reiner before they begin to jog up to Commander Erwin’s office.

Turning back to the visitor, Mikasa tells her that as is also protocol, the rest of them would have to escort her up; also so that they could assist her in her climb up. Hardworking as always, Eren eagerly nods with the basket in hand; always ready to serve, as the woman agrees. And so, with Mikasa and Eren leading the group, Christa walks by the woman right behind the two, as Ymir walks at the tail-end of the group.

~

As they were walking past the courtyard, Christa looks up to the North Wing—the highest of the livable offices in the base—and then looks worriedly to the woman she and her friends were escorting.

“Ma’am? Are you absolutely sure you can climb up? It’s a lot of stairs to the top of the highest office wing. We wouldn’t want to endanger you.” They’ve reached the bottom of the steps leading up to the Commander’s Corridor, cueing Christa and Ymir to flank the pregnant woman in order to support and assist her up; allowing Christa to hold her hand, while Ymir rest a ready hand at the base of her back.

The woman just laughs indulgently. “Don’t worry Cadet, I’m made of tougher stuff than you think.” She winks at Christa.

“I was once a Scout like you, you know.”

“You were a Scout?!” Ymir gasped in surprise. Mikasa gives her a sharp look for the impolite shock in Ymir’s voice. But the woman didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she humored the question.

“Oh yes, how do you think I met my husband? We were in the same squad when we did,” she smiled.

With wide eyes, Eren swivels and starts going up the steps backwards to exclaim, “Damn, you must be really good!” (An action which Mikasa promptly calls out, jabbing him in the side to make him face front.) For her to be a part of the Commander’s Squad, she must at least be an above average soldier.

The woman just gave a modest shrug, “Well, I was already a veteran when I married. So I suppose I was.”

With thoughtful eyes, Christa asks, “It must have been difficult to leave the Scouts. It’s for a happy occasion of course, but I can’t imagine it was ever easy to readjust to a new life.”

The lady purses her lips playfully, her bright eyes looking up in thought. “Weeell, having to be a Scout is pretty darn difficult, I’d say. Especially when I had to serve at the vanguard before I could become a full-fledged veteran. So setting down a Scout’s mantel was fairly easy.” It was a lighthearted but plainly honest answer. Then her face turned solemn. “But I’d say the hardest part was to leave my husband to it all.”

She looks to the young and curious eyes around her. “There’s something about leaving your spouse to the perils of being a Scout that’s terrifying. Knowing that while I’m safely cooped up with his child in my belly, he’s still out there risking his life with no guarantee that he’d make it out alive. It kept me up at night. Especially knowing how truly dangerous those perils are because I, myself have experienced them. And I would wonder, who would look out for him now? Because it was I who looked out for him.” Like a spell broken, she shakes her head, and her brilliant smile comes back to light up her face.

“Yet still, if a little bit of fear and bravery is all it takes to spend a life with him, to be the woman who gets to love him forever, then so be it. My husband is a skilled soldier. I trust that he can take care of himself.”

Christa—and secretly, Mikasa—all but swooned and sighed at how romantic their visitor’s words were. Ymir meanwhile, was eager to hear more as the group was nearing the mezzanine.

“How was it? Dating as soldiers, I mean. I can’t imagine it was particularly welcomed that you were dating the Scout’s top-dog,” Ymir says carefully assisting the woman through the last few steps. The woman wiped at the sweat on her forehead with a kerchief, and took a deep breath; the flight of stairs already getting to her. Still, she gave her usual lovely smile to Ymir.

“The relationship was certainly kept under wraps. People have suspected that I’m dating someone, but they never could figure out who.” She chuckled to herself. “I can’t imagine how not, with the many times I locked myself in my husband’s office to help him with late night ‘paperwork’ back then,” she says with air quotes, grinning at the Cadets’ blushing faces in realization of what she meant.

“And when I finally fell pregnant, and the cat was out of the bag, people couldn’t believe who exactly I was dating either, much less that he’s the father of my child. ‘How could someone like him, be with someone like her,’ they would say,” the woman laughed.

Ymir-- who was positively charmed by their visitor’s warmth and bubbly energy-- scoffed in jest. After all, it only made sense for a lovely woman to fall in love with an equally lovely man.

“Please, you’re a perfect match for Commander Erwin!”

~

Meanwhile, walking along the Commander’s Corridor, Armin and Bertholdt—who joined them on the way after he finished his errand— had the unfortunate opportunity to spend the walk to Commander Erwin’s office listening to Reiner gush about how beautiful that pregnant visitor they just had was.

“The Commander’s one damn lucky bloke!” Reiner moans, a hand rubbing his face.

“Well what did you expect? Have you seen the Commander? Of course he’d have a gorgeous wife,” Bertholdt replies blandly, already tired of Reiner’s constant groaning.

“And maybe it’s best not to lust after the Commander’s pregnant wife, Reiner,” Armin reminds nervously, eyes darting around in case anyone were to hear Reiner adulations.

Reiner sighed, “You’re right. Besides, if I were husband to a woman like that, I’d make sure to get her pregnant. I’d go absolutely feral, I’d tell ya!” Reiner smirks, elbowing a wincing and a grossed out Armin and Bertholdt.

“Shut up Rei, I don’t want that image in my head,” Bertholdt deadpans.

“Okay be quiet now, we’re here.” Armin says, as the three stop in front of the Commander’s door.

Bertholdt went ahead and gave three respectful knocks.

Oddly enough, instead of the usual prompt reply of their usually prompt Commander, the cadets heard a series of muffled shuffling and a few bangs on wood. Then finally, came Erwin Smith’s—albeit slightly strained—baritone.

“Come in!”

Armin could’ve sworn he heard giggling after the Commander’s reply, but Bertholdt turned the knob and swung the door open nonetheless.

To their surprise, they found the Commander with none other than Petra Ral in his office.

“Is it just me or did we interrupt something?” Armin discreetly whispers to Reiner, eyeing the slightly disheveled appearance of their Commander as well as the hurriedly awkward way Petra is combing down her ginger hair.

“Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday, Sir. But we’d thought to let you know that you’re wife is here,” Bertholdt announces with a firm salute.

At his words, both the Commander and Petra look to each other with a funny look on their faces.

Confused, Erwin cocks a thick eyebrow. “I’m sorry, who?”

Back at the doorway, the three Cadets blink back. “Err… your wife, Sir?”

It was then that the boys heard a brisk tap on the still-open door behind them.

They pivot to see Squad Leader Miche by the door, smirking at them, and an utterly amused twinkle in his green eyes.

“Sorry to break it ‘ya, boys. But the Commander’s already with his wife,” Miche winked at a peeved Commander Erwin and the blushing ginger girl right beside him. Miche then gives the couple a woman’s name, telling them that she’s here. (He must’ve smelled her in the premises before anyone even had to tell him.)

Extremely puzzled, Reiner looks from the entertained look on the Squad Leader, to his Commander, and now apparently, to his Commander’s wife.

“Then who’s…?”

Before Reiner could finish, Miche simply threw his head back in a fit of laughter, as him and his newest piece of gossip to tell Hange, went on their merry way.

~

At the mezzanine, the woman stops.

“Commander Erwin?”

The woman blinked at the Cadets who have also stopped walking, looking back at her in confusion now.

She then turns to Ymir with a bewildered look on her face.

“Erwin isn’t my husband.”

“What? Then who are you here to—“

“Lieutenant Ackerman!”

At the sound of that unmistakable screech, the pregnant woman whirls and shrieks back.

“Hange!”

Excitedly, the bespectacled scientist ran over to the woman and gave her the tightest—but careful—of hugs. Immediately, Hange started fawning over her old friend.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mrs. Ackerman herself,” Hange says cheekily, as she went to hold her laughing friend’s hands. “Oh, look at you! Oh my goodness, you’re so big!” She exclaims giddily, gently rubbing the pregnant lieutenant’s belly.

Meanwhile, Christa stammers quietly. “D-did she just say… Lieutenant?”

“…Ackerman?!” Eren added, mouth open.

“Hell no.” Ymir gaped. There was no fucking way.

Beaming prettily, you giggled at Hange. “Well, I’m already at my third trimester!” You took a breath, and held Hange’s forearms. “It’s so good to see you again, Hange. I hope Levi didn’t sass you too much while I was gone.”

“Puh-lease! I’d say it’s Levi who’s had his hands full with me and my shenanigans since you’ve been gone,” Hange chuckles teasingly. She then tilts her head towards Eren and sighs dramatically, “I wouldn’t say the same about Jaeger over there, though.”

Now addressing Eren, Hange tells the Cadet, “Thank your lucky stars, Eren! You’re about to have a helluva stress-free weekend now that Levi’s wife is here!”

Still shocked, Eren just nods absently.

“Well, Lieutenant. I’m sure you’re here to see your Captain?” Hange loops her arms around the woman’s cheerfully. “I’ll take you to him! Let’s pass by Erwin and Petra along the way, I’m sure they’ve missed you.”

And off you two strolled, across the mezzanine and up the last flights of stairs onto the Commander’s Corridor, four flummoxed Cadets trailing behind you.

~

Reiner, Bertholdt, and Armin’s bafflement was broken by Petra’s squeal at the mention the woman’s name.

“She’s here?!”

Petra then flies out her husband’s office, the boys quickly getting out of her way. At the sight of her best friend at the end of the corridor, she calls out her name and goes, “About time you visited!”

Lieutenant Ackerman hugs Petra back, and soon enough, the three women were already thrilling about the Lieutenant’s pregnancy. Compliments on how glowing she looked, questions about how far along she was, how she was faring with the pregnancy, and if she had a clue about the baby’s gender flew about in giggles and sighs.

In a moment, Commander Erwin himself has followed Petra out to also engulf his subordinate-turned-good-friend in a warm hug.

~

At the side, Eren was still carrying your wicker basket. When he and the girls finally met up with Reiner, Bertholdt and Armin by the Commander’s office, Eren nudges Reiner sharply.

“She isn’t the Commander’s wife!”

“So we’re finding out,” Reiner grits out. Eren gives out some really painful jabs.

~

“Is it just me, or did your eyebrows get bushier, Erwin?” you tease.

“Shut up.” Erwin quips back, still hugging you. He looks down at you, smiling fondly, and feigning annoyance in his voice. “You’re lucky I missed you.”

When you finally separated, Erwin held your shoulders gently as he glanced to the flight of stairs you just traversed. “How are you and the baby? The stairs didn’t exhaust you too much did they?”

“We’re fine, and the stairs were nothing, don’t worry. I wasn’t handpicked by Humanity’s Strongest himself for nothing, you know,” You beam up at Erwin who was already nodding in relief.

“Good. Levi would kill me if I allowed you to get strained.”

You roll your eyes, “Levi fusses over me whether or not I get strained. But guess what, Commander,” you had a delicious sparkle in your eye.

“I made cake.”

And like a little kid, Erwin Smith gives a small pump of his fist; he’s always been a terrible sweet tooth. While Hange whoops in joy.

Petra looks to the new recruits who were watching the odd scene before them. It isn’t everyday they see their commanding officers act so ecstatic and carefree, after all. Incredibly far from the usual strict fashion their superiors would carry themselves. Commander Erwin, especially.

Smiling, Petra addresses the Cadets, “Look sharp, Cadets. You’re looking at one of the most exceptional sharpshooters in the three Walls! Graduated first in her class and everything. Even precedes me to the Special Ops Squad!”

“And the Scouting Legion’s finest Lieutenant,” Erwin added proudly, to which you only chuckled bashfully at, lightly swatting at his arm.

“But you kids can call her Lieutenant Ackerman,” Hange shrugged, grinning. Knowing exactly how Reiner, Bertholdt, and Armin would take the new information, despite her nonchalance.

And Bertholdt’s answer delivered just the reaction Hange anticipated.

“Wait. Did you just say--?”

“OI YOU RAT BASTARDS!”

Then like the rumbling thunder of an approaching storm, came Captain Levi Ackerman, stomping in with a smirking Miche just behind him.

And absolutely furious.

“What in the actual fuck made you brats think that letting my pregnant wife climb up the stairs was all fine and dandy?! I swear to sweet Sina’s shit, if something happened to—“

But something makes Levi stop in his tracks.

It was you. And oh, what a sight were you to behold.

The last time he saw you, your baby bump was only just showing. But in that moment, when you made that graceful turn of yours to peek up at him through your eyelashes, a playful smile dancing on your lips, Levi was convinced he must have married a goddess. A faerie woman who has quite utterly entranced him in a spell. A nymph who’s sly smile holds many a delicious promise to a simple man like him.

You looked absolutely divine with your full belly. And his wonderstruck burns deeper at the thought that it was his child that your beautiful body was growing; it elicits something primal in him. His wonderfully gorgeous wife was pregnant with his child, and Levi’s entire being ached to be near her. Ached to protect her and their baby; to provide them with everything their hearts desired.

Then Levi Ackerman quickens his pace to a sprint until finally, you were in his arms, safe and sound…

Until finally, he had you wrapped up in a kiss.

Furtively, Hange whispers to Ymir with a grin, “She’s always been the only who could calm him down.”

~

Once Levi was satisfied that he’s kissed his wife enough, he looked to you with warm eyes—warm eyes that no one else would see otherwise, if it weren’t for your presence smiling glowingly back at him.

His hands, so strong and calloused, wavered at your belly; hesitant that they might hurt the precious treasure within. Patiently, your soft hands took Levi’s hard ones—hands that have seen so much violence—and held them against the swell of your belly.

“It’s okay, Levi. Hold your baby.”

He held you so tenderly, so lovingly.

“Next time, don’t take the stairs. I’ll be coming down to you, no matter the time of day. ” Levi admonishes in a low voice, gunmetal eyes serious.

You just giggled at what the Cadets would think to be a fairly intimidating face, “You worry too much, darling. As if you haven’t trained me to be tough as nails.”

It could be nothing else but sorcery, the Cadets think. Absolute witchcraft! How in the world could this tiny woman turn the Captain’s temper up on its head just like that? They were like a tableau of the sun and the moon come together—a bright and bubbly girl, with a cold and aloof Captain. And much like the sun and the moon, one’s lightheartedness bounces off the other.

Now, Ymir understood why the Scouts couldn’t believe who she was dating back then. She couldn’t believe her eyes even as she watched Humanity’s Strongest himself envelop the woman in an embrace! But hey, Ymir was at least right with two things—Captain Levi’s lover is indeed both an angel and a bombshell of a woman.

Suddenly, Levi’s soft expression turns sour.

“I’ve also been filled in by Miche, you brats.” Levi’s menacing eyes flash to the Cadets that have accompanied his wife. A look which has promptly frozen the soldiers into attention.

“What kind of dimwit-loving maggot ate at your brains for you lot to think to bring her to Erwin’s office, huh?”

Briefly, Levi wondered if it was a breach of military decorum to smack these nitwits up the head for assuming his lovely wife was Erwin’s and not his.

The Cadets only stood frozen, not daring to say a word. The Captain certainly wasn’t a man whose anger they wanted to incite; even accidentally.

“Hey, hey, Levi, please,” you speak up, cupping your jealous (and adorable) husband’s cheek to make him face back to you, treating him once again to your tinkling laugh. “It’s my fault, I didn’t exactly introduce myself properly. Besides, it’s for the best. We both know that once you’ve got in me in your clutches, who knows when you’ll let me see Erwin and Petra anymore?”

And with your magic touch, the Captain visibly calms down. A little embarrassed (and blushing) that’s he’s been so easily rendered love-struck by his wife’s laughter, Levi sighs. He reaches to stroke the luscious locks of your hair, “And for good reason.”

Levi glares up at his blonde friend’s grinning face.

“He’s gonna finish up all the cake.”

~

Once the Cadets have been dismissed, you distribute the quaintly packaged boxes of cake to the Smiths, Hange, and Miche. Before you and Levi left for his office, Hange tells you to drop by her lab before leaving so that she can do a check-up on you.

“I know you have a good midwife and doctor back home, but you can never be too sure, eh? I also want to make sure you’re okay enough for the travel back.” She says to you and Levi, something you very much appreciated. You thanked her as Levi, after putting some serious thought into it, begrudgingly promised to bring you over despite the fact that it would leave him with even less time with you.

With an arm around your waist and a hand resting securely on your hip, Levi takes your wicker basket, and leads you to his office at the other end of the corridor. At the back of his mind, Levi knew that news of his wife would spread like wildfire now that the new recruits have met you. But he didn’t mind, because all he wanted was some much needed alone time with his wife.

Even now, on the way to his office, aides and squad leaders have already taken notice of you and the way he was holding you. Stares—both curious and disbelieving—followed them as these poor Scouts wrapped their heads around the fact that their fearsome Captain was being tender to a woman.

A woman who was delightedly telling him about the special carrot cake she made him—his favorite. As well as the artisan jasmine and ginseng teas you got him from Wall Sina. You even brought Levi’s favorite cleaning wax!

But when Levi finally had you behind his office door, all these treats were effectively forgotten. Because in a single husky order from your Captain, he’s got you melting like putty beneath his hands. Moaning his name and whimpering for him to come closer, to kiss you deeper.

And Levi, happily obliged.

~

The next morning when you woke up, your husband was nowhere to be seen. That didn’t alarm you though, knowing full well that as Captain, he often had a full schedule and has always liked to start his day early. So he’s probably somewhere working out, or overseeing training if he wasn’t in his office doing early morning paperwork.

And then something heavenly hits you. Something deliciously heavenly, to be exact.

You heard your stomach rumble, as the smell of butter, maple syrup, and freshly roasted nuts rouse you from bed and into your maternity clothes. With the morning dew still hanging in the air, you waddle across the courtyard to reach the mess hall where all the food you were craving was, when you heard a horse’s familiar neigh.

Looking up, you find Levi looking every inch the battle hero he was, as he gracefully rode on his great steed, Midnight, whom he’s slowed to trot and then finally to a halt beside you.

“Good morning, Captain,” you greet your husband cheekily.

“Good morning, why are you up so early?” Levi asks, thin eyebrows crunched together in concern. You haven’t even done up your hair yet.

Shyly, you bit your lip, and shrugged. “I got hungry.”

At that, Levi’s eyes widened in realization. Already mentally kicking himself that of course his pregnant wife would be craving for some food. He hasn’t lived with you for so long that he’s forgotten to ensure that you had breakfast by your bedside once you woke up.

‘Duh Levi, you dumbass,’ he thinks to himself

Quickly, he swings himself off his horse, and while firmly holding the reins, goes to you. He cups your face with an earnest and apologetic look in his face.

“I’m sorry, darling. I should’ve brought you up some food, you shouldn’t have had to come down.”

You give him a peck, “Shh, it’s alright. You wouldn’t have known which one I was craving for anyways. And exercise is good for pregnant women, Levi.”

Levi looks back to you softly. “Okay,” he concedes. “But you have to kiss me again.”

And so you did.

Passionately. Devotedly.

~

It would have been unmistakable to those who witnessed you and your Captain kiss as to exactly who you were to him. Especially once they’ve noticed your matching wedding rings and your very pregnant condition. And it was nice, you think, to finally be able to wear your heart on your sleeve around the man you love; free and unafraid of judgment after years of secret rendezvous and feigning innocence.

It was certainly a thrill for a young woman like you to have unexpectedly attracted the interest of her handsome, older, Captain. And not just any Captain, Humanity’s Strongest, no less! The flirting behind closed doors, heated gazes across rooms, the innuendos, and the whispered promises; it was all as if your life has turned into a novel.

But you and Levi prefer this—to love unrestricted, and for Levi especially, to care fuck all who saw him kissing his lovely wife.

Yet still, when Levi lead you to the mess hall where many Scouts were already having their early morning breakfast at, you once again felt like the foolish young lieutenant that’s gotten herself pregnant, and even worse, has lost the baby. The stares and whispers following you both as you entered the hall took you back to time where stares and whispers felt like a weapon against you. And for a while, walking into the mess hall was like walking into a battlefield with the way you had to hold your nerves together, and desperately tried not to freeze up.

You felt well and truly disgraced back then. There was no denying the quiet but stifling judgement of seemingly all seeing eyes that trailed the girl who dared let Levi Ackerman fall in love with her. Who dared be as careless as to lose their esteemed Captain’s baby, on top of pretty much being branded as a whore.

Of course, Captain Levi promptly and adamantly married you after you miscarried and were safe enough. Levi was the one who convinced you to at least take a break, if not to retire completely, from being a Scout in order for you to safely have your pregnancies. It would kill him, Levi said, if anything bad happened to you while on the job. And he’d be damned if he’d let even a sliver of a chance where you or your baby could get hurt. Not again.

And so while your ordeal as the Scouting Legion’s newest scandal has long since been a bad memory now, you still couldn’t help but anxiously and unconsciously walk a half step behind your husband in order to hide yourself behind him.

Noticing this, Levi takes your hand, and gives it a firm and reassuring kiss.

I’m right here, it said. You’re safe.

But the dread would soon dissipate, as Levi carefully lead you to a table where his squad was already beaming up at you in greeting, morning coffee in their hands.

“Lieutenant! Good morning!” calls out Eld. He was always a morning person.

“I knew you were here! The Captain hasn’t rang us for paperwork all night!” Oluo jibes good-naturedly.

“How’s the mini-Captain going along?” Gunther added smiling, referring to your big baby bump.

“You mean mini-Lieutenant,” Levi says to his squad pointedly. He’s always hoped for a girl. You once joked to him that he only wanted a girl because he wanted to be able to kick their daughter’s future boyfriends’ asses. Levi scoffed at you then, “No shit.”

You just rolled your eyes, “The baby is going along well, Gunther. Healthy and strong just like their father.”

At that, Levi kisses the top of your head tenderly. He then looks to his men, “She’s too good to me.”

Gunther and Oluo chuckle fondly while Eld just raises his coffee cup in salute, “Cheers to that, sir.”

Once you’re settled, Levi asks you quietly, “Will you be alright? I’ll just go and get your food for you.”

You smile up at your indulgent husband, “Yes, I’ll be alright. I’m sure Oluo’s itching to share me the latest gossip, anyways.” You then proceeded to tell Levi what you want to have. “I want the potatoes with lots of butter, okay?” You all but gave Levi your best puppy dog eyes, knowing that he’d protest at you wanting unhealthy food.

Alas, the Captain sighs in defeat. He can’t say no to what his pregnant wife wants. Especially when she looks at him like that. “Alright, fine. For the baby.”

You beam up and give him another peck, “Thank you, darling.” And off Captain Levi went, with you watching the confident strides of his retreating form.

“Who would have thought, huh?” Eld’s voice breaks your reverie. “That our very own Captain and Lieutenant would be married. With a baby on the way, no less!”

“Yeah,” Oluo chimes in. “Who would have thought-- our lovely Lieutenant and our err… less than lovely Captain,” he says patronizingly. Oluo, perhaps more than anyone, would agree that Levi is an exceptional man. But even he could recognize the funny little couple you and Levi made.

You pointed at him, looking past Gunther’s arm which was pouring you a cup of coffee. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

Soon enough, Oluo and Gunther started telling you the buzz now that the new recruits have met you. Apparently, the cadets have been convinced that Levi was dating Petra. So you were quite a surprise to them. Eld even tells you how some of the recruits that haven’t met you yesterday—Connie, Jean, and Sasha, he said their names were—even walked up to this table this morning with very determined faces, asking if it was all true.

And with that, you and your old squad just laughed, feeling very much at home with the company.

~

Levi decided not to comment on the knowing smirks that the cooks met him with as he requested for extra portions for his wife. Levi knew he was sight to behold— their formidable Captain, gathering as much food as he can for his pregnant wife.

Levi’s used to it all now, the surprised looks and the gaping stares of soldiers at the sight of his undeniably dazzling wife. He’s also used to the confused looks of eyes darting between him, then to his wife, and then back to him, as if the bastards were trying to compute fucking rocket science. And he gets it. Even he has to pinch himself sometimes that this isn’t all a dream; that he’s actually married to the most riveting woman in the Legion.

But as he walked back, tray of all your favorite food in hand, the sight of you laughing with a hand contentedly resting on your belly was all a man like him needed to be satisfied that you’re real. You’re here, you’re real, and you’re his.

Once he’s sat back down beside you, he can’t help but kiss your temple again.

“Eat up,” he says, and it nearly fucking kills him the way your eyes lit up at the sight of the food.

Fucking adorable.

There was once a time Levi was convinced that he would never be one to have a family. That things like that just aren’t meant for men like him. But seeing you happily doing your little dance at how delicious you thought the food was (a truly very funny sight, considering this is Scouting Legion Mess Hall food.) He wonders what other preconceptions Levi had that you, and now your new baby, would be shattering for him.

After all, it was his own little miracle that you chose to love him at all. And at that, Levi has to agree with everyone else—

Who would have thought, indeed.

A/N: I had so much fun with this one, as usual. Maybe too much fun. I guess I'm incapable of writing short fics huh? Also, my inbox has been filling up, and I'm thinking back on writing The Wingman and The Paramour again so I'll be closing requests.

But hey, if you have any thoughts and questions, do hmu! My ask box is always open, and I love talking to you guys. Far better than talking to myself, I'd say. lol.

Edit: Requests Re-opened! HERE are the rules!

Hiii

So....

Country Levi AS a little league coach!!

He would be so good at looking after the kids. You'd provide the orange slices and drink. Levi would be so encouraging to the little ones. If they get hurt, he'd clean them and give them first aid treatment. They'd give him hugs and thank him. They'd say at school that Mr Ackerman is their hero 💕

He'd love the little uniforms and would stay up into the night sewing some things on them. You'd sleepily check on him, then help him out a bit because he's so excited about their next game.

He'd be so damn proud when his team wins. Levi isn't pushy, he's all about helping them and pushing them, but having fun is important!

Best part would be him hitting some balls if he's a baseball coach and seeing the kids light up in pure happiness at him hitting the balls very far away.

Jelly hello! This is SO cute and even if you don't know much about baseball how could you not want to help him help the kids?

Modern country Levi would love sports! Maybe not watching them a lot, but playing them! And after you volunteer at the local grade school and here of the budget cuts that include some of the outdoor activities, when you tell Levi about this he has a plan and gets to it!

Boys and girls are welcome, it's okay if they're not great as long as they practice and try, because they'll get better with hard work!

They love seeing you come with him because your snacks are the best! Nice refreshing orange or peach slices, watermelon, cold water. After you find out if any kid has any allergies you put together safe trail mix bags too. Plus sometimes baked goods like cookies or cupcakes. All the sweet "thanks Mrs Ackerman!" has you head over heels in love with all of them and your husband! If they try to rush off with food in their mouth you call out to them to slow down because you won't risk them accidently falling and it's not something they think about.

During practice if one of the kids tries to slide into home and falls a little too hard or someone misses a ball and gets bumped with it instead, Levi always makes everyone take a break to check in with them. First aid kits are always handy and Levi smiles when he sees you've refilled it with colorful tape and superhero band-aids. The kid gets their choice of color and pat on the back. "You did good, but he careful, yeah? Can't have you covered in pink tape." He jokes with them. If you are able to be there and watch you are right there with him helping the kid clean up and dry any tears. "Listen to your coach, he's always got your best in mind." You pass out water bottles and make sure everyone is hydrated and give an extra apple slice to your patient. You suddenly get a hug and have barely pulled away when Levi gets one too. It makes you soft seeing his smile as the kid gets back out there to try again thanks to his encouragement.

Back to those cupcakes? You are all about helping Levi earn money for equipment and uniforms. Bake sales it is! Levi is up with you helping make everything and the next day the kids sit outside busy places to ask passerbys for contributions. They would donate anyway but now that these delicious sweets are involved the kids raise more money then needed. You and Levi are sitting close by keeping an eye on things telling them what a good job they're doing, again handing out water bottles if it's getting to warm and having the kids take turns sitting in the shade with you if it's sunny. You always make extra cupcakes because it's easy to sell out, and this way they can take home any extras, which they love!

Once all the materials come in to make uniforms you're up late with Levi sewing the team name "Scouts" on the front with last names on the back. When you yawn Levi suggests you go to bed. "It's my project really. You've done so much, go to bed."

But you shake your head. You won't hear of it. "You might be the coach but as Mrs coach it is my duty and my right to be tired in the morning to make sure these get done." Levi grins and stops to come over and kiss you and soon you have to gently push him away because otherwise no more uniforms would get personalized tonight.

The kids get so excited at seeing their uniforms for the first time and cheer when you and Levi put yours on as well. They all have shiny new helmets and both you and Levi have a coaches cap. Their parents have all chipped in too so all the kids have new running shoes and extra bats and balls. Everything is coming together nicely!

And Levi is all about the team aspect of the game and having each others backs. And though he likes to win it's not the most important. But that won't stop him from getting excited and jumping up and down with you when one of the kids steals a base or one that kept having trouble hitting the ball gets a good enough one to get to first, and the one that fell trying to slide, now gets the game winner on the same type of play.

Hugs and cheers all around, hoisting kids up on shoulders! But even when they win Levi keeps it quick so they can form a line and show good sportsmenship and shake the other teams hands and tell them good job.

"Quite a team you have here coach." Says coach Smith from the next town over. "Couldn't do it without her." Levi points over to you, while you are telling the kids from coach Smiths team "good game, you played great!"

"Care for a rematch?" He'd play against Levis kids anytime who have been so polite and respectful. "Sure! Maybe we can have a practice one day!"

And then it's off to get pizza and ice cream and the kids form a line to get temporary tattoos and you and Levi put on matching ones too, and everyone takes a group photo, both in their uniforms and later on without hats while you're all celebrating. They want you in there too!

All the kids and parents chip in to get you and Levi something nice as a thank you and put in notes showing their gratitude and you're a sobbing mess and Levi proudly displays the special "words best coach" trophy on his desk.

And when you rent a bus to take a day trip to go play with Coach Smiths team, all the kids insist he and Levi throw and bat against each other and and thrilled at seeing how fast they run and how hard they hit. Everyone tells you to get in there too and while you're not the best, you've learned a thing or two and get a hit in. It's not exactly a homerun like the coaches have been getting, but the kids cheer just as loud at seeing Mrs Ackerman play.

And as you're handing out snacks to both teams members and you're getting twice as many thanks as usual, Levi speaks to Coach Smith about forming an adult team as well.

"Only is she's coach and makes us cookies." Erwin jokes about you. But, jokes on him because you are happy to do not only this, but introduce him to a friend who could just wind up becoming Mrs Smith.

Can you imagine an adorable baseball themed wedding with you and Levi in the wedding party? And everyone playing a quick game in their reception outfits with the kids now present before seeing the new happy couple off on their honeymoon.

In the years that follow as the kids get older and you and Levi welcome new kids, the other ones never forget those years with you two and always come back to visit.

First Date with the Vets - Erwin

Big shoutout to @chaotic-nick for making this lovely banner for me!

Overall Summary: I had this idea to do a first date with the vets and what it would be like. I am including Erwin, Levi, Miche, and Hange in this list. Each date will be different, but all of them will be set in modern au.

Check out Miche’s story here, Levi’s story here, and Hange’s story here

Pairing: Erwin x Fem!Reader

Content: Nearly all fluff

Word Count: ~ 6,100

Summary: Reader is on her way home to get ready for her blind date when she runs into a handsome stranger on her way home. On her way up to her apartment to get ready, the elevator breaks down with her and the handsome stranger stuck inside.

Keep reading

Some doodles of the Smiling Banker Man.

kita always does that closed eye smile when you walk in the room. like a dog sunbathing

It takes you a while to figure it out, but when you do you can't stop seeing it: the way his eyes crinkle at the corner, the sweet smile that curls up at the corners of his mouth, the subtle tilt of his head to one side.

You ask the other Inarizaki boys if they've ever noticed that he does it, and you're met with a chorus of affirmatives.

"Oh, yeah! He always does that!"

"Kita-san's shiba inu smile!"

"He's done that since we were in high school, you know." Aran looks at you with a teasing grin as the other boys fall over themselves laughing while they try to imitate the expression. "It's how we knew he liked you."

And once you're sure it happens, and your suspicions have been confirmed by others, you can't help but test it.

You leave the room under the pretence of doing something in another part of the house, only to step back around the doorframe a few seconds later.

Eyes, lips, head tilt.

"Did you forget somethin'?" Kita asks.

You smile, and let out a little laugh that's really just a burst of air through your nose.

"Yeah," you say, creeping over towards where he's sitting with a book in his hand. You dip down and press a kiss to his forehead, and his face scrunches up a little at the unexpected gesture--a smile not dissimilar to the one he sends you when you walk into a room. You pull away just far enough to appreciate his features as they smooth themselves out again. "Just that."

You see the smile every day, all the time, appreciating it each time more than the last.

First thing in the morning when you wake just before dawn and shuffle out to say goodbye to Kita as he heads out to the fields, and then again when he crests the hill on his walk back from a hard days work and spots you waiting for him on the swing he'd built for you in the backyard.

When walk into your kitchen one evening and find dinner prepared, and flowers waiting in a vase for you--one of Kita's hands curled tight around a little box in his pocket.

And when you cross the threshold to the chapel months later, and catch his eye at the other end of the aisle.

The smile never falters nor fails, though time does change it. As the years go on, the crinkles around his eyes and lips stop smoothing even when the expression lifts; he wears all the years he's loved you, and all the smiles he's shown you in that time in the lines on his face.

It only makes you love it, and him, all the more.

Life is the tillage

synopsis: with your mental health at an all time low, your old childhood friend welcomes you to recuperate on his humble plot of land. gradually you begin to rediscover the beauty of living — one rice paddy at a time.

tags: AFAB reader (called darling, love, sweetheart), childhood friends to lovers, reader deals with depression (NO mention or description of suicide/self harm), discussions of self worth, Japanese rice farming (probably inaccurate, but there are ducks and frogs!), food to communicate love, bed sharing, resolved romantic tension, eventual smut, no power dynamics, praise, oral sex + fingering (f! receiving), unprotected vaginal sex (pull out method), aftercare

wc: 15.4k

The covers on the train seats are threadbare, withered with age and itching uncomfortably against your skin. Your eyes wander across the empty carriage, a cacophony of steel meeting track and old wheels turning. Not many people from the city took this particular route unless they were already residents — it was a little further out into the countryside, so much so that most found it an inconvenient place to visit. As the journey progresses the colour palette evolves, the grey landscape of the city fading gently into green and golden hues, accented by the blushing evening sun. 

In that moment the horizon appears seamless and unending; with barely a blemish of cloud the sky reminds you of a fresh bruise. Your throat becomes uncomfortably dry at the simple beauty of it and you find yourself looking away to the hands in your lap, tightly wrung and trembling. Somewhere out there, across timelines and universes, there may be a version of yourself that would never get the chance to see this. 

The thought ripples through your chest and sinks to the bottom of your stomach. Inside you there is a vast and deep cavern, the pit weathering more through every year that passes no matter how much sand you throw into it. Such a tangible absence, it was paraxdocially heavy, and you carried it everywhere you went. You’d ask yourself time and time again: how much longer until it all collapses, how much longer until the infrastructure inevitably breaks? 

Eventually it was too much to bear. I want to live, you’d decided. Though that brief moment of strength hadn’t lasted very long at all. 

I want to die, you think as you sink against the window, vibrations rattling through the thick glass into your temple. And then again — how much longer? 

The station comes into view, a small blip in a sea of fields. There, on the only train platform in the village, Kita Shinsuke is awaiting your arrival. A childhood friend and the buoy you lost sight of years ago, his grandmother remained incredibly tight knit with your family even after they’d moved away following your graduation. It was that very nurtured connection which led to your being here; people do talk, after all. 

“My Shinsuke is happy t’have you for as long as you need. He’s got plenty of room in that house of his”. 

He’d made quite a life for himself in the time that had passed. Rice farming wasn’t anything close to extravagant but you felt the path was completely tailored to him; it fit well around his shoulders and stopped right at the cuff. Kita had always been a stickler for routine, often accumulating small actions that ended up serving a much larger purpose — sowing seeds and tilling fields to eventually bear crops and fill empty stomachs. 

Though there is no fluffy white rice to fill your own, only shame and embarrassment. You spot him quickly through the muddied window, pale green overalls unbuttoned at the torso to be tied around his waist, hand raised and shielding his eyes from the sun to watch as the train crawls to a stop.

You quickly get to your feet, stumbling as the brakes jolt the carriage, and make your way through the automatic doors with suitcase in hand. The air is cool, a gentle caress paired well with the sun's stifling heat, and a shiver spreads along your back as Kita approaches. 

He calls for you, your name sitting right at home in his mouth, having missed the thick accent more than you realised. It reminds you of a much simpler time, where the only thing you needed to worry about was homework or tallying the points for the boys volleyball team. But even then this thing had been gnawing away at you. A thing that would always follow no matter where you went, slowly descending upon you even if you managed to outrun it for a few days. 

It would find you here, too. 

A deep inhale to collect yourself, the oxygen fills your lungs until they bloat and your shoulders straighten up, forcing a grin across your face that strains each cheek. “Kita,” you move to greet him properly and hope he doesn’t see through your puppetry, “it’s good to see you again”. 

Good is perhaps an understatement. He’d always been handsome but in your time apart he has grown, shoulders broader and arms much larger. His bangs hang over his eyes slightly, earth and amber reflecting back at you as the light bounces through them. His expression pinches minutely as he looks you over, searching for something you aren’t aware of, softening only when he meets your gaze. As he smiles at you, you find your own is a little less plastic. 

“I don’t want any a’ that formality here,” he says as he extends an open hand, wordlessly asking to take your luggage, “doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I’m still your Shin, alright?” 

His fingers brush along your palm as he grabs the handle and you release your grip, fist pressing to your chest and clenched to hold onto the warmth. “Alright,” you quietly assent, shrinking into yourself as his arm leans against the small of your back to guide you forward. 

Your facade must be weaker than intended, you think, if he feels the need to linger so closely like this. 

“I’m parked up just there,” you glance up to catch as he nods in the opposite direction, following his line of sight to an off-white truck decorated in spats of mud around the outer panels. As the distance lessens you can see a red-gold omamori hanging from the rear view mirror alongside a pale blue air freshener. 

“Hop in,” he squeezes gently at your waist once before reaching across to open the door for you, “I’ll put yer things in the back”. 

Curiosity piqued as you waited for him. You pinch the good luck charm between your thumb and forefinger, smiling at the soft scent of chamomile emanating from the hanging decorations. The truck was clearly an older model, a radio that only takes CDs in the centre console and handles on either passenger door to roll down the windows manually. But it seemed well loved, and Kita never complained about appearances as long as the job got done. 

The car rocks on its axle as he climbs into the driver's seat, sending you another soft smile as he leans over to flip down your sun visor and jostles your belt buckle. “Ready?” he asks, tending to his own seatbelt. 

You nod, swallowing the dry swell building in your throat. Somehow while being a young man that you now barely knew, he really was still your Shin, and you couldn’t comprehend how quickly he invited you back into his life. The levels of familiarity and comfort that you’d built all throughout your childhood and adolescence, it was all still there. Unchanged, waiting. 

“It’s not far from here. Ya might have to endure some bumps though,” he continues to speak over the hum of the engine and wheels turning loudly against loose gravel. The back of the seat is hot through your clothes, having spent the day absorbing the sun. 

“Yer quiet,” he comments, though not unkindly, and you grimace regardless. 

“Sorry Ki— Shin. I guess I just feel a little awkward and… guilty, for imposin’ on you like this,” you tell him. Especially because you’d been a terrible friend after graduation, so caught up in your own turmoil and rationing out the small amount of energy you had between work, that maintaining long distance relationships became draining. 

“You could never impose on me. I know it’s a slight ways’ out from where we grew up but my home is still yours an’ that hasn’t changed”. The memory of ten years old Shinsuke’s chubby little finger hooked around your own flashes through your thoughts, both sodden with rain as granny swaddled you in towels. You’d run away from home after an argument with your family, something childish and inconsequential, but so big to you at the time. 

Shinsuke had found you in your shared hideout, patted the top of your head as you cried, and then dragged you back to his house in the middle of a storm. “When yer sad ya’ can always come sleep here,” he’d promised, “granny’s house is your house too”. 

Quietly watching as Kita’s fingers tap lightly against the steering wheel, palm pressing flat to turn it with each corner, a familiar sting spreads through your sinuses and you blink away the onset of tears. “Did… Do you know why I came out here?”

“All granny said is that you aren’t ya’self right now. And I’m not one to pry”. 

You exhale with relief. “Thank you, Shin”.

He hums, low and content. The glass windows vibrate in their frames as he drives onto a dirt road, either side shaded by wild grass. “The city isn’t for everyone. Yer always welcome to stay when you need a break,” he replies. 

The surroundings change, the hill faintly sloped, and as he pulls out onto another road you find yourself surrounded by a few acres of golden rice fields. At the end of the makeshift road is a two story wooden farmhouse, made up of heavy timber and uneven beams, covered by a traditional steep thatched roof. Across the landscape into the distance, you can see the silhouette of the Chugoku mountain chain. 

“All this is yours?” 

“Inherited all three hectares of it,” he breathes, voice tinted with faux exasperation and you feel yourself smile, “it’ll be time for harvest soon enough. Most of the ears are gold and beginning to bow”. 

“I haven’t got a clue what that means but I’ll assume it’s positive,” you laugh. The truck pulls up in front of a moderately small outhouse, stalling right where the tracks end, and he pushes down the handbrake before cutting out the engine. 

“When yer feeling up to it I’ll take you around the paddies and explain,” he sinks back into his seat for a moment, head turned to meet your gaze as he grins, “maybe I’ll even put ya’ to work”. 

Something about the mirth in his eyes and the charming quirk of his mouth strums your centre of gravity, a gentle swoop through your belly. “As long as I don’t get in the way I’d love to help,” you reply. 

Once again, for a split second you feel as if you’re being seen through, like your choice of words had given something away to him. “That seems to be a theme with you,” he observes, “don’t assume yer’ a burden to me. If you get somethin’ wrong I’ll simply correct ya, no harm done”. 

“Okay,” is your quiet reply. He softens considerably, hand falling heavily atop the crown of your head to reassure you before he begins to climb out of the truck. Your eyes fall closed, remembering the weight and the sincerity in his expression before following closely behind. 

Landing unceremoniously onto the soft soil, you begin to internally curse some of the clothing you’d brought along with you. Most were chosen for comfort, not for agricultural living, as proven by the awkward grip your soles have in the dirt. But Kita doesn’t comment, only offers an arm to assist you onto firmer ground, and the simple act is enough to wash away the exaggerated embarrassment. 

You often forget that most don’t think twice about the things you do. 

He insists on carrying your luggage and so you trail behind him in awe up to the house, taken by the beauty and craftsmanship woven into the structure. “This is beautiful Shinsuke,” you hear yourself say. 

He glances back over his shoulder to you from the veranda, one that appears to encircle the entire front of the house. “I had it re-thatched a few months ago with a bamboo frame. I read that they were built like this in the Edo period to look like hands in prayer,” he smiles. 

“It suits you”.

“Is that right?”

You step into the genkan, watching as he leans down to untie every lace of his boots, fingers hooked into the heel to pull them off gently and line them up neatly on the shoe rack. You feel somewhat sheepish for the rough manner in which you kick yours off in comparison, too lazy to undo any of the knots. He slips his socked feet into his house slippers and to your surprise, offers you a pair of your own. 

They’re a pale grey and closed at the toe, just like his own, and your heel sinks pleasantly into the thick sole. “I thought they’d be preferable over open toed since we’re headin’ into the colder months,” he says. 

“And the memory foam?” 

The corners of his eyes wrinkle behind thinly veiled amusement. “You always were easy to please”. 

Heat flushes to your face at the lighthearted teasing as he leads you further into the house. As expected it's big, meant to be occupied by a family of at least three generations, and decorated quite traditionally. To the left of the entrance is a pair of sliding doors leading to a tatami room with an unused irori in the centre, which connects further to a kitchen and dining area. 

“This upstairs toilet is all yours, but ‘fraid there’s only one bath which we’ll be sharing,” he says. Kita’s bedroom is the largest room on the first floor along with an extra tatami room that leads out to the veranda, while on the second floor there are three smaller bedrooms for you to choose from. 

“The one at the back of the house might be better if yer not wantin’ the sunrise to wake ya,” he offers kindly, noticing your deliberation. You take the one at the back and he carefully sets your luggage onto the mat beneath the window. 

You breathe deeply and take in the space, embraced by the distinct scent of wet earth and rice straw. Kita watches in comfortable silence as you acclimate, the realisation that this would be home for a few weeks finally settling in. It was nothing like your old cramped apartment back in the city — the room was minimal, but so imbued with nature that you didn’t feel constricted at all. 

His footfalls are light as he crosses the threshold to slide open the closet. “The futon is in here, I aired it for the better part of yesterday so it’s ready for you to use,” he says, “it’s gettin’ late so I’ll start on dinner. If ya like I can get the firewood goin’ outside so you can take a bath in the meantime?” 

You should have expected, given the time period it was built, that this house would not have a regular bathroom. A fleeting sense of fondness flickers through you at the confirmation that Shinsuke, since the day of his birth, has lived in a manner beyond his years. He’d always held great appreciation for tradition, and you’re happy knowing that love permeated all avenues in his life. 

“A bath would be nice,” your hands wringing together against your stomach, smothering any passing anxiety about burdening him. You wanted it to be just as it was, you wanted to be the person he remembered. 

As promised, Kita had kindled the firewood at the back of the house and the water was warmed through the hot pipes, your body sitting deep in the basin as it laps at the curve of your neck. It’s a little funny finding his products lined along the shelves of a room trapped in time, the bright purple plastic of his body wash — again, chamomile — so out of place next to a todanaburo bath. 

The rippling sounds echo as you move, ringing in your ears with each pass of cloth over skin. It would be lonely if not for the occasional clattering of pots and plates bleeding through the gap in the door from the kitchen. 

You don’t soak for very long, conscious of the food going cold. The towels left folded atop the laundry basket are new, thick and soft between your fingers. His forethought makes you smile, as it always has, reminded of his earlier words. If you truly were easy to please, then you wondered why you felt burdened by your own needs. 

Dressed in your pajamas, sleeves to your wrist and pant legs loose around your ankles, you join Kita in the tatami room by the kitchen with the ends of your hair still damp. He has set out a low table, cushions either side for you to sit on, and the inori has been covered. In the time you took to bathe he has changed into a muted grey jinbei jacket and light sweatpants, 

“I was curious if you’d be usin’ that,” you motion to the square recess in the floor, voice announcing your arrival. He glances up at you, pausing as he sets out the small dishes in the centre, and hums amusedly. 

“Hasn’t been used in decades. Decided to leave it there to keep the house's character,” he says, lining your chopsticks vertically exactly an inch from your plate, “but it’s good to feel close to yer ancestors too. I imagine they would’ve shared meals here often”. 

You get to your knees, heels pressed either side of your thighs as you take your seat across from him. The sweet scent of teriyaki sauce floods your senses and you observe the meal set in front of you. Sautéed vegetables of red, gold and green are resting atop a serving of white fluffy rice, along with neatly cut blocks of tofu. 

Your eyes meet as your hands simultaneously come together in prayer, and you say thanks for the food. 

“Donburi?” you murmur appreciatively, chopsticks in hand as he motions for you to eat, Kita’s warmth lingering along the stem, “it smells amazing”. 

“I prepped the tofu a few days ago an’ would’ve hated to waste it,” using deft fingers he takes a piece between his own chopsticks and dips it into the small sauce dish, “nothin’ special but I hope it’s to your liking”.

You cushion a small cube of tofu with some rice and bring it to your lips, hand cupped beneath to catch the runaway grains. The sauce is tangy along your tongue, soft hints of ginger and umami absorbed into the lightly crisped coating. It’s good, and you tell him as much. 

There is no sense of awkwardness, no pressure to find your footing and engage in conversation. Kita had always been a quiet eater, preferring to show gratitude by savouring the food on his plate, and so the two of you eat together in familiar silence aside from the occasional passing of dishes. Somehow, everything tastes better in his company. 

As the evening winds down Kita pours you each one small cup of sake to rinse your palate. Having finished your meal first you try not to watch as he tends to the last of his food, stomach not quite full. “Did you want to go over your day to day expectations now that I’m here?” you finally ask. 

With his free hand he swipes the corner of his mouth and licks the stray sauce from his thumb, humming contemplatively. 

“I get up every mornin’ around five. I like to catch the sun as it comes up and start working early,” as if reading your thoughts he pinches a piece of tofu between his chopsticks and leans forward to put it on your now empty plate, “so if ya wake up and I’m gone don’t panic”. 

“Alright,” you murmur gratefully, lifting the golden cut cube to your mouth, “and when you’re not busy, will you show me the ropes?” 

“Course I will darlin’,” he replies. The pet name falls so naturally from his lips you almost miss it, warm beneath your skin as it registers. “I’ll even introduce you to the ducks, if that’s what ya want”. 

Unexpected, a grin curls at the corners of your mouth, excitement rousing in your chest. “Shin, you have ducks?” 

Judging by the smile in his eyes, your delight is contagious. He reaches over to take your empty plate while you’re distracted and begins to stack them atop one another. “I do,” he says, “raising ‘em alongside the crop is good for keeping pests away. And they help with fertilisin’ the seedlings too”. 

You make a small cooing noise, withholding the onslaught of endearment building in your chest that spreads restlessly to your crossed legs as your knees bounce slightly beneath the table. 

The mental image of Shinsuke handling little bundles of yellow feathers, no bigger than his palm, brings you a monumental feeling of joy. Just as your eyes would be drawn to a small stroke of white across an otherwise black canvas, you are hesitantly lured in, and it happens so easily that your thoughts can barely catch up. Maybe the misery you carried had never been your fault — maybe you’d been in the wrong place all along. You yearned for a reason why things ended up as they were and you would accept any, naïve and juvenile as they might be, because you don’t think you could handle another just because. 

Maybe this could be it. 

After you have helped clear the table the two of you retire to your respective bedrooms, no artificial streetlight outside your window nor people passing by in the night to fill the empty air, and your fleeting happiness was swallowed up once again. It’s there that you remember; hope can be addictive, and the withdrawal is twice as cruel. 

Morning comes between blinks. One moment you are memorising the marks in the ceiling and in the next you are bathed by intrusive beams of light. The sun had risen far above the mountain line, so the day would’ve already started for Shinsuke — that knowledge should be inconsequential, but you still felt heavy for having missed breakfast. 

The sky, while bright, is slightly grey. You slip into something a little warmer, tugging thick work socks up over the cuffs of your sweatpants to hug your calves. He’d told you in passing that he had spare wellie boots that should fit you because your own shoes weren’t especially suited to wandering damp fields. 

Alone with the freedom to look closer, the house is different at this hour. You notice personal touches here and there that you hadn’t seen the night before — framed family portraits, his highschool year book free of dust, polaroids of you both as children; some older trinkets that you remember, too. Things his grandmother must’ve passed down to him, as you can only recall them in her own cabinets. 

Tucked beneath a touristic magnet of the sky tree is a new post-it note addressed to you. Shinsuke’s writing had been methodical and clear for as long as you’d known him. Penmanship was important, his family having taught him that traditions must be recorded and legible for future generations. In dark ink against teal-green, he instructs you to eat the food he left for you in the fridge. 

And whether it’s today or next week, come join me when you’re ready. 

The two onigiri awaiting you are wrapped with cling film and well shaped, assumedly made with the leftover rice. Your teeth sink into them, tender as the grains fall apart on your tongue, the same kindling of happiness settling in your stomach with each swallow. He made these with you in mind, perhaps he’d even woken up before his alarm to do so. 

You savour it — both the faint saltiness and the effort — and then make your way to the genkan with the goal of finding him. As promised there are a pair of navy wellington boots lined up by your own shoes, only one size up, which doesn’t matter much with the thickness of your socks filling the space. 

The breeze is a pleasant intermingling of warm and cool, billowing through your hair and guiding the darkening clouds further into town. The path leading to the fields is mostly flattened soil, soles scuffing on the occasional piece of gravel as you go. Thankfully Shinsuke isn’t too far from the house, having already made his way across a good two acres since day break, soaked to the knee with dirt. 

Strenuous work had always looked good on him, better when surrounded by a canvas of dull gold. Charcoal tipped bangs clinging to his forehead once he wipes away the sweat, rolling his neck as he rolls his shoulders to relieve the tension, chest heaving to catch lost breath. He never complained, choosing to enjoy each brick in the journey as it was laid, and you can’t help but envy him for it. 

He shuffles through the wet mud and bends every few steps to push a gloved hand into the drainage. You don’t call for him until the distance is shorter, gaze lingering for a while longer on the pink crawling up his throat with the effort. 

“Mornin’ Shin!” 

The sound of your voice doesn’t startle him. He stands upright and pulls off a glove with one hand to shield his eyes, looking over in your direction. Once noticed, his fingers lift in a subtle wave to beckon you, then he points them over his shoulder. “Got some guys I want’cha to meet,” he shouts. 

Sure enough, a few metres behind him paddling in the shallow field, are some adult ducks. Eight that you can count, bobbing and weaving between the yield, nipping their beaks along the water's surface. Propelled by your own excitement, with a first step your boot sinks into the sopping mud, each one more exaggerated than the last as you struggle to unstick yourself. 

Shinsuke merely pulls his remaining glove off and watches as you wade towards him, the levels only a few centimetres deep but still forcing exertion. When you’re near he offers his arm, mouth twitching into a soft smirk. “Good job,” he murmurs. 

“Shut up,” you huff petulantly between breaths, peering around him to see the flock between the stems of the crop. Any exhaustion is immediately forgotten 

“They’re so cute,” eager to meet them, you don’t notice that he only has eyes for you, “do they have names?” 

“Tried at the beginning but they’re easy to confuse with one another. I mostly stick t’numbers,” in your periphery you notice him reaching into his breast pocket, pulling out a small bottle of sun protection, “they’re here to work. They aren’t pets”. 

He takes advantage of your distraction, pushing the hair from your face and tucking it neatly behind your ears before smearing the suncream across the swell of your cheeks, and when your nose wrinkles in faint embarrassment he dots it onto the tip. Stammering, you ask: “why do I need to wear sun protection? It’s fall, and the sky is overcast—!”

“We could be out there for a while. Even if it isn’t summer anymore, ya gotta be careful,” he tells you. It feels almost as if he’s gently scolding a child for asking the obvious. A breeze dances through the crop and brushes pleasantly against your arms, patient while you allow him to massage the lotion in. 

“I can do that myself, y’know,” you murmur. He hums, a hand lingering at the curve of your throat before he pulls away. 

“I know. I just like takin’ care of you,” he replies. There’s no hesitance or forethought, he just says it as he does everything else — like he means it. Born from his need to do things a certain way and your younger self's sensitive disposition, he’d always had a penchant for doting on you. Even as you’d matured that habit never went away. 

Something dark twists itself into your sternum like clockwork and you attempt to smother it. Maybe he just thinks you’re incapable, it suggests. This part of you — the one that cannot accept anything with good intention as true — is the thing you hate most about yourself. 

“Sorry,” you rasp, looking to the space between your bodies and finding your rippling reflection beside muddied boots, staring right back. 

“Why?” he waits patiently, but you don’t have an adequate answer. “Have you ever known me to do something I don’t want to do? To do something without purpose?” 

You shake your head, peering up at him with squinted eyes as the clouds part, thinning to allow the sun through. The light swallows his frame, an outline of white gold as it hits his back. He’s beautiful and it’s familiar, because to you he has always been this bright. 

“Then just say thank you,” the water shifts as he begins to turn, his arm held out to help you walk through the sludge, “you aren’t a nuisance to me”. 

With his body no longer shielding the sun, warmth passes over you. His palm is soft as it kisses your own, left untouched by endless hours of hard work thanks to how religiously he moisturised his hands every day. You’re reminded again that small things do matter. 

“Thank you,” you breathe. 

Shinsuke guides you without complaint, adapting to your heavy gait while seamlessly making his way through the fields. He pauses every so often to lower himself and overturn the soil, right glove back on while the left is bare and intertwined with your fingers. 

You take the time to appreciate your surroundings. Given how he leans more toward traditional practices you’d expect smaller, irregularly shaped paddies; but these ones are larger and rectangular in shape, much more fitting for machinery. 

You pause as he regards you, “think ya can do me a favour now you’re out here?” 

The questioning tilt of your head is an acceptable response. He smiles and takes an ear of yellow rice between his fingers, the younger spikelets still coloured green, prying away a tiny kernel and handing it over to you. It’s light in your palm, and you shield it from the oncoming gust of wind for fear it’d blow away. “Test this for me. Chew it carefully between yer teeth an’ let me know what’cha think”. 

Cautious, you put it into your mouth and roll it over your tongue before catching it between your molars. You’re gentle as you squeeze it, feeling the furrow of your brow. He tilts his head as he waits, the field breathing around the two of you. It was mostly firm, but still a little soft, and you tell him as such. 

“Will you be harvesting soon?” you ask. 

“It is around that time,” he replies, “the flooding has been much smoother this year, so we can probably get to drainin’ soon”. 

A little unsure of what he meant, you still find yourself nodding despite him not being able to see it. “I always make sure the levels are stable… like t’keep it around seven to eight centimetres this close to harvest,” he continues. 

“Is that what you’re doing now?”

He releases a sound of acknowledgement, glancing up at you from where he’s crouched. “Partly. I’m also lookin’ for something,” he says, gathering a dark mass into his loose fist before getting to his feet. Curious, you lean forward to get a better look at it, and startle at the glassy pair of eyes blinking between his fingers. 

“It’s… a toad?” 

“A frog. His legs are too long to be a toad,” he kindly corrects, turning his wrist to smile at the creature, “we had a lot of tadpoles this season. Amazing, isn’t it?” 

“Risky maybe. What if they get hurt or stepped on?”. Heat flashes beneath your skin as you realise your hands are still interlinked, but you make no move to let go, instead using the other to gently stroke over the frog’s head. Faint laughter builds in your chest as it squirms. Shinsuke watches you grin with an air of fondness.

“They’re resilient an’ they try their best with what they have,” he murmurs after a quiet moment of contemplation, “it's not only that. The rice around us is sensitive to the slightest change and requires a lotta’ care. Would ya say I’m burdened because of that?”

Somehow, he has circled the conversation right back to the start, right back to the heart of it all. You level him with a withered glare, and he takes it in his stride, unperturbed as ever. Shinsuke can appear unassuming and plain, but you knew he could be skilled in forcing people to confront their own manner of thinking. 

“That’s different. This is your job,” the words catch awkwardly in your throat, and you swallow down the swell. Legs kicking where they hang below his fist, the frog slips from Shinsuke’s grasp and jumps into the paddy with a resounding plop. 

“The difference is I’m not burdened by my job, because I love doin’ it”. Light reflects through his irises, giving the amber hue a ethereal glow, and you notice just how much determination is behind them. 

“Just try to remember the things ya don’t like about yourself aren’t just exclusive to you — they’re all around us in all manner a’ ways. Even if ya do think you’re awful because of them,” he says with a squeeze of your hand.

The impending afternoon heat sits heavy on your shoulders, conscious of your palms growing clammy. You’re overwhelmed, ears of rice grains blowing against your arm, feeling the imposing weight of his stare. “I don’t— I don’t know what to—” say, or do. 

He exhales, tightens his grip on you despite the sweat, and smiles. “S’alright, no need. Just something for ya to think on”. 

You nod, listening to the distant calls of his flock of ducks. They appear to be enjoying themselves, getting their fill of bugs and pests from between the paddies. Shinsuke follows your line of sight and encourages you with a soft tug. 

“I suppose we should eat too,” he says, slowly directing you towards a narrow path leading back to the house, “let me fix up somethin’ for ya”. 

An objection sits uselessly at the back of your throat, the sinking pull in your chest returning for a brief moment. You wanted to do something for him, too. You wanted to apologise again, so instead you say: “thank you, Shin”.

You recognise the pride in his expression, and buoyant once more, your footsteps are much lighter.  

Eventually you cultivate a routine you’re content with, though you’re still terrible at waking up early you try to join him in the fields before lunch even when your mood protests. Shinsuke explains how to milk the rice, how he’ll drain the field and what’ll come after with the harvest, satisfaction bleeding through into his voice. There’s now a bone deep ache in your thighs and your arms, unused to taking on so much manual labour, but it feels good. 

The first week comes to an end and the days unfold, each turn of the earth a stark and new beginning — no longer do they blur seamlessly into one another like before. 

You’re less hesitant with each step. As the minor changes slowly accumulate, you begin to notice as the pressure releasing from your body, and Shinsuke does too. “Y’look relaxed this morning,” he’d comment with a smile, “it’s good to see ya settlin’ in”. 

Though you’re happy with the changes, you don’t get comfortable with them, always bracing for another wave of loathing. You’re under no illusions. Nothing is better, but it is easier. After all, walking on a casted leg does not mean it isn’t injured, only that it is supported enough to bear weight. 

The nights are the hardest. Silence in the country is far louder than you anticipated, and the only other thing you can hear is the voice in your own head. Tonight is a little worse. Something about the nothingness — the gaping maw behind your ribs, the way the warm air sits, the dense shadows surrounding the room — is overwhelming. 

You kick off your quilt and leave it rumpled at the end of the futon as you struggle to sleep. You knew you’d need to hang it out again in the coming weeks. Maybe Shinsuke would be content with you cleaning the house while he was out, just to show your appreciation. To hold some purpose. 

Restless, you get to your feet. The sliding door is quiet as you open it, a soft sandpaper sound, but you grimace at the creak of the floodboards when descending the steps. Through darkness your eyes adjust, finding familiar shapes and silhouettes around the house, meandering your way slowly towards the entrance. You’d always known Shinsuke to be a light sleeper, and only hoped that you hadn’t woken him. 

You release a startled gasp once you reach the genkan, left unsteady by the sudden drop as you step down into the space, and wait with bated breath for any other movement from his bedroom. Nothing. Exhale. You slip your feet into the shoes you’d first arrived in and leave the laces loosely undone, unlocking the front door with a gradual turn of the key. A click echoes into the hall.

Noise floods your senses. The pitched whirring of the cicadas is much louder out in the open, almost likened to a distorted electrical current. Under the dim moonlight you observe the canvas of land, tip toeing along the veranda and seating yourself on the edge. Having absorbed the day's heat, the wood is still warm beneath your bare thighs.

A breeze passes through the thin fabric of your shirt, skin pebbling as you cross both arms over your chest. The rice crops barely feel it, standing slightly taller than the week before. Things grow according to their environments, and no two things have the same needs, that is what you’d learnt in the short time you’d spent here. 

It's widely common knowledge, and yet it shakes the foundation of your own perspective when applied to yourself, pushing you to look inwards. A part of you felt angered by how uncomplicated it needed to be.

Would you hate someone for their struggles, for how their symptoms manifested? Would you hate someone for lashing out because of their own hurt, for protecting themselves? Would you judge and be unkind to someone for things out of their control? 

Of course not — yet you had made that assumption about the people around you, and of Shinsuke. You ran from everyone that loved you and told yourself it was for their sake, when it was really because you were scared. Arrogant as it was, you made yourself an unlovable exception. 

You have been so cruel to yourself. 

The realisation stings, radiating through your sinuses and lining your eyes with tears. You blink to will them away, a few strays spill over to dampen your cheeks, but as if in a state of inertia you cannot seem to stop. 

A wet breath catches in your throat, disrupted by the jump of your sternum, and a light flickers on in the room behind you. It’s then that you notice the sliding doors leading from Shinsuke’s bedroom to the veranda, a shadow moving behind the screen, gently tugging it open. 

“Y’okay there sweetheart?” he murmurs, the sleep still thick in his voice as he lowers himself beside you, “what’re ya doin’ out here?” 

He’s in loose pajama pants and a short sleeved shirt, the muscle of his thigh pressed comfortingly against your own as he mirrors your position. An orange glow from the lamp by his futon illuminates his expression, giving warmth to the concern there. 

You swipe the back of your hand along your nose, smile brittle and eyes sore. “Sorry I woke you Shin,” you tell him, “I was just thinking”. 

Forefinger hooked, he catches a tear that has fallen to your jawline, but doesn’t mention it. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks. 

“Just… about why I came here. About how you let me stay, despite the fact that I never offered a good explanation”. 

He hums, acknowledging that he heard you, and that he was still listening. Your hands wring together anxiously as you continue to speak. “Even so, you knew I’d been struggling, didn’t you?” 

“You’ve always been too hard on yourself,” he returns quietly, “there’s no need to explain if ya can’t find the words. You don’t need ta’ justify anything to me”. 

A knot in your sternum, inches thick and splintering with age, loosens with his gentle words. What, why, when. How much longer — explanations were all anyone had ever wanted from you. But Shinsuke held no such expectation, he respected your need for time and never pushed. 

You wanted to try. 

“It wasn’t so bad when we were younger. There was always– something, eating away at me. But it was duller,” as you speak it begins to weigh on you, and so you lean against his side for support. “Then I started to feel like I could never get anything right, and it leaked into every corner of my life. Soon enough I felt like I couldn’t even form relationships properly, that I embarrassed myself every time I spoke, and that everyone else could see it too”. 

“So I isolated myself,” you admit through shame, “but the guilt that came with it was awful. I didn’t know what to do– I still don’t”. The words, slightly warbled and cloying, cause Shinsuke to press his lips together in a regretful thin line. For a moment you think he too might’ve finally seen the worst of you, his body shifting as he gets to his knees and moves away. 

“Wait here,” he reaches to cradle the back of your head for a moment before beginning to stand, “I’ll be right back”.

As promised he returns to the veranda only a few minutes later and repositions himself at your side. Held in his careful grip is a photograph, slightly curled at the edges and well loved. In the centre is an old picture of you and Shinsuke as children, clearly candid judging by how preoccupied you both are with the sparklers in your hands. It had been taken on New Years Eve, each wearing traditional clothing that you faintly remember being far too tight. 

Swallowing the swell in your throat, you look at Shinsuke questioningly. His facial expression, always a little bit softer around you, is kind. “I don’t know if you’ll remember, but after this was taken y’had a real big cryin’ fit because you couldn’t spell yer name with the sparkler like I could,” he says. 

You laugh, but the sound is wet and nearer a sob. With his free hand, Shinsuke extends his arm and swipes away another stray tear sliding over your cheek, the touch lingering by your mouth. “While you were wailin’ like a newborn you said to me, ‘it’s not fair Shin, I’m never good at anything!” looking back to the printed memory, the warmth leaves your skin and returns to his lap.

“Granny told me once that we’re all whole people, but people can’t do a whole lot on their own,” he continues to speak and you watch as he gently traces his finger over your younger self, “sure, ya wasn’t good at everything. But y’had all the things I lacked, did a lot of the things I couldn’t — how else could I have cleaned our sliding door tracks, if not for your scrawny little hands?” 

You breathe a huff of amusement and the exhale seems to deflate you, your eyes burning as you curl against his shoulder. He welcomes it and rests his head atop your own. “What’s your point, Shin?” you ask. 

Being so close to his throat you can feel the faint vibration as he talks, drawn to the comforting heat thrumming through his skin. This was still friendly and you tell yourself it could be passed off as such, despite how he nuzzles into your hair. 

“You’ve trouble fathoming yer worth because you measure it by your successes,” he says quietly, “bein’ in your own head too long like that can distort the truth. The point is that ya don’t see yourself the way I do, or how anyone else does for that matter”. 

Shinsuke leans forward minutely, lips moving against your temple as he talks, mimicking a kiss with each word. “Don’t deprive yaself of livin’ just because you don’t think you’re doing it right”.

The moon is then overcast by cloud, and you’re left only with the intimate light of his bedroom flooding out through the sliding doors. “Okay,” you murmur, “I’ll try”. 

He thanks you. It’s enough for him, it always is. All Shinsuke ever asks is that you try your best, because the outcome never more meaningful as the effort before it. 

“Then, how about joinin’ me tomorrow?” you glance over to him as he tilts his head to meet your gaze, pulse poignant in your chest at the close proximity. Though you can barely see them, you’re sure there are faint freckles dusting his cheeks, kissed by the summer months. 

You’d like to kiss him too, you realise. 

“Tomorrow?” 

He smiles. “I’m goin’ into town to drop something off at granny’s, and was planning to get some grub from Osamu on the way home”. 

“I’d love to. I’ve missed her,” you reply. Shinsuke’s grandmother had been something of a matriarch on your street, watching multiple generations pass. She’d done more for you than you could ever thank her for, with both her kindness and her unending maternal love for you. 

“Plus I haven’t had ‘Samu’s onigiri since graduation,” the memory of it was a fond one, and if you concentrate you can still taste the pickled plum, “it’d be nice to see him again”. 

“I thought so too,” he nods, taking a final cursory glance across his land before eyes fall back to you, tongue subtly wetting his lower lip. He’s all warm toned — his face, his voice, his skin. 

“D’ya think you’ll be able to get some kip now?” 

His question plucks at the magnetism strung between the two of you. Deep in your gut you feel as if your answer might create a fork in the road, a before and an after. 

“Probably not for a while,” — not yet, I want to stay with you a little longer — “you can head off, though”. 

“Not without you,” he huffs, his larger hand encircling your wrist and encouraging you to your feet, “ya need to rest. If not in yer own bed, then in mine”.

Your mind briefly blanks, and he takes advantage of the long moment between your synapses connecting, guiding you into his bedroom. The futon is big, much bigger than your own, spread wide over the tatami flooring and headed by two thick pillows. 

“In… in yours? Is that really okay?” 

He slides the door closed, shutting the latch and giving one short tug to check it’s secure, glancing over his shoulder to where you are standing listlessly. The click echoes in your chest. “It’s fine with me,” he says, “is it fine with you?” 

You observe as he places the childhood photograph back on one of the shelves with more care than necessary. It isn’t the bed sharing that concerns you, but the implication that it could mean something more. 

“Alright,” you breathe, kneeling onto the covers and kneading the plush where your hand sits. It feels expensive, and was likely one of Shinsuke’s only selfish purchases. 

Your head sinks into the pillow gently, laid on your side and turned inwards, watching him settle next to you. The lamp is still on, mellow toned light magnifying the intimacy as he faces you, only a few inches of distance between your bodies. 

You swallow the urge to apologise. “Thank you, Shin”. 

“Thank you,” he returns reverently. Confused, you hum in question and he shakes his head, hints of a fond smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve done more for me than ya realise”. 

“Like helping with the farm?” 

“Like makin’ me happy,” he says. 

You weren’t sure what it was you’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. Reflexively you turn into the pillow, wanting to hide your smile and the truths written all over your face. The comfortability and yearning that oscillates inside of you when around Shinsuke only seems to spread, felt in the tips of your fingers as yours stretch to brush his in passing. 

You realise that love, something your consciousness had agonised over and grieved, was always been woven into your muscle memory; as if straddling a bike for the first time since you were a child, in your descent of a steep hill, your body remembers. 

You reposition your legs beneath the sheets and try to ignore how little you’re wearing. Influenced by the tension your voice is quiet as you reply: “I’m happier here too”. 

After he stretches across you to turn off the lamp, lingering far longer than he needed to, you fall asleep surprisingly quickly. Alongside the muffled cicadas had been the whirring of a small fan in the corner of the room, filling it with white noise, and his shallow breathing lulled you into security. This was not the first time you’d spent a night with him, though you hadn’t had a sleepover in many years, and you aren’t sure this could be likened to one held between children. 

You wake briefly a few hours later to the first glares of sunlight, squinting as you peer up at Shinsuke, still in the futon but sitting upright as he rubs the sand from his eyes. He notices your movement in his periphery and smiles, settling his hand atop the crown of your head to stroke your head, as if to soothe you. “Go back to sleep,” he murmurs, “we don’t have’ta leave ‘til this afternoon, so catch up on resting”. 

In no position to object, already halfway there as his nails lightly scratch your scalp, you let yourself have a few more hours. The next time your eyes open he’s gone, his side of the bed made up – corners perfectly overlapping, not a crease in sight – and the pillow is cold. There’s disappointment, but also a sense of relief that you needn't confront your feelings just yet. 

The air seems to have cooled further into the morning, no longer irritated by how your shirt clings to your skin. As you stand you notice a clock on one of his bookcase shelves, blinking digits back at you, informing you that it is almost lunch. Your gait is stilted as the circulation rushes through your legs, still sleep-mussed as you stumble through the lower floor rooms towards the kitchen in search for a glass of water.

“What’re ya lookin’ for?”

“Fuck, Shin—!” 

You flinch at the sound of his voice, carrying through from the main tatami room leading to the kitchen where he stands quietly in the doorway, a steaming mug held between his hands. He’s already in casual clothes, a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved sweater that clings nicely to his arms. He lifts it to his lips, hiding a smile as he drinks, and it’s unbearably attractive. 

“I was just, uh. It was a warm night so, I was gonna drink some water and maybe try makin’ lunch before you got back, but…” your rambling trails off into silence, feeling uncharacteristically shy. 

His eyes flicker to your bare legs for a moment. “If yer willing to get ready now we’ll head out an’ see granny earlier before we stop by Onigiri Miya,” he offers. Externally there is nothing out of place, yet there is still something tangibly different that you’re tempted to reach for. 

“Okay,” you accept, shifting awkwardly between each foot, “I’ll— I’ll go get dressed then. Can you fill up a bottle of water for me?” 

He nods once in agreement, and then again to the stairs, “I’ll be waitin’”.

So you rush each step, wincing at the weight of your footfalls as you go. You hadn’t packed much in the way of making a good impression, or with the thought that you might see anyone other than Shinsuke. In hindsight it had been naive to assume he’d let you isolate yourself all over again, but you’d truly forgotten just how close-by Osamu still was. 

You get yourself ready with haste. Shinsuke stands by the genkan amusedly as he watches you flit from room to room in a cartoonish state, toothbrush in one hand and hairbrush in the other, the buttons of your shirt needing to be fixed more than once. “Alright,” you huff a deep breath, hooking a finger to fix the tongue of your shoe where it folds inwards, “let’s go!”

The journey into the residential part of town is only slightly longer than the first. You lean your head against the window as it rattles, enjoying the vibration through your temple as you observe the many people walking along the pavements. There are a few families that you recognise, even some old students that’d been three years your junior in highschool. 

You suppose not everyone felt trapped here, like they had something to run from or prove by enduring the wider world. They all looked happy. 

The vehicle begins to slow as it crawls up to the curb, a familiar house coming into view. Shinsuke’s grandmother Yumie is sitting beneath the shade in a cushioned bench, a chestnut coloured walking stick propped up beside her. Her carer must be somewhere in the house, you think. Apparently it had taken her a good few years to accept the help, often getting by with the assistance of her neighbours. 

“What is it you were bringing for her again?”

“Some of the duck eggs,” he says, taking a moment to observe her wistfully through the windscreen before moving to unbuckle his seatbelt, “she likes ‘em soft boiled”.

Yumie looks up as she hears the sound of your passenger door falling shut, eyes narrowed into a squint as she struggles to see. Shinsuke approaches her with ease, hand lifted overhead in a wave while he calls out to her, and you watch her grin at his voice. “Shin-chan,” she croons. 

He crouches in front of her and lowers his head to her knees, bowing in greeting. “It’s good to see ya in high spirits granny,” you hear him say. He smiles at her and takes her hands into his own, squeezing them affectionately before her eyes are naturally drawn to where you linger behind him. She visibly brightens.

“Hi again granny,” you move closer as she beckons you, “you’re lookin’ healthy as ever”. 

“And you’re as bonny as the first day I saw ya,” she smiles, and the pink in her cheeks pay her back some of her youth. Shinsuke glances between you, his expression a clear mirror of hers. 

“I’m gonna give the eggs to Murase while you two chat, how’s that?” he suggests, straightening his back as he stands, “we’re not stayin’ long today, so I won’t hog any of your extra time”. 

You worry your lower lip between your teeth. “Are you sure that’s—”

“Thank you darlin’,” Yumie cuts in smoothly, “I appreciate it. So away with ya”. 

Shinsuke follows her instruction dutifully, hand brushing your shoulder with intent as he passes, casting a final smile your way as if to say good luck. Yumie titters at the interaction and pats the space next to her. 

“How’ve ya been faring over on the farm?” she inquires quietly, a playful air about her as if you were children sharing secrets, “has my Shin been good to you?” 

“He’s always been good to me granny, you know that,” you murmur back, entertaining her whims, “I’ve enjoyed staying with him”. She hums, much in the same way Shinsuke does, indicating that she’s pleased. 

“Ya sound a lot happier than when we last spoke,” — the phone call, her suggestion that you pack your things and come back home, you remember well — “had me worried, pet. You’re like another grandchild to me”. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathe the words and lean to take her hand, smaller and wrinkled in your own. She has gotten a little shorter too, you can tell. “I’ve… It's been hard. But I want to be better”. 

Her grip tightens, but it’s still weak. “You always were sensitive, had a heart like a bruised apple,” she says, crows feet deepening by her eyes, “wanted so badly to be like everyone else ya couldn’t see how wonderful you were as yourself”. 

Overhead, the sun begins to dim, smothered by grey. If you concentrate you can see that they’re coasting along quite quickly, and the darker clouds are not far behind. “I always found something to be sad about,” you recall noncommittally as you glare up at the sky, “I thought I was doing everyone a favour by pulling away”. 

In your peripheral Shinsuke comes out onto the front step, waiting beneath the door frame with no intention of interrupting. Yumie clicks her tongue, “nothing wrong with being sad, darlin’. It’s alright to ask for help — all wounds deserve healing”.

“Because whole people still can’t do a whole lot on their own, right? 

“That’s right,” barely noticeable as it starts, rain droplets sparsely litter the pavement, “Shin-chan tell ya that one did he?” 

Shin-chan is starting to look anxious, you think to yourself. You grow restless in your seat, wanting to move Yumie indoors before the weather worsens. “He did,” you murmur, glancing over at the man in question and wordlessly asking for his assistance, “we should go inside, granny. It’s startin' to spit”. 

She squeezes your hand once more before reaching for her cane, and turns to you a final time, smiling as she lowers her voice. “You deserve love, too. He won’t let’cha forget that anytime soon”. 

Shinsuke appears before you have the chance to reply discreetly, unperturbed by the secrecy of the moment and extending his arm for her to use as support as she pushes her weight against her cane, “time to head in, granny. I gave Murase yer duck eggs and he’s makin’ shoyu tamago”.

She vocalises her excitement, though rasped and tinny in her throat. Yumie had been an older woman for as long as you’d known her, so much so that you and the other neighbourhood children would gather to try and guess her age. But she’d still been spry, always keeping up alongside the other parents. There is melancholy in knowing her body was beginning to slow. 

The words blur together slightly as you gradually walk toward the house, rainfall quickening into a chorus of pitter-patter, white noise overlaying their voices. The spray is thin and abundant, the kind that hurts your eyes and stings when wielded by wind. A young man, presumably Murase, meets Yumie at the door. He’s clean cut, hair buzzed neatly to his scalp and dressed in a collared polo shirt, a bow at the back of his neck where his apron is tied. He bows upon noticing you. 

Shinsuke lingers with hands at her back as Yumie is helped into the entryway, his anxiety apparent despite trying to hide it out of respect. “Make sure you have enough time to stay when y’next visit,” she titters, turning to pat him gently on the cheek. He nods, and you do the same. 

“After I’ve drained the fields an’ finished the harvest I’ll have all the time in the world for ya, granny,” he replies, eyes closing as he smiles. 

“Good. Now you take proper care of each other”. 

Shinsuke’s touch is warm against the small of your back as he curls around you, your heads ducked closely together and giggling as you rush to the car even though it shields none of the rain. By the time you’re seated in the truck the fabric of your shirt is clinging to your shoulders and droplets are whipping against the roof. The engine sputters as it starts, evolving into a smooth hum as Shin leans across the dashboard to turn the heating on, pointing the small fan in your direction to give you more of the hot air. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, skin pebbling at the sudden change in temperature, “shit, that was fast. Didn’t think it looked like rain today at all”. 

“It’ll pass quickly. See,” — he points across the skyline and you follow the line of sight, finding a clear span of blue in the distance where the darker clouds end — “we should be fine. D’ya still wanna call in at Osamu’s?” 

“Yeah I want to. Does he know we’re coming?”

“I let him know before you woke up this mornin’”. 

“Ok. It’s been a while since we last saw one another,” you say, pressure returning to your chest along with the guilt, “since I last saw… everyone, really”. 

You’re grateful that he doesn't immediately baby you; you left people behind who cared about you. There were plenty of reasons for it, no ill intent, but it still hurt. Them and you. Shinsuke had always been comforting because you knew he would always be honest, and you didn’t really want to be told it wasn’t your fault. He steers with both hands on the wheel, fingers dancing over the curve, each tap joining the cacophony of water against glass and tire against gravel. Hearing the hesitance in your voice, he says: “a sincere apology goes a long way. People are more forgivin’ than you realise”.

You nod silently, fiddling with a loose thread hung from the seam of your pants, and focus on the trails left behind by the rain running down the windscreen before they’re wiped away. “Remember when we used to bet on which droplet would reach the bottom first?” 

Laughter rumbles in his chest, putting you at ease. “I remember ya always used to cheat by changing which raindrop you were followin’,” he replies. 

“I have no recollection of that,” you mutter petulantly, lips jutting into a pout to conceal your smile. The downpour begins to clear up, followed by a potent air of petrichor, and you watch as people sheltered under doorways and bus shelters flock back out onto the busier streets. 

You notice the Onigiri Miya sign in the distance, fixed above the door and displaying his logo to the public. You knew it was just his first restaurant and he wanted to expand his business, but the pride you felt at the sight was insurmountable. 

It’s moderately busy as you enter together. There’s a small line, so you join the end and use the time to survey the interior. Like Shinsuke, Osamu had always favoured things that were a little more traditional, and that was evident in his space. There’s a banner of the shop name written in japanese calligraphy, various artworks hung throughout the walls in appreciation of the local agriculture, and mahogany stained furniture that only adds to its character. 

At first there is a younger woman waiting at the cashier but you pick up on the familiar ring of his voice from the kitchen, loudly carrying through as he ducks beneath the curtain hung across the doorway and trades places with her for the time being. 

Osamu is broader than you remember him being; so clear in your mind is the image of him as a boyish second year, hair coloured grey in opposition to his brother's blonde. Now he stands tall, carrying himself with a natural air of confidence, looking as if he is right at home talking to his patrons from behind the counter. Shinsuke waits patiently beside you, shuffling further up in the line every few minutes, and you feel the prick of his stare as you observe your junior. 

Eventually it is your turn to approach, and Osamu’s eyes meet yours in a double take, his expression opening up as he grins. The tension in your muscles unravels — he is happy to see you. 

“Yo, ‘Samu,” the casual greeting falls from your lips before you can even think, still a habit even after all the years apart, “it’s good to see you again!” 

“Yer a sight for sore eyes, that’s for certain,” he folds his arms atop the counter and leans forward to regard Shinsuke as he speaks, “Kita-wan mentioned ya came back, but I thought he might’a finally started hallucinating after bein' alone over there for so long”. 

Shinsuke huffs a breath of amusement, and you try not to react as he rests his hand by your hip. “Watch yourself. Stop makin’ me sound like a recluse, or I’ll stop giving you the family discount”. 

The familiarity of being with them both swaddles you, and you feel yourself falling back into old shoes, surprised as how effortlessly the shadow fits. Osamu’s head falls for a moment in exasperation, hung between his shoulders as he snorts, before he takes off his cap to run a hand through his hair. 

“It’s brown again,” you comment abruptly, and his movement stills. 

“Ah,” his eyes brightened with understanding, “I forgot that you’d already left before I dyed it back. Whaddaya think?” 

“It suits you well,” you swallow the lump of guilt forming in your throat, remembering Shinsuke’s words, “everything… all of this, it suits you ‘Samu. You should be proud, and I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch”. 

Like wax to a flame, his face softens into a knowing look. “Don’t worry about it, we’ve all got our own thing going on. Yer here now and that’s what counts so,” — as he ducks to grab something beneath the counter Shinsuke strokes his thumb against your back in soothing circles and heat flashes through your body — “all I ask is you enjoy the food I lovingly made ya”.

He settles a to-go bag on the surface top, and still warm between your palms when you pull it closer. “I’ll be sure to do that,” you return with muted happiness, then glancing up at Shinsuke, “we both will”.

There’s a stilted moment of silence that you immediately pick up on, Osamu’s gaze flickering between the two of you and measuring the lack of distance, a brow raised in obvious suspicion. “What?” you murmur defensively. 

“Nothing’!” he hooks the cap back over his hair, tucking the stray hair behind his ear as he smirks, “just glad to finally see ya together after all that pining in highschool”. 

“It’s— it’s not like that,” you stammer at the implications and attempt to move away from Shinsuke’s proximity only to be kept in place as his fingers squeeze your hip, attention drawn to him as you ask: “right, Shin?”

But Shinsuke says nothing to help, only looking at you from the corner of his eye, the slight squint an obvious giveaway that he’s trying not to appear amused. Flustered, you gently slap his chest and pull away with the food bag tight to your chest, “whatever, I’m leavin’ before this gets cold”. 

Osamu covers his mouth as he laughs, calling out to you as you back away, “oi, make sure you come back again. ‘Tsumu is gonna be so mad he missed ya otherwise”. 

“I will!” you promise. Shinsuke circles around you in your distraction to get the door while lifting a hand to bid Osamu goodbye, the breeze swelling and carrying the smell of rain into the restaurant. Thankfully he hadn’t parked too far from the entrance, and you hasten to walk ahead of him, avoiding his mirth. 

The truck rocks slightly on its axis as you throw yourself into the passenger seat. Pulling the heavy door shut, you place the bag of food between your legs and keep your thighs together to keep the heat from escaping, glaring over at Shinsuke as he buckles his seatbelt. He remains nonplussed and announces “lets get ya home”. 

You find that the drive back is always much quicker, overcome by a sense of déjà vu as you’re taken back down the flattened dirt road leading to the farm, welcomed once again by the Chugoku mountain-scape. By the outhouse you spot a few stray ducks adventuring along the path, wingspans spreading as they’re startled into flight by the oncoming vehicle. 

He comes to a stop, pushing the handbrake down with a resounding click and muttering something under his breath about the wet mud. “Let me get out first an’ check you aren’t gonna sink in them shoes,” he says. 

So you wait, watching in the rear view mirror as he walks around the back of the truck contemplatively, surveying how saturated the soil was after the rainfall. Gripping the handle of the to-go bag as he unlocks your door for you, he offers an arm to help you in getting down. “Doesn’t look too bad here but I’ll have’ta head out and look at the water levels in the paddies,” he continued. 

“You should eat first,” you insist, finally breaking your silence with a thoughtful frown as he lets you down, “maybe we could get our wellies on and eat as we walk?”. 

Shinsuke smiles down at you, black tipped bangs hung low over his eyes. He’d need a haircut soon, you think. “Really getting into the gist of livin’ here, aren’t ya?” there’s an affectionate intonation to his voice, and again you’re met with the urge to kiss him, “let’s do that then. I wonder what he whipped up for us”. 

He leads you to the house unnecessarily with the flimsy excuse of not wanting you to slip, but you don’t want to let go of him either. Whatever has been kindling over the past week — over the many years you’d spent together — seemed to finally be coming to a head. At some point you’d need to confront it. 

After wearing them down your boots no longer leave blisters, the skin of your feet finally used to the constant movement and friction that came with wading through the paddies. Minor things like that are what helps you realise just how big of a change you have made; even the muscles in your back feel stronger, your posture a little straighter, more confident in the way you navigate the land. 

Osamu’s food is just as delicious as you knew it’d be. The rice is fluffy and warm in your mouth, the fillings tangy on your tongue, paired well with the crisp late afternoon air. Before coming here you don’t think you could’ve imagined ever feeling this at home again, not just in any place but inside of yourself. 

Even though it is late into the month of fall, you feel ripened. 

Fortunately, the water in the paddies are barely disturbed and unneeding of attention. You return to the veranda with mud caked around the soles of your boots, sitting along the edge to slip out of them, banging them together over the side to get rid of the excess.  

Shinsuke does the same. “Y’can leave them by the steps. I’ll hose them down later,” he suggests, and you concede. 

“Shin?” you softly call out to him, close at his back as you enter the genkan and gathering your courage, “why didn’t you say anything back there?”

“It’s nice seeing ya a little flustered,” he admits with an easy smile, watching as the back of his shoulders lift into a shrug, “besides, it’d make me a liar”. 

He turns as he notices you have paused in the hallway. “Be clear what you mean by that,” you sound breathless, heart bloated with hope, “please”. 

Anticipation heightens as he comes back to you, steps kept cautious as if he’s wary of your reaction, stopping only a few inches away from you. His adam’s apple bobs, swallowing before he speaks. 

“I mean it’s exactly like that,” he emphasises the words, like he truly wants you to believe them, “I mean it feels as if I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you”. 

Your body slacks with the next exhale, giddiness bubbling in your throat as you laugh, swaying forward into his chest. His arms embrace you, wrapping around your back to hold you upright, and with your ear by his breast you can hear his heartbeat. It’s fast. 

“Even when I’m a mess?” you ask. He hums in affirmation, the vibration of it akin to a purr. 

“Even then”. 

You tilt your head and he meets your gaze, barely a hair between you, so close you could count each eyelash. You’re anxious to touch him but not out of fear, moreso a sense of restlessness, yet you're wary of overstepping; it feels good to see those same emotions reflected back at you. 

“Me too,” you recite his confession back to him, “for as long as I’ve known you”. All the times you’d thought the worst of yourself, he had been there, and he had loved you. 

“Can I kiss you?” his irises are slowly being swallowed by the pupil, tongue dipping to wet his lower lip. You nod with bated breath — there’s nothing you want more. 

He leans forward, lingering as your noses brush awkwardly and he laughs, turning your mouths until they fit. There’s sanctity in the way he kisses you, palms to your cheeks, cradling you as if you really are something precious. 

The first is relatively innocent. You part only to say his name, and it leads him right back to you, this time with lips agape to take you deeper. All the effort put into repressing your yearning over the years springs forward, like a band pulled taut and released. His tongue tentatively licks into your mouth, searching for any discomfort and finding none. 

Your hands lift to grope along the length of his arms to his chest, allowing yourself to touch everything he’d give you. He smiles languidly against your mouth, breathing a laugh into the kiss, and arousal pools honey-thick in your belly. It continues like this —  things like time and surroundings are held in suspension, content just to have and hold one another. 

“Shin,” you sigh happily, the name still muffled by his mouth. 

He pulls away, a soft wet sound as you separate, a hand still cupping your cheek while the other threads into your hair. “Why’d you stop?”

“We should talk about this,” he murmurs, thumb stroking the skin beneath your eye as he ignores your groan, “m’not going any further til we do”.

“Why do you have to be so reasonable?” 

“Because I want to do right by ya”. Cat-like, you turn into his tender touch at the admission. You shouldn’t have expected anything less — it was Shinsuke after all. 

“Where would we start?” you sag with assent, feeling his chest shake as he laughs. 

“How about you tell me what’cha want?” lithe fingers curl to lightly scratch your scalp. The swell of his cheeks are blatantly pink, even under the low light of the sun flooding into the hallway. With enough time to collect your thoughts you manage to count twelve freckles; seven on the left and five on the right. His question is difficult to answer, not because you didn’t have one, but because you still weren’t sure you deserved it. 

Sensing your reluctance, he ducks to kiss your temple and clarifies: “Let’s say just for tonight. Where do you want this to go?”

Thinking in terms of the present was much easier. What you wanted now… all your mind could conjure was him, him, him. You wanted to kiss him again, to see parts of him you’d only ever imagined, to see the tan lines around the thick of his thighs. Still, admitting that was the hard part. 

“I want you,” he exhales an amused huff and you try not to pout, “don’t— you know I’m not good at asking for things”. 

His voice is low, slightly rough where the words are thick in his mouth, a glimmer of hunger beneath half lidded eyes. “Sorry, darlin’. How about I tell you what I want too?” 

You murmur agreeably, the nod of your head feeble. This was such uncharted territory for the both of you, you couldn’t understand how he was being so confident about it. “Tonight I want to make you feel good, an’ then tomorrow I want to wake up to your pretty face in the mornin’. That's it”. 

It was so simple, so honest. The heat in your belly deepens. “Then take me to bed,” you say. 

The futon is somehow softer than you remember, your body rolling back atop the sheets and ruining the perfectly lined edges as Shinsuke follows you to the head of the bed, mumbling sweet nothings into your ear as he goes. He moves the pillows to cushion your head, traversing a path of kisses from your cheek to the curve of your throat, giving no resistance when you pull him back to your mouth. 

The seams gradually seep into one another until your senses are clouded. He’s all you can think about, all you can feel, his weight heavy above you as your bodies rock together in tandem. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants, gently nipping your lower lip between his teeth, “you're sure this is okay?”

“More than okay,” you moan into his mouth as his cock presses tight against your sex, the friction relieving some of the ache, “are you—?”

“Fuck,” he undulates his hips when he feels your thighs tighten. “Yeah. I wanna make you cum on my tongue, can I?”

You stutter out a plea and he moves, a little wide eyed and triumphant. “Let me know if y’need me to stop,” he says, carefully working the material of your pants down your legs and taking your underwear with them, “and make sure to tell me what ya like, right?”

He parts your knees and you throb at the feeling of his breath along your inner thighs, hooking them over his shoulders when he lowers further, hands squeezing appreciatively as he pauses to kiss every piece of you. Wanting to watch his expression, you support yourself on your elbows and see as he loosens his jaw to taste you. 

You shudder at the first roll of his tongue through your folds, relaxed and smooth, followed by a chaste kiss to your clit. He repeats the motions, testing different patterns and pressures. “Got such a sweet pussy,” he breathes, meeting your eyes as he circles your entrance, pressing himself impossibly close and fucking you with his mouth. It sounds so wet, both his spit and your arousal on his chin as he takes his time coaxing you into bliss. 

He’s purposely teasing you, observing your surface reactions and learning what you like just for the opportunity of giving you a little bit at a time. It’s unfairly good, hyper sensitive as your body coils tighter and tighter, yet never enough to crest. Your clit aches and the impatience is enough to set your embarrassment aside, so you reach to spread your folds for him. “Please Shin,” you whine. 

You feel him grin, giddiness bright in his eyes, “don’t worry, I’ll let ya cum sweetheart”. He gently sucks your clit between his lips and your chest rises with your hips as you arch into him, fists curling into the sheets at the push of a finger at your entrance. He sinks into you until you’ve taken him to the knuckle, languid as he strokes them upwards and out, his other hand tightening around your thigh once you begin to squirm. 

As you grow pliant, head tilting back into the pillow, his tongue grows tense and he massages tight circles around your clit with the tip. He finds the right rhythm and repeats it again and again until you’re teetering at the edge, waiting for the final push. His name catches in your throat, pitched and desperate, bearing down onto his wrist feverishly as you reach for it. 

“M’gonna cum,” the warning falls short as you moan, “fuck— Shin, you’re gonna make me cum”. 

He hums, the sound vibrating pleasantly against your clit. Your body seizes for a moment as your orgasm washes over you, back arched like the spine of a bow, and he doesn’t stop; tongue flickering back and forth unremittingly with fingers pumping in and out of your pussy as you pull him in. He keeps you ashore, gradually slowing his movements to guide you through each wave as it passes, until your muscles are completely pliant. 

He lowers your legs back onto the futon, hand slipping beneath your shirt and pushing it up to fold below your breasts, appreciating the length of your stomach as he makes his way to you. “Incredible… looked so beautiful… did so well for me, love,” he kisses each individual praise into your skin until he comes into view, arms braced either side of your head. 

“Still feel okay?” he kisses your lips briefly and you drag him back into another, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

“Yeah. I’m…” you exhale, laughing breathlessly into his mouth, “...you’re unfairly good at that”. 

He joins you, the exhilaration contagious. This was your childhood best friend, and your arousal was on his cheeks. “I’ve had some practice,” he admits in amusement, though there is a faint pinch in his brow when a thought visibly crosses his mind, “you have too, right?”

“I have. Just not for a while,” you reach to smooth out the crease, sending him what you hope is a comforting smile, “my libido was… nonexistent, at some points”.

He shifts on his knees between your legs, cock hard and straining in his jeans, yet his expression is nothing but understanding as he nods. “We can stop now, if ya feel like you’ve had enough,” he says. 

The statement almost makes you cry, overwhelmed not only because of the love that he bathes you in, but because something that should be common decency feels so monumental to you. “No,” you reply quietly, cradling his cheeks in both hands. You don’t think you could ever have enough of him. 

“I want you to fuck me”. 

“I don’t have any condoms,” he warns, “I wasn’t expectin’ this to happen now, so—”

“If you’re comfortable pulling out I’m fine with it,” you gingerly suggest.

While he sits back to take off his shirt you pull your own over your head, discarding it onto the floor beside the futon and crossing your arms across your chest as you wait. The musculature of his abdomen shifts as he bares himself, revealing fine curls of hair between his pecs, more leading from his navel into the waistband of his jeans. 

The groan of relief as he undoes the top button spreads straight to your pussy, thighs squeezed together to smother the feeling only to begin reflexively rubbing them in search of friction. You knew from the clothes he wore that he wasn’t as lean as he’d been in highschool, having gained not only muscle but some fat, too. It made him look broader — thicker.  

It’s hard to shut down that line of thought as it starts. You wonder if he sees you differently too; perhaps you aren’t what he’d pictured you to be, or what he wanted. But with the dulcet call of your name you meet his heated gaze, watching him palm at his cock while he drinks you in.

“Don’t hide yaself,” he moves to gently pry your arms away from your breasts, “look so beautiful laid out for me like this. Wanna see all of you”. 

And with the reverence he directs at you, your insecurities are smothered. “You too Shin,” you wrap your fingers around his cock, still tucked in his briefs, and enjoy how he bucks into the touch. “Let me see all of you, too”.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk, and he nods as if he were heeding your instruction. Reaching between your bodies, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, dragging the fabric over his cock and down his thighs. 

Saliva pools beneath your tongue at the sight of him. His dick springs back, hard and subtly curved to the left, the tip blushing rouge. The base is covered with neatly trimmed hair, dark rather than silver, and his stomach jumps as you run your finger through it from his stomach to his pelvis. “Even your cock is pretty,” you comment under your breath. 

“I can hear ya,” he murmurs, crowding into your space until skin meets skin, shaping himself around you until he’s the only thing you see. You tilt up your chin wordlessly and he kisses you docile, hands trembling where they’re curled against his chest. His cock is hot against your thigh, and you roll your hips up to encourage him. 

You cinch your legs either side of his waist, feet hooked lazily at his back as you slip your arms around his neck. “Make me feel good like you promised,” you grin. 

Humming with fond amusement he repositions himself, his cock sliding smoothly through your arousal, plucking the soft gasp from your mouth as he bumps against your clit. “I’ve got ya sweetheart,” he lines the tip up and you feel yourself clench in anticipation. 

Swaddled by the weight of his body and supported by the thick plush futon beneath, he sinks into you slowly as if he’s savouring it, just as he does with every meal. Patient as always, he waits a few moments for you to adjust, littering featherlight pecks along the curve of your neck. He feels girthier than he looks, but the stretch is more gratifying than it is painful — the drag of his cock as he pulls out even moreso.

“Fuck, baby,” your hand slides into his hair, cradling the back of his head as he begins to find pace. Your breasts shake with each thrust, nipples pebbling under his touch, attention attracted to the way they bounce. He looks mystified, his jaw relaxed to take each pant as it comes, a deep groan reverberating in the back of his throat. 

You tighten around him and something in his eyes brightens wildly. Excitement, giddiness. He leans his forehead to yours, sharing your breath and swallowing your moans, pushing deeper until he finds the rhythm that has your fingers curling against his scalp. “There?” he mutters, the baritone of his voice echoing through you, “doing so well for me, love. Got no idea how good ya feel”. 

The space between your mouths fills with murmured praises, disjointed curses, the call of his name over and over. He speaks low to you; erring on a whisper, as if they’re only for you to hear, and the intimacy of it settles warm in your chest. 

“Please don’t stop. Keep— just like that,” you gasp as you feel the familiar pull through your centre, simultaneously pliant and coiled while you try to meet his pace. A hand falls heavily at your hip and he holds you still, unrelenting even when he begins to curl into himself, rasping that he’s close. 

“Let me feel you cum on my cock,” he shudders as your thighs tremble at either side of him, nipples grazing the soft hair on his chest as you keen, digging your heels harshly into the small of his back once you feel yourself slip. Pleasure floods through your senses, brows pinched in awe and momentarily weightless as the second orgasm hits you.

“That’s it darlin’. Shit,” you can barely hear him over the blood rushing in your ears, “need to pull out. Feels too— m’gonna cum”. 

“Please,” you blink away the haze as you run your hands along his shoulders and back, relishing the clear desperation in his expression. Your feet unhook, limbless as all rigidity bleeds from your body, and with a final groan he’s able to push himself away from you. 

You barely have time to miss him as he pulls out, left pulsing around emptiness as you ride out the minor aftershocks. Knelt between your legs with a hand fisted around his wet cock and his chin tucked to his sternum, Shinsuke leans over you in haste. After three rough strokes, he cums across your stomach. 

His shoulders rise and fall with exertion, blush tinted with a golden hue from the late afternoon sun. He sags forward onto his clean hand to support his weight over you, and as the clarity returns to his eyes a boyish smile works its way onto his face. He looks smitten — happy. This must be what afterglow is supposed to feel like. 

“That was…” he huffs a laugh, “...incredible”.

You brush the damp hair from his forehead tenderly, incognisant of the cum drying to your skin. Somehow, you think you want to cry again. “Better than you imagined?” you tease, exhaustion befalling you. 

Perceptive as always, he notices. “Better than I ever imagined,” he repeats in agreement, turning to kiss the inside of your wrist where your hand has slipped to cradle his cheek, “you wait here nice an’ sweet and I’ll get’cha cleaned up”. 

You don’t want him to go but you trust him to come back. And he does, swiftly moving through the house with a damp cloth while naked as the day he was born. He must’ve run it under lukewarm water, gentle as he wipes away the mess he made on you. “Feelin’ okay? Are you sore or anything?” he asks. 

“No,” just satiated, you think. Your thoughts are quiet and your limbs are heavy. 

“Yer all worn out,” once satisfied he slips the sheets out from underneath you and covers you up, cloth discarded to the side in favour of running his fingers through your hair, “get some rest, just an hour or so”. 

Already halfway there, you surrender to the inevitable, opening your eyes to glance up at him as you reach for his hand. “Stay?” you mumble. 

He rubs his thumb along the back of your knuckles. “Couldn’t get rid of me if ya tried”. 

His side of the futon is still warm when you wake, but he isn’t there, and the room is dark. You roll onto your back and wince, suddenly feeling some discomfort. Through the sliding doors you hear movement; the sounds of oil in a pan and ceramic cups being set at the table. It spurs you into consciousness and you push away the covers, glancing back to set them neatly by the corners just as he had done before, then make your way to the kitchen after getting dressed. 

You’re met by a light western style dinner, something with egg, though you aren't sure. Still sleep mussed, you kneel and settle onto your cushion with the tatami soft beneath your shins, and as he places your food down he leans to kiss your cheek. The heat lingers there and crawls to the tips of your ears. 

“How can… how can you just do that?”

You’d expected some kind of awkwardness or stumbling, as would be natural on the path from childhood friends to a romantic relationship. There were bends and forks that you no longer needed to be weary of — still, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t instinctively hesitate after all the years of ignoring them. 

But Shinsuke only smiles, warm wrinkles of amusement at your flustered question. His eyes are bright as they meet yours, slightly squinted and sincere as he speaks. 

“It’s easy,” he says, “because it’s you”.

I will have your heart.

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How and where they like to kiss you

Characters: Zhongli, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao x gn!reader (seperate)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 750+

Masterlist

Zhongli

Zhongli LOVES giving you forehead kisses, especially if you’re outdoors. He will just pull you close when you’re standing somewhere and press his lips to your forehead or your temple for a few moments. Hu Tao always teases him about it but he doesn’t mind because it makes him think of you, and whenever he thinks about you or is with you, he’s content. He’s not against longer, proper kisses, as long as you’re in private, but he thinks of it as impolite to do so when in public. There he will only softly and quickly kiss your temple if you’re saying goodbye to each other for whatever reason. If you’re at home though, he turns into a completely different person from the reserved persona outside. He, as long as you’re fine with it, wants to always be touching you, no matter what either of you are doing. If you have paperwork to do, he will sit by your side and talk to you a bit and you do the same to him. During this, he also regularly kisses your forehead, temple and cheeks. Once you’re done, he kisses you properly on the lips. Whenever he passes you, he also kisses your head because he likes being taller than you. And if you end up being taller than him, he contemplates changing his form a little to be the taller one again. Or he results in kissing your jaw instead.

Kazuha

He’s soft with you. Even though he is a samurai, he is also a poet. And that’s the part you feel when he kisses you. He holds you like you’ll break if he hugs you too tightly. He loves kissing your nose while his hands are resting on your hips or waist. If he could, he’d spend hours doing this every day, but sadly, you both have tasks to do.

If you’re a member of the Crux Fleet, be prepared to randomly hear a quiet warning that it’s him and then be swept up and have a quick kiss pressed to your nose, lips or cheeks by Kazuha before he’s gone just as quickly as he came. This is his routine and if he has to go one day without doing so because you’re too busy, he WILL sulk around until you pay attention to him.

Scaramouche

He is not affectionate. At all. If anybody ever asks him about it, he will just respond that he hates it. With you, however, he’s a bit like a cat. Secretly, he loves your affection, but he will never admit it and will lash out if anybody points it out. When you kissed his cheek for the first time, he went “disgusting, do it again”. He will not kiss you in public and he prefers to just press his lips to your hand or to your palm, being very careful while he does so. That’s the only affection you’re getting from him. If your relationship has been going strong for multiple months, he might kiss your hand in more public spaces, although it’s still only in non-crowded spaces and when he’s sure no one is watching, although he might kiss your cheeks and sometimes even your lips in private. During your relationship he grew to love the hand kisses so much, because it showed him you would wait until he was comfortable, so now he does them for the sake of the sentimental value more than because he’s too reserved for anything else.

Xiao

Very shy with affection. No kisses are happening in any place that is not completely private. Literally gets so embarrassed if anybody sees you. He is also not too fond of you kissing his cheek in greeting when you’re not on his balcony. If you are in private, however, and your relationship is not as new to him, he becomes more affectionate. He likes when you kiss his temple when he’s lost in his head and makes sure to return the favour whenever you are the one feeling down. He peppers soft kisses on various parts of your face whenever you two are in private and loves if you do the same. It gives him a feeling of this relationship being mutual and not a one-sided effort, which was what he feared as he didn’t know how to keep relationships going before. But you taught him and he’s so grateful for that, which he shows by protecting you, both from the outside world and your own head, for which kisses are the perfect solution.

Zhongli x Kaslana!reader hc part 2

After getting used to Zhongli's presence and after a couple years past, he noticed that you hadn't aged since he befriended you. He had no clue what you were but you insist that you were a normal human being despite....your strange training you often do outside the city with your weapon.

You were there when he saved Xiao, thinking little much of it but the young child has completely attached himself to you after his old master's failed attempt to get him back, he watched as you didn't beat an eye as you slayed the horrible man with a single slice of your lance.

Honestly, you felt an urge to protect him since you felt familiar with this feeling, like an older sibling. Although you knew you were a single child and had no family on Liyue Harbor, you treated him like he was family.

"Xiao, hold your weapon with a firm grip." You said, watching the young boy struggling to hold the spear up. Honestly, you couldn't believe that such a young boy was capable of being called a demon but you knew that he was called that due to him eating the dreams of people against his will.

Approaching him, you carefully place a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, looking up at you with fear in his eyes. You soften upon seeing this, sending him a smile to reassure that you wouldn't hurt him. "How about we go get something to eat? You must be starving." He nods at this quietly, watching as you took the spear and turned into speaks of light as you put it away. "Come on." He grabbed ahold of your hand and walked beside you, his eyes casting downwards.

"The inn is coming out nicely, isn't it?" You said, looking up at the inn that was nearly halfway finished. (Idk when it built, don't come after me-)

When it came to the other archons, they weren't in the slightest suspicious of you since during that time, Zhongli was at his prime age where he had that little mean attitude, so if he could deal with you than they could as well.

You and Venti, besties for life although you couldn't help but tease him when he whined about not having wine. Laughing when you held the bottle of wine above his head since you were taller than him but a lot and he gave you the stink eyes after using Anemo powers to get his wine back. You can recall a bit before he suddenly disappeared a time where he was literally taking half the food on the table in the middle of the lunch with the other archons.

You and Makoto, the electro archon, you two understood each other quite well. You also met her sister, who was like her shadow and deal with the more fighting aspects of protecting their precious Inazuma. When she died, you blamed yourself to this very day, you had a chance to save her and yet, you didn't so you couldn't bear facing Ei. You stood a few feet away as she weep, cradling her sister in her last moments before you collapsed from blood loss. The effects of the prototype abyss flower was used to it limits that day, nearly killing you like Cecelia.

The rest of the archons, you were close too and grieved when the Dendro archon was killed in that battle like Makoto. The group only seemed to come apart after that, Venti disappeared to who knows, Ei went to take her sisters place as the electro archon and went on about eternity, the tsarista turned in a cold person, having no love left for her people. The rest just kept to their selves as well.

500 years later after the destruction of the great nation, you still wandered Liyue Harbor by Zhongli's side as his lover, in fear of almost losing you that day, he confessed two months after your coma due to losing too much blood.

Though when the day came that he proposed that you two should retire, you opposed the idea, encouraging to do so himself if he wished but you wished to oversee Liyue just a bit more.

Your memories for the last 2000 thousand years have yet to return, only recollecting that you had a mother and father although those memories didn't match up with Liyue or Teyvat in general. Memories of walking around festivals and parties that felt different. Usually when you tried too hard to think of any more memories, you suffered bad headaches that Zhongli advised to not remembering but you felt like another part of yourself was missing.

"Lady Y/n," you turn your head slightly to see Lady Ningguang approaching you as you stared out into the seas just where Morax was announced dead by her. You could see the pitiful expression on her face as she bowed her head before you but you brush it off, not in the mood for formalities at the moment. This whole show pissed you off as it is. "My deepest regards, it must saddened you about the death of your lover." It's been a day since then.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at even the mention of him, you smiled at her. "Thank you, this city will move on with or without him, no one can stop time nor can things go unchanged." You stare, your eyes wondering to a familiar building below and you could see Hu Tao doing something before she looked up, spotted you and waved. Waving back at her, you let out a sigh.

"Ningguang, I won't interfere with Liyue Harbor anything although if there is any dangers that you cannot face, I'll be there to protect this place when the time comes." She looks over at you, staring in silence before nodding her head.

"Of course, you rest knowing that Liyue Harbor is in good hands." Giving her one last smile, you turn back and walk away from her, leaving her to her thoughts. Walking past the people who tried to get your attention you press forward, not bothering answering any questions as you made your way to the Funeral Parlor where Hu Tao awaits you.

"Y/n! So sorry to hear what happened with the Lord of Geo."

"Thank you, although the old man was getting tired of it, now he can rest I guess." You said shrugging your shoulders, Hu Tao gave a little smirk at this.

"Oya, you call him a old man so that means you're an old lady too?" She teased, making you chuckle at this.

"In a way, yes." You go along with her, it's been a while since you had a good laugh with her. She laughs at this before spotting Zhongli walking towards you two."

"Mr. Zhongli, are you done preparing the funeral for the Lord of Geo?" She asks, giving a glance at you to see how you reacted but to her surprised, you simply looked away from him.

A scowl look on your face.

"Hu Tao," you said after a few minutes, seeming noticing a few of your personal guards approaching right behind Zhongli. She looks up at you, "I'm afraid our day together will be cut short, I have urgent matters to attend to." She frowns at this, not wanting her favorite old person to leave just yet. But atlas, she knew you had a duty to do.

"Come back when you have time." You nod and walk towards the guards.

Zhongli's face lights up at the sight of you approaching him and just as he's about to greet you, you pass past him.

"What's the situation?" You says and he turns his head to see who you're talking about.

He knew he kinda fucked up his relationship with you, since you didn't expect to him to literally fake his own death. You thought he would just casually say, "hey, I'm gonna retire, it's been nice and all!" But nope!

More work for you, yay.....

Anyways, you respected his decision just not the way he handled it, especially when the traveler and a certain orange haired told you what happened behind the scenes. You only sighed, the traveler knew the reaction when you witness Morax's death was genuine when he saw you rush over, checking his dragon form with a face filled with panic.

The way lady Ningguang had to peel you away and comfort you was hard enough to watch after the realized who you were.

Your tears didn't last fortunately after Hu Tao invited you that night for tea only to see Zhongli in the same room. Since then, you've been giving him the cold shoulder.

I think the next part will actually be a whole chapter, maybe the second to last part of this hc

Masterlist

aaitl : [a story for the ages]

summary; it was a very big surprise to xiao and ganyu that they would be meeting the next adeptus in line. especially when the next adeptus is a child.

genre; fluff, this is just family, i need emotional support from liyue god family, dad! zhongli, child! reader, ALL PLATONIC, zhongli is a doting dad and i will die on that hill, dragon hybrid! reader, xiao is just a grumpy older brother, angst (if you squint,,, like really hard), i swear to god if someone comments peepaw zhongli i will cry /j

word count; 1.05k

masterlist | < previous | next >

[gender neutral]

warnings: none

the child is still 1 year old :)

a/n; slight filler with some more lore on little spirit reader before they became a dragon <3 it took me a while to pick back up on this series, please forgive me and i hope you enjoy

you never understood the concept of family. you were but a mere spirit who only watched over a whole village once upon a time, so how much did you really know? even zhongli had called you very young for your age as a spirit. he had mentioned that this was expected to be your form since your spirit years translated to human years. you really knew nothing. it was a scary realization as you thought about it for a little too long. you nearly bursted out in tears of fear, upon the revelation, knowing that you knew nothing about the world you were put into because of some selfish wish of yours.

zhongli seemed to pick up on your lack of excitement today as you had been held by him the whole day without complaint or whines from you. heck, you even tolerated childe as you rested in zhongli’s arms. it was very concerning for him, especially when it was hard to communicate to you in your current baby state.

“my dear y/n, what’s wrong?” it only took those words from your parental figure to make you start sobbing. hands smacking against your eyes in a weak attempt to wipe any tears and snot that was dripping down your face as you could only speak in warbled unintelligible words. “oh my poor baby..” before you even knew it, he was holding you ever so gently, speaking so softly and drying your tears the best he could. he finally understood the pain of being a parent to such young children. he couldn’t stand to see you be so sad and have him be unable to fix it. he wished he knew what to do, he could only comfort you until you would settle down. “i’m sorry i cannot help you..” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours as if your thoughts would move over to his.

your body was fuzzy with warmth, it felt… familiar. where have you felt this warmth?

your formless self floating with the wind and checking every mine in the bustling village. the warmth.. it was so nice.. the chattering of villagers wanting either riches for themselves or family, you remember it all.

you miss it so much. but then you remember the families.. family.. you wanted that so badly. but you had that with zhongli now. right? that’s his warmth. you could feel it. you always have. why did it feel so different yet so familiar now? you can feel yourself settle down with every calm word he speaks. “you are not the spirit you were before. you are not alone.” you can feel his fingers gently tap against your horns and rub your hair. “this world is not just yours alone to experience. i am here with you.” you relax in his arms as he brushes his fingers through your little flecks of growing hair.

“are you feeling better now?” he asked, watching as you look up at him with teary eyes. “my poor dragon, i’m here.” he muttered, “would you like your blanket?” you manage to blubber out something akin to a yes, letting zhongli rest you against his chest. he's gentle with you, scared that you might break like glass, wrapping your soft f/c blanket around your tiny little body. somehow the cocoon-like feeling makes you feel better, you start to settle into the fluff of the blanket as you let out something close to a purr. "would you like to take a nap, dear? or do you want to take a walk with me? oh, but i'm not really sure if you would be okay with going out after so much crying.." you can only blink at him slowly, barely mustering something close to a sound of agreement.

"i think you would be better off with a nap." he decided, walking over to the small library corner his home had and sitting in the large comfy chair. he grabbed a quilt blanket, laying it over his lap before he carefully grabbed a book. "i hope you don't mind me reading to you." and read he did, reading the modern day books he had brought as you rest in his arms. but one particular story rung clear to you.

"this is the story of a spirit living with humans. though maybe not in the way that you would expect." you can feel zhongli's beating heart and the rumbles of his chest while he speaks as you rest on his chest. it nearly lulls you to a deep sleep but something tells you to stay up just a little longer to hear his story. "back in an old village, one that bustled with children and adults, families lived and mined many ores for the sake of mora. however, with the mineshafts came some concerning dangers, whether it be collapsing rocks or lethal injuries. but there was a spirit."

he paused to look at you, your eyes glossy with curiosity and wonder as you wait for his next words. a gentle smile paints his face, his hand moving to rub your cheek just for a moment before he continues to read.

"there was a spirit that protected the village. this spirit would keep the monsters at bay and the dangers of cave mining away from the peaceful village. no one could hear the spirit but everyone could feel the love and care it had put into protecting the village." you can feel the scales on your cheeks puff out, not in frustration this time, but in sheepish pride.

did people really feel your presence protecting them? did they really feel the love you wished to give to the families for giving you a chance to be the spirit you wanted to be?

“while their legacy was not for long, many souls rested happily knowing that even when they left the village, there would be a spirit protecting them in their lives to keep them safe. hm.. sounds familiar, am i correct, my little one?” his eyes glint with mischief and smugness as he watches you squirm in your blanket cocoon, knowing that this was indeed your story he had just told to you.

“i think that’s enough story for you, dear. do rest my child. i will be here for you when you wake up once again.”

~rainbow bangtan~

Keep reading

Forever Immortal beloveds P1

Yn stood in the middle of a fight between their Brother and an enemy, yelling for them to halt several times but no one listened. It wasn’t wise to go to war with the Netherworld.

Keep reading

o’ heartless woman

chpt. 1: in which yoongi seeks his fortune

based on howl’s moving castle, the film by studio ghibli and the novel by diana wynne jones

→ 🌟 pairing: ot7 x fem.mc

→ 🌿 genre: howl’s moving castle AU, slowburn (?), fluff, bit o’ angst, eventual smut

→ 🔥 word count: 5.3k

→ 🗝️ summary: yoongi did not ask to be hexed. he did not ask for you, a reclusive sorceress, to wander into his shop and take an interest in his work. he did not ask for a vengeful, jealous wizard to cast a spell on him, turning him into an old man, and he most definitely did not ask to stumble upon your magical moving castle and be coaxed into making a deal with a mischievous fire demon to save your soul. and above all, he most certainly, most definitely, did not ask to become attached to you along the way.

→ 🔮 content warnings: sorceress!mc, apprentice!jungkook, fire demon!hoseok, cursed!yoongi, wizard of the waste!jimin, profanity

→ 🕸️ a/n: first chapter! you don’t have to be familiar with howl’s moving castle to understand the story (but it’s an incredible film and novel so you should look into it anyways lol). some lines are direct/indirect quotes from the movie and novel, all credit goes to the original creators. please reblog and comment your thoughts 👉👈 keep the tumblr fanfic community alive and engage with writers pretty please!

The castle is restless today. Rolling hills and swaying grasses rush by through the bathroom window’s smudged panes, all blanketed by a thick layer of fog. You can even see a faint cluster of gable-roofed houses in the distance.

“Hoseok!” you call out, bounding down the stairs.

The face in the fireplace looks up at you with an expression of feigned shock.

“Yes?” he replies, playfully innocent, but the mischief in his voice sparks just like his flaming orange hair.

“Why are we so close to town? I told you to move the castle North.”

Hoseok just smiles that near-blinding smile, his teeth white hot flames in his mouth.

“Don’t you know? You have to go to Folding Valley today.”

Keep reading

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon!au, wyvern!yoongi, human/herbalist!reader,

warning(s)!!: isolation/alienation, mentions of war, injuries/blood/violence, dragon boy yoongles is stuck in a trap bc he’s dumb, y/n is so sO pure, protective dragon yoonyoon, villagers physically bully y/n a lot :(, unfair situations, y/n takes so much shit like a champ she deserves an award, dragon boy is a dragon for the first half of this (sorry, not sorry), don’t be scared there’s actual humor and wholesome stuff too :D, slow burn (kinda)?  

w.count: 17.7k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: T]

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: i literally haven’t sat down to write fanfiction in over a month bc my brain was fried and i got sucked balls deep into a fandom of an anime i dont even watch (yet). It took me three hours to edit this bc i pass tf out, pls be easy on me LOL

A shrill whine echoed through the woodland area. Bouncing off trees, echoing in caves, spooking off wildlife of rodents and critters that crept along the ground with far too many spindly legs.  Rustling in the wind, entangling with the leaves that blew and then erupting when a campfire crackled, settling in it’s burning pit of wood and stone.  

-x-x-x-

You shot awake in bed, the morning light peeking in through your bedroom window that was covered in a beginning to tear curtain.  You breathed out a heavy sigh as you flopped back down onto your mattress that squeaked at your movement.  You really should be getting a new bed sometime soon. This one was old and did nothing for your pressure points or back while you slept.  What was the point of a good night rest when you wake up feeling like you just wrestled a bear and lost? 

Keep reading

No Place He’d Rather Be

Pairing: Daycare Teachers!Sope 

Genre: The Fluffiest of Fluff| Domestic Vibes

Word Count: 5.3k

Prompt: Chocolate Covered Faces

Rating: G

Summary:  Yoongi gets called to help out at Jin’s daycare and the following is a small, fluffy oneshot of him realizing Hoseok’s wonderful at childcare and that he’s fallen head over heels for the man.

A/N: @apotatomashedbybts I’m so sorry it took me so long ; w ; this was changed and revised so many times but I hope the end result is still enjoyable. This was almost a Taekook easter bunny thing but i missed the window oops. Please enjoy and feedback is always welcome~

AO3 Link

Yoongi sighed as he nervously ran his hands down his pants leg. Today was his first day as a helper for a daycare owned by his close friend. He normally wasn’t much of a people person, and high-energy kids would surely take a lot out of him, but Jin, the owner and his friend, had all but begged him to help out for at least a month while he tried to find someone to fill in.

Worldwide Smiles was the product of all of Jin’s love and hard work, having invested all of his time and money to open a large daycare in Seoul that took in elementary school-aged kids. Jin had hired several close friends to take care of the kids with Namjoon and himself as the caretakers for the children from the fourth and fifth grade. Taehyung and Jimin for the first through third grades, while Jungkook and Hoseok had taken over the children in both pre-k and kindergarten.

Jungkook was going off to college, and since he had signed up for morning and afternoon classes, he wouldn’t be able to assist Hoseok anymore until he graduated.

That’s where Yoongi came in, as per Jin’s request. The older man had asked his long time friend to step in until he could find someone to permanently take up the position.

Yoongi stopped outside of the room with the sun painted on the door, lips pursed as he heard the chaos unfolding inside spilling out into the brightly colored hall. He inhaled deeply and twisted the door handle, taking a step inside.

Almost immediately, a hand shot out in front of his face and he flinched, letting out a startled scream.

Keep reading

Poly!Namjin

Requested: anon asked: Hello! Can you do a poly!Namjin (Bts) and Poly relationship with N and Ken (Vixx)?❤️

Pairing: BTS Seokjin x Namjoon x Reader

Genre: poly!au, 1920s!au

Warnings:  drinking, blood and violence, swearing, probably minor historical inaccuracies

I got way off track writing this as I got so distracted just relearning about all the history. So sorry about the mini history lesson. I got a little over excited. I did force myself to not use much of the lingo though, as I doubt many people would understand that. Also thank you Airplane Pt 2 for gifting me with the perfect gif.

(This is almost 6000 words of complete and utter rubbish oops)

America in the 1920s

The Roaring Twenties

The First World War was over, bringing with it much social and politcal change

Women had the vote, jazz music was all the rage, automobiles were starting to fill the streets of more than just cities, mass media was on the rise

Celebrities started being born in Hollywood and on Broadway; names such as Coco Chanel, Josephine Baker, Charlie Chaplin and Babe Ruth were household names

But it was also known as the ‘Prohibition era’ thanks to the Volstead Act that was passed in October 1919 stating that all beverages over 0.5% were illegal; a way the government tried to lower crime rates

Not that it worked out that way of course, as with the prohibition came the rise of speakeasies, underground establishments used to sell alcohol

Keep reading

bonsai | oneshot

excerpt | where a bonsai plant brings you and your husband closer together.

pairing | mafia!namjoon x reader, arranged marriage!au

genre | fluff, extremely minor angst

warning/s | usage of guns and brief mentions of blood

lee’s notes | there weren’t much specifics on this request so i just assumed it’s the same arranged marriage trope as my other mafia aus! hopefully you guys aren't too tired of it yet T_T

word count | 4.6k words

go to | home / navi / m. list

NAMJOON WATCHES AS THE DOOR to his office slowly closes, the last of his meetings for the day finally over.

He lets out a sigh in relief and leans back in his chair, turning it towards the window directly to his right. The glass of the window took up practically the entire wall, giving him a perfect view of the garden outside.

As he scans through the lot, his eyebrows begin to furrow when he spots you crouched down nearby a pot of flowers. While you were free to roam anywhere you'd like, he never expected you to settle around the garden when there was also a library and a music room in the home as well.

He reels his chair back to reach for the telephone on his desk, swiftly dialing the number of the housekeeper.

"Hello?" A familiar voice answers.

"Hi Mrs. Jung, this is Namjoon."

A little bit of rustling is heard from the other end before the lady responds. "Ah, Mr. Kim. Would you be requiring my assistance anywhere?"

Namjoon slowly reels his chair towards the window, gazing at you while you watered the plants. "No, I just wanted to ask you about something. I'm staring outside my window and it seems as though (Y/N) is tending to some flowers in the garden." He explains, "Do I need to hire another housemaid assist you?"

Mrs. Jung lets out a soft chuckle before responding, "Ah, there's no need for that Mr. Kim. I've been doing fine tending to them on my own but Mrs. Kim insists on helping. It seems as though she has quite an interest in helping the plants grow."

Namjoon raises his eyebrows in surprise, "Is that so?" He asks, more to himself.

But, Mrs. Jung, thinking it was addressed to her, chooses to respond. "Yes, Mr. Kim. I have informed her on multiple occasions that I do not require any assistance, but the young lady always tells me she wants to help."

Namjoon simply hums, noticing the small smile on your face as you watered the plants with care. His eyes unconsciously soften at the sight before he quickly snaps out of it, clearing his throat.

"Well, if it is what (Y/N) wants, then feel free to let her be." He says, taking his eyes off of you.

"Alright, Mr. Kim."

Namjoon makes sure to thank Mrs. Jung before he hangs up, diverting his attention back to the papers on his table.

The two of you had been married for over 5 days at this point, yet he couldn't find the time to talk to you after the wedding because of his numerous responsibilities as the leader.

He sighs and takes another glance at you through the window before looking back to his papers, shaking his head.

...

A few days past and you were back in the garden, happily spritzing the plants with as much water as they needed. It was quite a relaxing hobby, especially considering the rather violent nature of your family's business.

You grin when you feel Monnie, the house pet, snuggle into your side. The dog kept you company most of the time ever since you moved in, especially when you realized how fond he was of you.

"Hi Monnie," You coo, swooning at the way he leans onto your hand while you pet him.

He barks towards you, causing you to glance towards your hand. You chuckle when you realize he's referring to the water bottle you were holding. "Aigoo, do you want to get sprayed?"

Slowly, you bring your hand closer to the dog, swiftly spraying him with water. He barks happily, making you let out another laugh. He jumps before running away, a smile on your face as you shake your head.

You divert your attention back to the leaves of the plants, suddenly hearing someone clear their throat from behind you. Assuming it was just Mrs. Jung, you let out a chuckle, knowing she was probably just going to nag at you again.

"Mrs. Jung, I'm telling you, I used to tend to a garden in my former household. You don't need to—"

You pause when you turn around, meeting your Namjoon's slightly intimidating gaze. Your smile falters for a moment before you replace it with a more subtle one as you guide yourself up to your feet.

"Namjoon," You say, licking your lips in nervousness. "What brings you here?"

His gaze slowly eases as he simply gestures behind you, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "I uh—I just saw you from my office and I thought I'd drop by."

Your mouth makes an 'o' shape as you nod, "Oh, okay."

The two of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments before Namjoon clears his head, pointing towards the bottle of water in your hand.

"So, do you need any help?" He asks, causing your eyes to slightly widen.

You blink twice before finally replying, "Y-You want to help me?" You ask, somewhat taken aback.

Namjoon softly chuckles at this before nodding, a small amused smile on his lips. "I have the hour off and there isn't really anything better to do in the house." He explains, "Besides, you seemed to be having a lot of fun."

You slightly blush at his remark, a smile creeping onto your lips as well. "Well, I do need some help plucking out the dead leaves on this plant." You say with a chuckle, pointing towards the pot on the ground.

Namjoon smiles and nods, "Lead the way, then."

You bite back a grin and motion for him to take a seat next to you before you begin to teach him how to carefully pluck off the dead leaves. He simply listens with a small smile, nodding to let you know he understood.

Once you two got into the groove of things, the plants became the main focus of both your attention. You both worked in silence, the sounds of leaves crunching filling the atmosphere.

Namjoon breaks the silence after a few moments, slyly glances your way. "So," He starts, "You said you had a garden in your former household?"

You shyly chuckle before nodding, keeping your gaze on the plants in front of you. "Yeah, it was just a nice way to take my mind off of all the—well, I think you know what I mean." You respond, Namjoon nodding.

"I kind of get it, to be honest." He says, "After awhile, it really just gets suffocating to be in the environment we're in. So, it's nice to have a little escape from it all."

You smile at this, happy to see that you two have a mutual understanding on the topic. "How about you?" You ask, briefly looking at him. "What's your escape?"

You two continue to engage in light conversation, occasionally letting out laughs at each other's remarks. As you both talked, you don't notice Yoongi and Seokjin walk up to the garden entrance, disbelief on both their faces.

"Is that Namjoon? In the garden?" Seokjin asks, blinking.

Yoongi tilts his head to the side before squinting and letting out a chuckle. "It is." He says, amused.

The older member lets out a scoff, a smile forming on his face. "Never in my life did I ever think I'd see Kim Namjoon watering plants in the garden." He mumbles, shaking his head.

As they both begin to approach you two, a pair of hands suddenly stops them, causing the two to turn around.

"Mrs. Jung? Is something wrong?" Yoongi asks, slightly confused when he makes eye contact with her.

The housemaid simply sighs before glancing behind them, watching as you and Namjoon continued tending to the plants. "Unless it is urgent, I think we should leave the newlyweds alone. They haven't spent much time together since the ceremony." She says, a solemn expression on her face.

The two men slowly nod, looking at one another for a few seconds before coming to an agreement. "Well, I guess we can wait awhile." Seokjin says, patting Yoongi's shoulder.

The latter voices out his agreement, making Mrs. Jung let out a small grateful smile. "Thank you two very much. I'm sure Mr. Kim will appreciate your patience later on." She says, making the two others smile.

They bid their goodbyes to Mrs. Jung before they all go their separate ways, the entire interaction complete unbeknownst by the couple.

Meanwhile, you watched Namjoon chop off some stems with a pair of scissors, letting out a soft chuckle at the focused expression on his face. "Here, it's easier this way." You say, moving closer to him to demonstrate.

As you place your hands on the stem, Namjoon slyly gazes towards you, unable to stop himself from admiring how happy you looked as you dealt with the plants. He made a mental note to visit you here more often, seeing as you looked much brighter under the sunlight than under the rather gloomy lights of your home's dining hall.

"—then, you just gently pull it apart." You say, causing Namjoon to snap out of his gaze.

He nods and smiles at you gratefully, "Thank you, (Y/N)." He says, watching as you smiled back before moving back to the plant you were working on.

While you worked, Namjoon glances towards you, thinking of how to start another conversation.

"Does it get lonely?" He asks, glancing towards you after a few moments. "You know, spending time here in the garden by yourself."

You let out a small sigh before glancing towards him, a small smile on your face. "Well, it was when I first moved here," You respond, looking down towards the plant you were tending to. "But, after awhile, I guess I found comfort in it. Besides, I have Monnie to keep me company anyways."

Namjoon lets out a chuckle at this, nodding his head. But before he could reply, his eyes quickly widen when he sees your peaceful expression contort into one of shock.

"Woah, are you alright?" He asks, eyeing you worriedly.

You bite your lip and nod, looking down towards the knife you were using to cut the stems of the plant. "Yeah, I think I just accidentally cut myself."

His eyes travel towards the open wound on your finger, anxiously watching the blood drip out of the wound and onto the ground.

Namjoon sighs and stands up, motioning for you to do the same. "Come on, let's come inside so we can treat it."

You nod and stand up, following him out of the garden and into the house. But, instead of leading you to Mrs. Jung like you expect him to, you're confused to see him lead you towards another direction.

"Oh—aren't we heading to Mrs. Jung?" You ask, blinking.

Namjoon shakes his head at you, putting a hand on the small of your back. "There's no need to, I have some medical supplies in my office." He responds, causing your eyes to slightly widen.

You halt in your steps, making him do the same. "I-I would hate to hassle you over a simple cut, though. I can treat it myself when I finish up downstairs." You reply, a small frown on your face.

Namjoon sighs, "(Y/N)-ah, we're married. Helping you should be on the top of my priorities." He says, motioning for you to continue walking.

You look at him hesitantly, not knowing how to respond. Then, you slowly nod and continue walking, making Namjoon inwardly sigh in relief.

He leads you to his office and walks you inside, closing the door open behind him. "Take a seat on my chair, I'll just get the supplies from the cabinet." He says, giving you a small smile.

"Okay." You mumble before moving towards his chair and sitting down.

You take in your surroundings as you wait, this being your first time in his office since you moved in. The interior was relatively dark, with most of the structures in the room being tall. You subconsciously shrink into Namjoon's leather chair, watching as he stood up from one corner of the room.

He walks toward you and places a bottle of antiseptic on the table together with a cotton swab and a band-aid. When he sees you staring at the objects, he sheepishly smiles. "I've had a fair share of injuries in the past, so I like to just have them here in case something happens." He explains, making you nod.

He leans against the table and grabs the antiseptic before opening the bottle. "You have a nice office." You blurt out, Namjoon letting out a small smile.

"Thanks. I spend most of my time here so I did my best to make sure it was somewhat neat." He replies, eyes trained onto the bottle of antiseptic as he places some onto the cotton swab.

You bite your lip nervously when he puts the bottle on the table and turns towards you expectantly. "Ready?" He asks, looking towards you.

"I guess so," You mumble in response, giving him your hand.

He smiles at you encouragingly, gently placing your hand on top of his which, happened to be slightly larger. The two of you notice the detail, letting out soft chuckles. "You have very cute hands." He teases.

You blush slightly, "Maybe yours are just big." You mumble in response, biting back a smile as Namjoon looks at you amusedly.

"Okay, uh—I think you can put the medicine now." You say after a few moments, eyes trained onto the wound.

Namjoon glances towards you, quickly noticing the nervous expression on your face. "It might hurt a bit but I'll try my best to make it quick."

You nod, taking a deep breath before the cotton swab comes into contact with your wound. You slightly wince, immediately feeling a sting on your hand.

"There you go," Namjoon mumbles, placing the swab on his table.

He fans the wound, letting the medicine dry a bit before wrapping it up with the band-aid. "All done." He says, looking at you with a smile.

You smile back, slowly taking your hand out of his. "Thank you, Namjoon."

...

After your last encounter with Namjoon, the two of you began to spend more time together. From simply greeting one another when you'd see him around the house, you two would now actively converse with one another. He would ask you about your day as he told you about his, sometimes even going as far as inviting you to his office for a quick coffee.

As you two slowly got closer, you thought it would be a good chance to return the favor for the time that he helped you treat one of your wounds. He had been cooped up in his office, clearly stressed about something that was happening in the business. So, to give him a little boost, you decided to bring him one of your favorite bonsai trees from the garden to display inside.

You nervously bit your lip before opening the door and peeking inside, smiling when you met Namjoon's gaze. He smiled back, eyebrows easing when he sees that it's just you outside the door.

"Come in." He says, nodding towards you.

You walk inside, about to close the door behind you when you feel something blocking it. You glance behind the door, chuckling as you see Monnie trying to come in as well.

When you open the door wider, the dog comes running in, quickly jumping into Namjoon's lap. The sight makes you laugh as you close the door behind you.

"So, what brings you here?" Namjoon asks, lightly petting Monnie.

You grin and raise up the small pot in your hands, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. "I got you a little gift." You say sheepishly, watching as his gaze moved from you to the plant in your hands.

"Is that a tree?" He asks, making you let out a chuckle.

"Yes, it's a bonsai tree. I noticed the last time I was here that you didn't really have any plants, so I thought you might appreciate a little friend." You explain, gauging his expression.

Namjoon blinks for a few moments before slowly smiling. "That's very nice of you, (Y/N)." He says, making you smile back.

You place the potted plant on top of one of Namjoon's many cabinets, glancing towards him. "Where do you want to put it?"

Namjoon hums and stands up, letting Monnie run free within the office as he walks towards you. "I think it would be nice to place by the window." He replies, motioning to a specific side of the room.

You nod before lifting it up, smiling thankfully at Namjoon when he helps you move it towards the glass window. The two of you place it in the corner of the room, where the bright greenness of the leaves perfectly contrasted the black wall behind it.

"It looks nice."

Namjoon nods his head in approval, glancing towards you. "The room feels a lot brighter now." He says, "Thank you again."

You sigh in relief, smiling back at him. "No problem."

He opens his mouth, as though to say something else, when suddenly, the phone on his table rings. He glances towards it before looking at you apologetically. "Sorry, just give me a minute."

You nod at him to answer it before crouching down to pet Monnie. Namjoon sighs and walks up to the phone, "Hello?" He asks.

As he hears what the other person has to say, his eyes suddenly narrow. "What do you mean?" He asks, slightly louder than he realized.

This makes you glance towards him, concern beginning to fill your system. You watch as he tightens his grip around the telephone, almost glaring at the ground beneath him.

"Okay, I'll go there now. Just—hello? Hyunsuk-ah?"

When Namjoon realizes the line was cut-off, he curses and hangs up, immediately glancing towards you. "Is everything okay?" You ask, standing up.

He simply sighs and runs his hand through his hair, looking at you with a slightly worried expression. "I have to go, I think someone's trying to trespass the gate." He says, making your eyes widen.

"Wait—trespass, like, someone's trying to come into the house?" You ask, clearly taken aback.

Namjoon looks at you uneasily and nods, walking up to the safe by the couch. "Listen, I'll be right back, okay? I need you to stay here and keep the door locked." He says, grabbing a gun.

You hold in a gasp upon seeing it, hearing Monnie whimper from beside you. You sigh and carry the dog up, hugging him close to your chest as your heart rate begins to speed up.

"I'll try sending one of the members here to guard your door. Let them in when you hear their voice. But if it's someone else, just keep the door locked and call my number, alright?" Namjoon says, his voice a mix between serious and distraught.

You simply nod, "Okay."

Namjoon sees the nervous expression on your face and approaches you, gently placing his hands on either of your shoulders. "Hey, hey, look at me." He says, tone much gentler.

You hesitantly look towards him, feeling the slight warmth of his gaze. "Everything's gonna be alright, I promise. Just stay here and I'll be back before you know it." He says, caressing your shoulders.

You can only nod, Namjoon nodding back before letting go of you. He begins to walk away, pausing at the door when you call for him.

"Namjoon," You say, watching as he turned towards you. "Please be safe."

He lets out a small smile at this, nodding at you before he rushes out the door. You nervously sigh and walk towards it, quickly locking the door. Once you're sure it's locked, you walk back to the couch and take a seat, anxiously waiting.

Monnie senses your nervousness and softly nudges you with his head, making you glance towards him. You let out a smile when you see him gazing up towards you, paw on your stomach.

"We're going to be just fine," You mumble to him, the words directed more to yourself. "I trust him." You say, hugging the pet close to your chest.

You continue to wait on the couch, unable to let your guard down when you have no clue what may happen next. Suddenly, someone knocks on the door, causing your heart to stop.

Monnie barks, jumping off of your lap to defend you from the person outside. You smile at this, petting him on the head before you anxiously glance towards the door.

"(Y/N)-ah?" A familiar voice asks, causing you to sigh in relief.

You walked up to the door and slowly opened it, relaxing when you see Yoongi standing outside the door. He gives you a warm smile before coming inside and locking the door behind him.

"You okay?" He asks, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You nod, letting out a sigh. "Yeah, just a bit shocked," You respond, "Everything just happened so quickly—I didn't have much time to process any of it."

Yoongi nods, patting your shoulder before placing it in his pocket. "Don't worry, we have the man in captive already. They're just bringing him downstairs to the basement." He explains, reassuring you.

You inwardly shudder at his remark, knowing fully well what the basement was for. For obvious reasons, you had never been there yourself. But, that didn't stop you from hearing multiple stories about it—even before you moved in with Bangtan.

"Is Namjoon okay?" You ask, recalling he went down to check on everyone.

"He's fine," Yoongi responds, "In fact, the only reason why he didn't come upstairs himself was because he still needed to speak to the guards downstairs with Jungkook."

When he hears you sigh in relief, a teasing smile creeps onto Yoongi's face. You see his expression and tilt your head, looking at him questionably.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask, slightly confused.

He simply chuckles, "You were worried about him, weren't you?" He asks, making you furrow your eyebrows.

"Of course I was worried, he's my husband, Yoongi." You respond in disbelief.

But Yoongi shakes his head, squinting his eyes at you. "It's more than that though," He says, "Don't think for a second that we haven't noticed how much time you've been spending with our leader lately. Not to mention, the fact that he's always with you in the garden now when he used to shudder at the mere idea of even touching grass."

You blink at this, not knowing what to say. Yoongi sees this and lets out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm just saying, it's nice to see that you two seem to finally be getting to know one another. Namjoon needs someone like you to keep him steady." He says, giving you a pat on the head.

You simply smile at his remark when suddenly, before either of you could react, a loud bang is heard from a few rooms away. Yoongi quickly furrows his eyebrows, motioning for you to move away from the door.

"Don't say anything." He mouths to you before pointing to Namjoon's desk.

You swallow nervously and nod, picking Monnie up before quickly taking a seat on Namjoon's leather chair, the table being a considerable distance away from the door. Once Yoongi sees you're seated, he grabs his phone and types a text message before bringing out his gun.

He leans towards the door, trying to listen in for any sounds in the hallway. Then, his phone buzzes. You hold your breath when you see his eyes widen as he accepts the call.

"How did that even happen—no, I'm in Joon's office with (Y/N) right now. Yes, I know, we heard the gun." He says softly before pausing as he listens to the man on the other line.

After hearing what he has to say, Yoongi glances towards you hesitantly and lets out a sigh. "(Y/N)-ah, I'm sorry but they need me in the other room." He says, frowning at you. "I'll be right back, okay? Keep the door locked and don't let anyone in."

"I—" You say before pausing as you noticed the urgency in his expression. "Okay, be careful."

He smiles at your remark and nods before walking out of the room, shutting the door behind him. As much as you walk up to the door and lock it, you can't help but sit still in Namjoon's chair, the nervousness taking over your system.

Oh my god—Namjoon. You think to yourself, wondering if he was okay. What if he was hurt?

While you daze out and begin to assume the worst-case scenarios, your hands begin to quiver as the anxiety settles in your stomach.

Unexpectedly, the door in front of you slams open, causing you to shoot up from your seat. Monie whimpers, hiding behind your legs as you both wait for the person to come in.

"(Y/N)? Where are you?" Namjoon asks, making you let out a sigh.

You almost cry from relief when you see him come into the room, watching as his hardened expression softens once he sees you. "Are you alright?" He asks, concern in his tone.

Before you realize it, you run towards Namjoon and tackle him into a hug, burying your face into his chest. He frowns at this, wrapping his arms around your shoulder as he rubs your back.

"I thought something had happened to you." You mumble, causing Namjoon to sigh. "When I heard the gunshot, I just assumed the worst and—"

He cuts you off with a shush, "I'm here now, (Y/N)," He mumbles, "I'm so sorry I had to leave you alone."

You sigh and close your eyes, leaning into his chest while he continues comforting you. After a few moments, once you're more calmed down, you slowly pull away from him, feeling his hands remain on your lower back.

"You're sure you aren't hurt anywhere?" You ask, gazing up at him.

Namjoon gives you a small smile and nods, "Yes," He responds, gazing at you comfortingly. "I'm sure."

You let out another sigh at this, hands dropping to his chest as you shake your head. He sees your expression and gently brings your chin up to face him again.

"The gun didn't hit anyone, don't worry. There was an attempt, but—thank god no one got hurt." He explains, "The moment I heard the gun from downstairs, shit—I just ran up immediately. I thought something might have happened to you."

Upon hearing Namjoon's exasperated words, your heart warms as you as realize he cared about you just as much as you did for him. You slowly wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in for another hug, making him smile.

"Thank you for being here," You mumble, "for checking up on me right away."

Namjoon places his chin onto your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, "No problem, (Y/N)," He says, "I'm always going to be here to protect you."

As the two of you enjoy one another's embrace, you're cut short from your trance as you hear a familiar dog bark from beneath you two. You and Namjoon both pull away from one another, smiling at Monnie who was looking at you two from the ground.

"Ah, and how could we forget about Monnie?" Namjoon teasingly says, causing you both to let out laughs.

No Limit

characters— seokjin x reader (ft. members of bts)

summary— you and jungkook don’t even look alike. how was seokjin supposed to know you were off limits?

information— one shot. bakery!au. features less puns than you would think. i am still very new to writing smut, so be kind in that regard. if this gets a lot of love, might be continued in the future.

warnings—adult language; smut; mild violence; awkward situations; super hopeless seokjin.

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To Make A Power Couple (knj) - series masterlist

NOTE: I have lost access to my old account @joheun-saram​, and all new updates will be to this new series masterlist.

Summary- One a world renowned idol, the other an up and coming company’s CEO. Torn between work, fans, and their own self doubt, can they make a relationship work?

Alternatively, as a CEO of an up and coming company, you never expected to meet the man of your dreams at a gala you hosted, but seems like fate had other plans.

word count- 88.2k and going

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- idolau, series, strangers2lovers, fluff, angst, smut

a.n- my first series, my baby. its not regularly updated but if you want to read my attempt at deconstructing a relationship and at making a boss ass bitch Y/N, read on! Got questions about the series, or want to be on the taglist? Send me an ask! 💕

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s t a t u s : semi-active

r e q u e s t s : closed

k e y : fluff  ❤︎ | angst❄︎ | smut/mature ⚤ | humour/crack ☼ 

m i n . y o o n g i

m u l t i c h a p t e r s … 

⏤"she’s just my neighbour" ⇢  ⌈ ❤︎  ❄︎  ✎ ⌋

𝟘𝟘 | 𝟘𝟙 | 𝟘𝟚 … [hiatus]

To his friends, are just his neighbour but they find that very hard to believe.

“She seems more like your girlfriend to me.”

j e o n . j u n g k o o k

m u l t i c h a p t e r s …

⏤the prince with the ugly heart  ⇢  ⌈ ❤︎  ❄︎ ⌋

jungkook in my version of beauty and the beast 

𝐩 𝐨 𝐥 𝐲 𝐚 𝐦 𝐨 𝐫 𝐨 𝐮 𝐬

m u l t i c h a p t e r s …

⏤peculiar pack ⇢ ⌈ ❤︎  ❄︎ ⌋

hybrid!bts ; hybrid activist reader ; ot7 x reader ; poly au ; fluff ; angst ; teeth-rotting ; request based imagines

an unsystematic catalog of hybrid bts x fem.reader imagine

•          •          •

o n e s h o t s …

⏤two types of strangers ⇢ ⌈ ❤︎ ⌋

strangers2friends!au, strangers!au

In one night, you encounter two types of strangers

•          •          •

c o m i n g  s o o n…

⏤happier ⇢ ⌈ ❤︎  ❄︎ ⌋

hybrdi!bts ; fantasy!au ; magical!au ; teahouseowner!reader ; nobledaughter!reader ; mercenary!bts 

you fake your death to start a new, calming life at the border running a tea house, the only tea house in the village willing to serve the seven hybrid mercenaries hired to patrol the border

•          •           • 

⏤seven accursed princes ⇢ ⌈ ❤︎  ❄︎ ⌋

idea/teaser | 𝟘𝟘 | 01 | 02 | 03 …

prince!bts ; reincarnation!au ; cursed!au ; maid!au

after being reincarnated into a novel where seven princes are cursed and ultimately face tragedy, you are determined to change their fate

𝐡 𝐚 𝐩 𝐩 𝐢 𝐞 𝐫 ⏤𝕓𝕥𝕤 𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕪𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕕

c o m i n g s o o n …

after faking your death you start

a new life running a tea house where

you provide warm food for the seven handsome

hybrid mercenaries patrolling the border

special thanks to @moonnkxller on wattpad for helping inspire the continuation of this into a series

⏤idea | hybrid cafe au

⏤the universe