#Comic Companies That Hate Their Readers

[blissfullyapillow]

┃Genshin + HSR men as spiderman (+ your boyfriend)

₊˚⊹♡ Various x gn reader

₊˚⊹♡ wc: 7,189

₊˚⊹♡ warnings: Baizhu. Alhaitham’s part is suggestive but nothing explicit. Caelus’ part contains a ton of references to various things (one of them being your option to choose between Caelus or Stelle when you start HSR). Overall fluffy scenarios w/ your boyfriend (who is also Spiderman) :> 

₊˚⊹♡ Pillow Talks: Some parts are proofread others aren’t (for once) because I wasn’t feeling up to it. I intentionally put Baizhu under warnings it's not a mistake, I thought I was being funny doing that lol. Ngl Caelus’ part is my fav <3 !! I have a ton of drafts I’ll eventually complete, life is just a lot for me rn. I love you all ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ ♡ <3

₊˚⊹♡ Masterlist

Alhaitham ✮ ๋ ࣭ ⭑ 〃

always has headphones on. Even when he’s fighting. He’s literally never seen without them

He’s been offered to do collaborations with many companies to make a model of headphones off the one’s he usually wears. He never accepts, unless it’s for his go to brand.

All villains know to leave spidey’s headphones alone. The last villain who broke his old pair didn’t make it out of the fight alive.

That wasn’t a joke.

Anyway, most people don’t ask about his headphones, rather reporters are always at their wits end since they can never get an interview out of him. Not even a brief still shot of him.

Hell, most people don’t even know what he sounds like.

For the most he’s a man of few words, but when he does speak? You’ll wish he hadn’t.

Very sassy. Has the best retorts and the most vile insults.

His suit is really cool too, and very practical.

He’s a college student when he isn’t spiderman. He’s scarily efficient at juggling his part time superhero duties along with his heavy college workload. Maybe it’s because he gets all his work done way in advance? Who knows.

He’s super gentle whenever he’s rescuing civilians. At most, he’ll say a word or two in response to their gratitude. Something along the lines of “yeah.” Or “It’s no problem” if you’re lucky. Most people don’t try to make conversation anyway. As stated before, he’s really good at dodging not only reporters but cameras in general.

So, imagine your surprise when he actually stops walking away after you’ve asked him what he’s listening to. You can’t see his face, but his spidery eyes widen comically in shock.

No one has ever asked him that before. You’d think someone would, but no one has.

So, he indulges you. “I’m not listening to anything at the moment. Sometimes I’ll have music playing, but for the most part I tend to use these just to block out noise. Plus, people tend to leave you alone when they see you have headphones on. It also makes for an adequate excuse to pretend I don’t hear people speaking to me.” Your mouth drops in pure shock at the fact that spiderman not only spoke to you, but he’s also.. very.. interesting.

Oh, he likes that look on your face. You can’t see it, but he has a huge smirk on his face underneath that mask.

Alhaitham recognized you from campus. Of course he was quick and efficient with moving you to safety before he took care of the danger, but he couldn’t return you to ground level until after the fight.

Speaking of fighting, he’s really good at it. His movements are calculated and precise. You made a mental note never to get on spider man's bad side as you watched him clock the villain square in the jaw, with no regard for whether they retain consciousness or not.

“I’ll see you around.” Is all he says now, before he web slings away. Wait, see you around? But he’s spiderman!

Little did you know that spiderman was your hot, intelligent classmate you had a raging crush on.

Lucky for you, it seems he may develop feelings for you too.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I thought I told you to leave your window unlocked? I’d hate to be spotted.” Alhaitham scolds you as you unlock your window for him, and he effortlessly slips into your abode.

“I’m sorry, but I like hearing your cute little knocks on my window. It’s the highlight of my day.” Alhaitham sighs, as if he’s annoyed, but in reality your words cause his heart to flutter.

Once he’s inside he slips off his mask and stretches his fit body. He catches sight of your lingering, fixed gaze. He smirks as he purposefully flexes his arms for you. Your head whips around, looking away as if he hadn’t caught your ogling.

“It seems like someone missed me.” His knowing words result in a click of your tongue. Yet, you find yourself melting in his warm embrace as he wraps his arms around you from behind. You’re a goner when he buries his face into the crook of your shoulder. He presses a kiss there.

As his lingering lips trail along your sensitive skin, you ask him your usual question. “What are you listening to?” He hums in contemplation as he thinks. “To the sound of your voice.” You suck in a breath, and he smiles.

That question is something of a routine between the two of you. You always ask him, ever since you learned of his identity during one of his canon events. His response will change depending on his mood, and it’s a good indicator of his current mood.

If he gives you an actual song, it’s an easy way to tell depending on the tone and meaning of the song. Otherwise, if he replies with “Nothing.” He’s either tired or on the verge of breaking. Usually it’s both, since he says the silence helps him think.

Now, if he responds with something sweet, like “The sound of your voice,” he either wants to cuddle or…

The firm press of his hand as it trails along your inner thigh is answer enough.

You feel heat warm the expanse of your body, but you pretend not to notice. “I thought you said class drained you earlier today?” You try to distract yourself with conversation. Alhaitham’s hand only travels up further. “It did. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, yet I was stuck listening to the professor droning on and on about a topic I’ve already read extensively about. Now, I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to do to all day long.” Alhaitham’s voice is rough, and his breath grazes the shell of your ear.

“Okay…” Is your eloquent response. You know if you turned around, you’d be met with that knowing smirk of his.

“Now, will you help me relax? Being spiderman is draining after all, and not being able to touch you the way you deserve all day has made me really tense.”

You have no objections when his fingers finally reach the place you’re craving it most.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

ᐟᐟ☆ Caelus .✮𖦹‪‪ ₊˚

Radiates the most Gen Z vibes it’s insane

Up to date on everything and anything pop culture related. Whether it be old or new.

A theater went into a frenzy when fans realized spider man was in the same theater watching Five Nights at Freddy’s with them

He was upset since he had to slip out and watch the movie at home on Peacock instead.

Anyway, he’s a real sweetheart. He always makes time to stop and help older individuals cross streets, helps children find missing items, and he’ll even give some citizens a lift to a place they’re running late to.

Well, he stopped doing that last one after the incident. … That was his second canon event.

He became spider man when a woman named Kafka purposefully had a mutated spider bite him. He doesn’t recall too much before that, and he’s not sure why he can’t, but that’s a part of his journey. To discover himself and put together pieces of his past.

He still occasionally runs into Kafka and her companions, but for the most part he’s still developing his own opinion of her.

He’s a ball of energy most days. Reporters love him since he’s always so receptive and open to their questions.

Yet, he has his moments. Some nights, if you look to the right building, you’ll spot a lone figure on top, staring into the vast night sky. On those nights, he imagines a life where he travels those skies, exploring what the universe has to offer. Maybe there are other planets out there? What if he could visit them, and experience intergalactic adventures?

Oh well. Maybe in another timeline. He isn’t a nameless traveler here after all.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, you’ve bumped into each other on countless occasions when he’s in his civilian form. Actually, you two are very close friends.

He’s debated with himself many times. Should he tell you the truth? Time and time again his answer was no, and for many reasons. One, Kafka clearly has a close eye on him, and he isn’t sure of her intentions yet. Two, he doesn’t want you needlessly worrying about him. Unfortunately, you already do.

So it honestly doesn’t come as a surprise when you stumble upon him during a particularly hard moment in time, and he lets it slip that he’s spiderman and he’a struggling.

Thankfully, you’re just the support he needed.

Now, he has a safe space. A person who feels like home in a place where he truly has none. And he’s eternally grateful to you for it.

As for you, he’s your personal ray of sunshine. You’re overjoyed you can play such a prominent role in his life, and you don’t love him any less for being spider man. If anything, you somehow worry less about him…?

It’s honestly hard when you watch him overcome many impossible odds. He even accumulates new powers every now and again! He’s really strong, mentally and physically, so it eases your worries at times.

Even if he does need a shoulder to lean on, as you often do, you’re more than happy to be that shoulder for him.

Honestly, it’s a good thing he has you. His future canon events look pretty… rough. Especially the one where he meets himself from a parallel universe. You know, the one where he’s a star instead of the sky.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Oh my gosh Name look! They even have my bat in the game!” Caelus happily swivels around in his chair to look at you, frantically pointing to his pc monitor all the while.

You look at the screen, and sure enough there’s a scarily accurate model of your superhero boyfriend in the game, currently performing a silly dance move.

“Ah.. I see..” Is your response. You really think it’s cool, but you want to tease him a bit. You struggle to contain your grin when he pouts at your lack of enthusiasm. “I thought you’d think it was cool….” You can only chuckle as you run soothing fingers through his soft locks.

“I do sweetheart, I do.” Your words make him visibly light up, and he practically jumps out of his chair to wrap his arms around you.

“Speaking of, I have something else I want to show you…”

Que a fun midnight outing on top of the tallest building overlooking the whole city.

“Wow.. this is beautiful..” Your eyes shine as bright as a dying supernova as you gaze upon the beautiful landscape before you.

Caelus is beaming with pride, glad he was able to surprise you like this.

“Yeah, I stumbled upon this view after a particularly hard battle.” He hums in content as he leans back, pulling you into him.

You rest your head against him, his chest a comfortable pillow.

You can feel his steady heartbeat beneath your ear, and it’s a soothing melody.

“Thank you for sticking by me all this time.” The words are a gentle caress against the shell of your ear, yet they cause your heart to ache.

“You don’t need to thank me for that, silly. I love you, and when you love someone and they’re good for you, you stand by them. No matter what. Yeah?” You gently pat his chest.

He smiles.

“Yeah.”

He’s silent again, and a comfortable atmosphere wraps around the two of you like a warm blanket right out of the dryer.

That is, until he decides to open his mouth.

“Don’t get too comfortable. I might just push you off.”

…

He looks at you to gauge your reaction.

Absolute horror is written on your features.

He loves it. It sends an electrifying thrill through him; he loves to tease you too.

“You’re getting too out of hand with these jokes of-“

His lips steal the rest of your words, and you allow it.

The city paints a magical backdrop for your moment of intimacy.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

Jing Yuan ⁞ ⟡ ⚡︎ ♡⸝⸝ 🕷 

This spider man is always accompanied by his cat, Mimi.

He rescued her during a particularly rough encounter. He tried to send her off after ensuring she was safe with authorities, but she refused to leave his side. Now, he already had a soft spot for cats, so it was a no brainer to him

Mimi has accompanied him ever since, and she even has her own little mask and everything.

Little does he know that the ‘cat’ he saved was really just another one of the smuggled exotic animals those crooks tried to sneak into the city. Mimi will no longer fit in that backpack of his in a few months time.

He’s really lazy, honestly. He calls it conserving energy, but really he will only intervene when it’s called for or if the situation is rapidly turning dire

He has many admirers. Pictures of blurry glimpses of his suit sell for hundreds, if not thousands of dollars, online

So, so many fan edits of him. And he’s seen ‘em all. He’s secretly really smug about it, but he keeps that to himself

He has a commanding presence, and an air of elegance about him. It almost feels like his fighting is an art of sorts. It’s fascinating to see the creative ways he’ll use his webs to get the job done.

Mimi has plushies, courtesy of collaboration with spiderman.

He bought the pre-orders for her plush and a few more when the official drop released

So, how did you end up with a man like Jing Yuan? Gorgeous, handsome Jing Yuan who's also a renowned general?

Simple. You're his personal alarm clock.

No. Literally. You were asked to wake him up after he fell asleep on the job again, as everyone else had grown tired of the task, and that was the beginning of an.. interesting dynamic.

The best part about it? One day you arrived a bit earlier than your usual time to wake him up, only to find the infamous spider man frantically urging Jing Yuan’s cat, Mimi, into a backpack.

Long story short, now you not only have to deal with waking him up, but you also have to deal with a clingy boyfriend who isn't afraid to his webs against you

𓆩♡𓆪

“Jing Yuan! I told you, this meeting is important and it’s imperative that-“

He blatantly ignores you as he webs the door shut, and now you’re stuck with him in his office.

“Mhm. I understand. Now come here, I miss you.” His stupid smile makes your heart race as he opens his arms, welcoming you in.

Ah, what the hell.

You all too easily bend to his whims. You quickly find yourself in his arms, snuggled against his warm body.

“That’s much better sweetheart. See? This isn’t so bad is it?” You abhor his teasing, yet all the same it sends a thrill through you.

“Shut up. I better not get in trouble because of you.” You sigh. “No one would dare say anything to you. If anyone ever does, I will personally tend to the matter.” His voice is tense, along with his statement, but all you feel is his thick hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles his head against you.

A goofy smile spreads across your lips, and soon you forget all about the meeting as you enjoy each other’s embrace.

An adorable sound comes from Mimi, lounging somewhere in his office you assume. The usual.

“By the way, are we still on for dinner later?” Your question evoked a chuckle out of Jing Yuan.

“I wouldn’t miss dinner with you for the world.” “Not even if your spidey duties call?” Your quip causes an adorable pout to form on his lips.

“My ‘spidey duties’ can wait until I’m full and satiated. You mean more to me than you know, my sweet angel.” His words warm not only your heart, but your soul.

You completely lose track of time in his arms.

So it comes as quite a shock when obnoxious knocking can be heard on his office door. You know, the one that’s currently webbed shut?

“Jing Yuan!!”

Ah, Diviner Fu. She knows all too well that you’ve failed yet again to lure Jing Yuan out of his office.

“Ah, looks like dinner has arrived sooner than we expected sweetheart.” You squeal when he suddenly sits up with you still in his arms.

He uses his webs to grab his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as Mimi hops in, used to this ordeal.

“Remember to hold on tight, okay?” He murmurs the words against the shell of your ear, before he slips on your own little mask over your face. Just as a precaution, though he’s really good at staying hidden whenever he’s with you.

“Off we go.”

And with that, you two sling out of the window of his office, leaving an exasperated Fu Xuan behind.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

♡ ┃ Kaedehara Kazuha ‧.°˖➴

He is the amazing spider man

Like, he’s the ultimate spider man. He’s kind yet deadly, and very friendly.

He’s as swift as the wind, and he actually travels with a sword. You’ve never seen Spiderman incorporate sword play in with his webs? Well, you’re in luck! Kazuha does this at a masterful level. He made it into a sort of art form as well. At the end of his fights he’ll always create beautiful imagery using his sword, carving out complicated shapes and scenes with his webs. It’s kind of like a signature of his

He’s pretty good at balancing his civilian and hero life. Although he may get caught up with things if unexpected incidents occur, which lets be honest, it happens all the time when you’re spider man

He’s genuinely so sweet, and it’s easy to see through his actions. The public loves him. He has loads of admirers.

After a very traumatic incident involving a close friend of his, he experienced a period of grief and depression

He got back on his feet eventually, and he awakened new powers within him! Well, that would be the only explanation for why he was suddenly able to use electricity during combat with a particularly strong villain

Not only does he use a sword but now he has the ability to wield electricity?

Once word of spider man’s new powers spread, the number of crimes that were committed went down drastically. Literally. Statistically crime rates decreased by 25% the following week. 25%. Your usual run of the mill people were too afraid to do anything after witnessing the devastating beating Kazuha gave to a particular individual

To be fair, he was late to your date because of them. He wasted no time, defeating that villain within mere seconds before frantically webbing away to meet you

Speaking of dates, Kazuha enjoys going on many dates with you.

From indoor cozy dates to public outings, typically walks through nature, Kazuha’s favorite past time is the time he spends with you

He often leaves you handwritten notes before he leaves, ranging from eloquent poetry of his feelings for you, to short blurbs of how your eyes make it physically impossible for him to focus on what you’re saying. (He felt bad because he got lost in your eyes while you were describing your Christmas decorating plans to him)

Overall, Kaedehara Kazuha is a model spider man. Kind and caring, yet swift and fatal when the situation needs him to be.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Kazuha, I told you I forgive you already!” You giggle despite your exasperation. Kazuha disregards your statement as he places fleeting, soft kisses on your person.

He starts with your hand. He holds your hand delicately, treating you as if you’re porcelain. He places a kiss to the back of your hand before his lips slowly trail up your arm.

Your heart melts at the tender gesture, all the while your body lights aflame with his burning gaze. His piercing orbs hold your gaze as his lips make their leisure ascent.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him even if you willed it.

“I promised you I wouldn’t be late to our date this week, but I was. You have my sincerest apologies, my love.” You feel his lips move as he murmurs the words against your skin.

“No need to be all formal. We’ve been together for how long now?” You murmur the words in embarrassment, as Kazuha’s lips now brush along your neck, teasing you.

“Hmm.. if I recall correctly, today would make five years correct?” You nod your head, yet your eyes drift shut as Kazuha playfully teases the skin of your neck with his teeth.

“Y-Yeah.. so..” Your mind is blank. You completely forgot the point you were trying to make.

You have a feeling that was his goal all along.

His lips finally reach their destination; his eager lips meet your parted ones.

You groan as he draws you closer, placing a firm hand on the back of your head. His kiss almost feels a bit desperate; his lips mold with yours in perfect sync as his free hand explores the expanse of your body.

When he finally parts from you, you take desperate gasps of air. His state isn’t much better; his lidded gaze roams your body as he takes deep breaths.

“Kazuha…” “hmm?” He smiles, a lazy, slow smile, and you know you’re not letting him leave any time soon.

“I.. um.. oh! I was going to say, before you rudely distracted me..” He chuckles at that, tracing the contour of your face with a finger as you continue to scold him. “It wasn’t your fault you were late. The police force needed backup and-“ His lips capture yours again.

You reluctantly press against his chest, gently pushing him away.

You pout.

He winks at you.

“I know, but it still took away from our precious time together. I wanted to make it up to you by arriving early today, but I wasn’t able to fulfill that desire.” He sighs, and his finger moves from your face down to your neck, lower to your collarbone.

“I promise you it’s okay, Kazuha. I understand. Although, if you really want to make it up to me…” This time, your gaze is the heated one as you skillfully unravel his ponytail.

He sucks in a breath at your action. “I have another desire that you most certainly can fulfill.”

“Ah, I like the sound of that.”

Lucky for you, he is more than able to fulfill that desire of yours.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

‧₊˚ ┊Shikanoin Heizou ⚖✮⋆˙✦

Public menace #1

He drives the police force crazy because he always solves all the cases before they can get to the bottom of it. He does so not only as spider man, but as his civilian self too.

He can be a bit of a flirt when he has the mask on.. well, ‘a bit’ is an understatement, but he doesn’t just flirt with everyone!

He really only flirts with you, honestly, yet you reject him time and time again. He was a bit puzzled, since he knows how flustered you get when he flirts with you without the mask. Maybe it’s because you don’t know it’s him? He’ll have to test that theory

Using his detective skills he quickly deduces that it was because you have a crush on him. Him. Not spider man.

He knows of your intense loyalty, so of course you wouldn’t entertain his flirting, even if the individual flirting with you is the spider man.

Once he figured that out, oh how much fun he has teasing you as spider man

He’ll use his webs to get around quickly and restrain his enemy, but in combat? He prefers to use his fists. He’s quick with it too. He’s Shikanoin ‘left, right, goodnight’ Heizou.

So, whenever he does use his webs in combat, you know he’s going against a formidable foe 

He’s super sweet to fans. Signatures, autographs, everything. On the sly though, when you still didn’t know he was spider man, he kissed an autograph he signed specifically for you before he handed it to you.

There was a visible mark left behind, and although you were annoyed you still kept the autograph (that you didn’t ask for)

When he finally revealed his identity to you, you were simultaneously livid and not surprised; You know of Heizou’s tendency to tease

He planned for the whole reveal to be super romantic and everything, and by the end of it you two became a couple.

You are the ones who create the iconic spider man kiss. He’s upside down, holding a handwritten confession of love, not a rose, that you cautiously take from his hand. In the letter he explicitly stated that spider man and the man you were currently crushing on are the same people. Following that was a very romantic declaration of his feelings for you.

When you looked up from reading the letter, you found yourself face to face with Shikanoin Heizou instead of the spider’s mask. The shock on your face was too adorable to ignore, so he kissed you whilst hanging upside down.

It was an… interesting experience, to say the least.

Would you repeat it? Absolutely.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Heizouuu….” Your whine is music to his ears.

He nuzzles his head further into your chest, and his sigh is one of contentment.

“Yesss..?” This time, you’re the one sighing, except it’s one of annoyance rather than content.

“I’ve needed to use the bathroom since five minutes ago.” “And I told you you’re welcome to. I will wait as my warm, loving arms ache for your return.” You scoff at his dramatic use of words.

“Thanks, Heizou, but how could I possibly go to the bathroom when your body is literally tangled with mine?” This question gives him pause, even though it really shouldn’t.

Said body adjusts a bit, but he makes no move to get off of you.

You’re currently lounging in bed, doing nothing really. Just enjoying Heizou’s company. It was nice until you had to use the bathroom, and with the way Heizou’s body is lying on you, legs entangled and arms wrapped around you, there’s no possible way for you to escape.

His head remains on your chest, but he looks up at you now.

“How about a deal? If you can solve this riddle-“

“Shikanoin Heizou.” 

…

“My apologies.”

He quickly moves off of you, and you make a beeline for the bathroom.

You’re not surprised when he’s on the other side of the door the moment you open it.

“Sometimes, Heizou, you just…” You struggle to find the words to properly express yourself.

“I just..?” He prompts you, guiding you back to the comfort of your shared bed.

You finally find the words you were searching for as you both resume your previous position, except this time Heizou’s head is buried against the crook of your neck.

“You just.. fail to surprise me, really. Which is funny, since you’re someone who’s full of them.” His body shakes against yours as he laughs at your bold statement.

“Ah, my lovely partner knows me so well. Honestly, how did a detective like me get so lucky? I believe that’s the biggest mystery of all.” His words fill you with warmth; they effectively morph your feelings of affectionate annoyance into a feeling of immense joy.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You do know I’m the one who got lucky, right?” You chuckle when he gasps, as if the very concept itself is absurd.

“I would refute that hypothesis of yours, but I believe it would only cause this conversation to continue in circles. So, I propose that we are both the luck ones. Do you agree?”

You feel his smile and hear the affection in his voice as his lips brush along your skin.

“Yeah.. I agree.” “Perfect.”

And with that, a comfortable silence fills the room once more.

It’s a relaxing evening, spent with your very loving and very dramatic boyfriend.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

Welt Yang ﹕⸝⸝ *:･ﾟ✮

“Wait, spider man is an old man!?” Yeah and there’s a literal dinosaur who dons the mask in another universe. Your point?

Lol jokes aside, Welt is one of, if not the most, powerful spider man. I mean, he can literally manipulate gravity.

He’s also a huge nerd.

He always brings his cane along with him when he fights, so the enemy tends to underestimate him, thinking he’s close to retirement and should just give up the whole ‘hero act’ already. Honestly, maybe he should, but that day isn’t today.

If he gets particularly annoyed by comments from his opponents, he’ll just get rid of ‘em. via a mini black hole of sorts. It’s super effective.

He’s actually very fond of making jokes and semi-horrible puns. They make you laugh though. Others? Not so much.

Anyway, he’s very reserved and he won’t stick around for reporters to interview him. He’ll just give the necessary information needed for authorities to take over, and in the blink of an eye he’s gone.

For his day job, he’s an animator. A well renowned one too. He’s very casual about it though, and he doesn’t see it as something deserving of praise.

He’s taken on a young talent who’s a blank page, in the process of writing a story of their own.

You’re the one who finds out Welt’s well kept secret. He didn’t plan on revealing his identity to you, as he felt it was his burden to bear and he would hate to make you a target.

He’s experienced many battles and has faced numerous foes, so he’s very wise and experienced. He’s faced scenarios where his morals come into play, and that’s something he’s not fond of. He rather preserve his integrity and do things in a way that aligns with his inner values. He’s been granted many opportunities to do things in an underhanded manner, yet he has never taken that  opportunity.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Please please please!” You jump up and down in innocent joy, but the man before you pinches the bridge of his nose.

“No.”

“Why not? Please! I promise this is my last time asking.” You plead with him, moving to hold onto his arm.

“That’s the exact same line you use every time.” “It is not!” You retort.

“You said the same thing yesterday.”

“Welt, please!” Now you fix him with a pleading look, a look you know he can’t resist.

“Name, my ability to manipulate gravity is a powerful one that comes with great responsibility. It shouldn’t be used as a measly… ahem..” His cheeks take on a pink hue as he coughs into his fist.

You’ve pressed yourself against him, your head tilted as you gaze at him with that look in your eyes.

“…this is the last time.” His gruff response brings you to life, your eyes alighting with joy as you remove yourself from him.

He misses the warmth of your body, but your smile provides him with a permeating warmth that is different, but comforting all the same.

“You always say that.” Your bratty response irks him. In an instant your world is flipped upside down as your feet are lifted off the floor.

“Yay! Thank you Welt.” He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed when you’re doing silly little flips as your body floats in the air.

This has become a regular occurrence for you. Occasionally, when you’re in the mood to be a bit silly, you’ll ask Welt to use his gravity manipulation to suspend you in air.

He was opposed to it, but eventually you wore him down. Now, he agrees to give you a few moments of fun, although sparingly.

His gaze is soft as he watches you enjoy the moment with childlike glee, before you’re gently lowered to the ground once more.

“There. Satisfied?” His voice is rough and his gaze won’t meet yours, but his heart pounds in his chest. You really are too cute.

“Yes! Thank you, and I’m sorry I keep pestering you about it… but… I appreciate it.” You saddle up beside him and wrap your arms around him in a grounding hug.

He smiles.

“Don’t worry about it.” Is his simple response. He presses a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, before he rests his on top of yours.

Fwip!

You glance behind you when you hear the sound, just in time to see the door to your shared bedroom close shut. Your eyes study the webs on the door handle before you swivel around to face Welt.

His cheeks are tinted pink once more, but he meets your curious gaze.

“Let’s.. enjoy each other’s company for the remainder of the day.” His words cause your own face to heat up, but a sly smirk soon presents itself on your lips.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” You relish the look he fixes you with, and you willingly follow his lead to your neatly made bed.

“On the contrary, with that attitude of yours I get more than my fill of you.” His words are contradictory to his actions, since he’s pulling you closer as his lips seek yours.

You smile when his lips finally meet yours.

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

‧₊˚ ┊Baizhu ⚕ *: ♥

With swift and deadly attacks that require minimal movement, Baizhu is always quick to subdue the enemy

Some days are harder than others for him, as he has a chronic illness. He still gets the job done, and he’s always advocating for others in a similar situation as him. He doesn’t reveal much to the media, but he does like to tell anyone who may hear “If I can be spiderman, then I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Instead of a spider biting him it was a snake. A talking snake no less. Her name is Changsheng, and she travels with him almost all the time.

Many ask to pet Changsheng. He turns down most requests but on rare occurrences he may let an individual do so (mainly children)

Has miraculous healing powers. He’s also a good sport at taking heavy hits, but he can only handle so much. Still, he’s stronger than you’d think, and he’s great at sporting others back to health. It’s almost like they were never sick at all once Baizhu tended to them. Unfortunately, his illness always seems to flair after he does so…

Speaking of, he’s well loved, Dr. Baizhu. He literally has a 5 star rating and everyone raves about him. You would think he would limit clients since he constantly gets a large influx of them, but he’s too kind to do anything of the sort.

Sometimes you have to scold him and force him to coax him into taking it easy; he tends to take on a bit more than he can handle.

He’ll say cheesy things like “You’re the remedy I’ve been searching for all my life. Most certainly.” Whenever you two are alone and spending quality time together. You can only smile when he tells you these things; He’s too cute to feign annoyance with.

He’s immune to poison. Don’t ask why he just is. (It’s totally not an added benefit of a contract he made)

𓆩♡𓆪

Your fingers gently scrub the area, and a noise akin to the sound of a satisfied cat purr is heard.

You bite your lip as you try to contain your smile, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.

You’ve finished lathering Baizhu’s hair in the floral conditioner. He allows you to finish the process of rinsing his hair, and the result is satisfactory. His hair, which now has the floral scent of the conditioner, has a renewed sheen to it.

“Your hair is gorgeous, Baizhu. Well taken care of too.” You hum, guiding him as you both move to sit down.

You sit on the couch, and have him sit in front of you on the floor.

You gently dry his hair as he leans back into you. It causes you to get a few droplets of water on your person but that’s insignificant to you.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your boyfriend so relaxed. He’s been overworking himself again, not only with his job as a doctor but with his spiderman man duties.

You insisted on a self care day since he has the day off, and you prayed people would stay in line today so he wouldn’t have to suit up.

It seems your prayers were answered; it’s now late evening and the orange hue of the sky is slowly morphing into a starry night sky.

The streets remain peaceful today.

A groan from Baizhu draws your attention.

He’s looking up at you with furrowed brows. “I thought I told you to stop worrying so much about me.” You ‘tsk’ at the audacity of his claim, opting to flick his forehead. It was a light flick, but he acts as if you’ve scorched him.

He hisses. He sounds like Changsheng.

You giggle.

“I know you aren’t telling me to stop worrying.” You shake your head in dismay, albeit a knowing smirk is on your lips.

“Name, I know I am not one to talk but I promise you I’ll take better care of my mental wellbeing. You have my word.” He places a comforting hand on your knee. The touch brings warmth to your skin.

“Promise?” Your voice is quiet. It sounds small. You’d be surprised if he even heard you.

You open your mouth to repeat your question, sure he hadn’t heard you, but he speaks before you can voice the question once more.

“I promise.” His statement is firm. When you look into his golden snake-like eyes, they’re full of life. Determination emanates from their intense gaze.

You believe him.

“Okay, good. I hate to see you like that, you know…” His gaze softens at the obvious concern on your face. He understands it comes from a place of love, so he only nods in understanding.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He reaches for your hand, still a bit wet from washing his hair, yet he places a kiss to your palm nonetheless.

With that, you resume your task.

You take your time braiding his hair. It’s relaxing, and the diffuser you have going only adds to the calm atmosphere.

As soon as you finish braiding his hair Baizhu moves. It startles you, but you’re soon put to ease when he sits beside you.

His arms wrap around you, and he rests your head on his shoulder. Your eyes fall shut as you breathe in the floral scent of his hair.

“Thank you.” He whispers the words, and you feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead. You feel the same touch on your nose, your cheek, your eyelids, until they finally press against your lips.

When he pulls away, you respond with a thank you of your own. He seems taken aback by your words, but then the sweetest smile lifts his lips.

“You are quite welcome.”

🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓

♡. Blade 🗡⭒⚠︎︎ ⛓°˖ 

He is the second spiderman in Caelus’s verse

He honestly feels as if the whole Spiderman role is a curse rather than a blessing, but he still plays the role nonetheless.

When he feels like it

Most people only know of Caelus as spiderman, but once Blade also took on the role there were rumors of a darker, more sinister spiderman seen webbing from building to building during the late hours of the night

Of course Caelus had to investigate said rumors, and that led to a one on one encounter with Blade and.. Kafka?

Long story short Blade begrudgingly helps Caelus out when he’s in a jam, but for the most part he keeps to the shadows and does his own thing. Whether what he does is morally ‘right or wrong’ doesn’t concern him.

He has the symbiote, Venom, and he absolutely hates it. Yet, well, here they are.

There was an incident when things got a little.. tense between Caelus and Blade. Before the situation escalated Kafka was able to get Blade under control.

Overall he doesn’t really do too much as ‘spiderman,’ but you’ll definitely have a chance at catching him beat the absolute shit out of a robber in a dark alley, their cries for help muffled as they’re eaten alive by the symbiote :D

Unfortunately for Blade, Kafka isn’t particularly fond of him eating people, due to the hassle of keeping it on the down-low. He’s supplied with massive amounts of chocolate to substitute for the people he was firmly told he can no longer consume, unless it’s a dire situation.

Blade truly sees his life as a misfortune, especially during moments where Caelus coerces him into helping him out. He’s really under no obligation to help, but something about Caelus persuades him to comply (albeit begrudgingly).

They make a great duo! Surprisingly. Like, Caelus can already be a hard hitter, when he chooses to use his bat, but add Blade into the mix? Whoever they’re fighting is not surviving that fight.

𓆩♡𓆪

Your hands slip under his shirt, cold against the warm skin of his abdomen. You trace the outline of his many scars; they feel rough against the delicate pads of your fingers. You move closer to Blade, burying your head into the crook of his neck.

You can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your own; it soothes you.

He moves, his hands slipping under your shirt as well, tracing the curve of your spine.

“You really are such a handful…” He murmurs the words, quiet and emitting a gentle warmth. You shiver from his gentle touch, cold fingers leisurely teasing your skin.

You debate speaking up, to let him know you’re awake, but you quickly decide against it when he speaks once more.

“No one could compare to you. When I’m with you, I feel a warmth I haven’t felt in a long, long time…” Blade’s uncharacteristically honest words cause your heart to swell.

You struggle to contain your smile. You feel him shift closer to you, and soon a pair of surprisingly soft lips are pressed against your temple.

He remains silent now. Enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, running his hands along your skin.

“I love you too.” You finally say. He startles for a moment, and it makes you giggle. When you pull your head away from his neck you’re barely able to make out the sight of his flushed cheeks before he shoves your face back to its previous position.

He says nothing, but the smile on his face says all the things he fails to put into words.

[works-of-fanfiction]

Toothbrush || Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: It’s still early days for Lando and the reader, but he’s ready to start seeing more of her.

Song: Toothbrush by DNCE.

Warnings: None, just a wholesome read.

Word Count: 2.3k

a/n: every time I listen to this song, I imagine little fanfic scenarios in my head, so I finally wrote one! I’m a George girl at heart, but I think I’m in my Lando era rn. short but sweet - hope you like it!

With Lando’s arm strewn across your chest and his soft snores in your ear, you didn’t dare to move. Streams of sunlight bled into the room through the gap in the curtains, illuminating his tanned shoulders that poked out of the covers. Pins and needles prickled at your feet as you fought desperately not to leave the bed. He looked so comfortable and he deserved the extra rest after all the busy weekdays preparing for the new season.

You turned your head to catch a full glimpse of his face, his mouth hanging slightly open and eyelids twitching involuntarily. You often wondered what he dreamt about, as you did with anyone who fell asleep in your company. Dreams fascinated you; the weirder the better. Your workdays often started with your colleagues all sharing their wild and wonderful dreams from the night before, with the odd nightmare sprinkled in. If only you had a pound for every time your manager dreamt of losing his teeth…

Your bladder deceived you, the pressure growing the more you tried to ignore it. Sighing, you pushed the covers off your body, careful not to disturb the half that covered the sleeping driver beside you. You shuffled to the right, fingertips gently lowering Lando’s hand onto the pillow, hoping he didn’t stir. The fresh morning air whipped around your bare frame, and you resorted to hugging yourself as you tiptoed into the ensuite.

You moved with caution, tearing the toilet paper slowly and studying the squares as they ripped apart bit by bit. As much as you hated not flushing, you didn’t want to startle the poor guy, so you opted for closing the lid. That too was done carefully, not letting the wooden pieces make a single sound as they touched. You washed your hands quickly, scrubbing them dry on a towel, a comically bright orange towel with the McLaren logo plastered all over it. You’d laughed at it the first time you stayed over, Lando cursing himself for not hiding it before you arrived. You’d wondered where else random pieces of McLaren merchandise were going to pop up. Tea towels? Bed sheets? Branded cereal, perhaps?

On your way back to the bed, you scooped up Lando’s t-shirt from the night before, slipping it on and appreciating the fabric against your skin. It didn’t make a huge difference, but at least it covered the goosebumps scattered across your cold chest. Catching your reflection in the mirror, you combed your fingers through your hair, pushing loose strands out of your eyes. Hearing a rustling in the covers, you turned to see Lando stretching his arms above his head, his eyes still squeezed shut to avoid the morning light.

“Mm… Come back to bed.” He mumbled, propping his hands behind his head like he was laid on a sun lounger. You sat on the bed beside him, resting on your right hip and tucking your legs in to lift your feet off the ground. Feeling the mattress dip, a lazy smile spread across his face as he prized his eyes open halfway. “There you are.” You laid a hand on his chest, smiling down at him before his eyes fluttered closed once again. “Beautiful.”

You exhaled, amused by his compliment. “You can’t even see me.”

“I don’t need to.”

He could be cheesy sometimes, but part of you loved it. You’d always enjoyed making fun of your friends in their honeymoon phases, mimicking their partners and overusing their new nicknames. You’d waited a long time for it to be your turn, so you planned on soaking up every pet name, pick-up line, and spooning session until they grew tired of hearing about it. God knows you’d heard more than your fair share of romantic tales.

All you wanted to do was lie back down beside him and burrow your head beneath his arm, but the grease in your hair and mascara stuck in your tear ducts begged you to go home and shower.

Being in the early stages meant that overstaying your welcome was still a possibility. You had yet to lie in past 10am with Lando, and were always dressed and out of the door before he’d even shed the covers. You’d made a promise to yourself at the start that you wouldn’t let yourself get too attached or seem clingy. Whirlwind relationships always sounded good until they weren’t, and you’d experienced them one too many times to allow it to happen again. Besides, Lando never seemed to argue when you slipped out of bed and left before breakfast. To him, it seemed like you just enjoyed your own space. For the past eight Sundays, you’d detangled yourself from his grasp, thrown on your clothes from the night before and left him with a simple kiss on the cheek, all before he’d even managed to open his eyes properly. Most of those mornings he’d rolled over to your side of the bed, inhaling the traces of your perfume and replaying the events of the evening over and over in his head. One day he’d tell you to stay; he’d hide your keys if it meant he could spend a few more hours in bed with you... What did you like for breakfast? If he ordered pancakes, would you stay and split a plate with him? Was it brown or tomato sauce you had with your bacon?

Lando felt you fidgeting on the bed and rolled over to grab your arm. You looked down in surprise, turning your wrist to take his hand in yours. “What’s wrong?” You asked, his fingers soft and featherlike against your palm, following the lines from left to right.

“What time is it?”

“Um…” You leaned over, checking your phone on the bedside table. “It’s almost 9.30.”

He groaned, slumping forward to rest his head against your arm. You laughed, moving so his head fell into your lap and your hand settled in the top of his hair. Catching a curl around your finger, you studied the tones in his hair and how they each caught the sunlight. Sitting there quiet and content with him made you a little sad, as you didn’t want to leave. Part of you longed for Sundays spent together, movies on the sofa with last night’s leftovers heating up in the microwave. You knew it was a fool’s dream considering he ended up in a new country every weekend. You cursed yourself for following your silly little rule and not taking advantage of the time you did have. In less than a month, he’d be calling you from hotels in the middle of who knows where with bad reception and voices urging him to hurry up and get back to work.

Sighing, you tapped Lando’s shoulder, whispering for him to sit up. “I should get going.” You said hesitantly, forcing yourself to stand.

“Stay. Just a little longer.” He gazed at you with puppy dog eyes, his hair unruly on his forehead and cheeks lined with crease marks from his pillows.

“Look at me, Lando.” You scoffed, waving your hands in front of your face. “I am in serious need of a shower.”

“I have a shower.” He stated obviously, his eyes finally widening to their normal state as he propped himself up against the headboard. “Towels are in the cupboard on the third shelf.”

“I… Lando – “

“Y/N.” He tilted his head, looking at you with raised brows. “You’re allowed to stay and take a shower.”

His words were laced with so much more than what he was saying. He wanted you in his shower, stepping out to wrap yourself in one of his towels with your damp hair leaving droplets on the countertop. He wanted your footprints on the bathmat – hell, he’d even put up with your hair clogging the drains if it meant there were traces of you in his home. He wanted more than just the ghost of you at his kitchen counter or out on the patio.

He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stood up and approached the cupboard, choosing a fluffy blue towel from the shelf. He rolled out of the bed, following you to the bathroom and flicking the extractor fan on above your heads. “Alright. You’ve got the rainfall shower which you turn on by twisting this towards you.” He instructed, trying to hide the smile that was creeping its way onto his face. It was crazy how long he’d waited to show you something so simple.

He turned the rainfall shower on, letting the water heat up for you. “The detachable showerhead is the same, just turn it in the other direction towards the wall.”

He stepped to the side, letting you slip past him. You stood shyly, his shirt still hanging off your body. “Well, I’m not going to shower with you watching!” You laughed, folding your arms and waiting for him to leave.

“Why? It’s nothing I haven’t already seen.” He smirked, mirroring your stance. Your cheeks flushed red at his words, visions of last night swimming around your mind. You needed him to leave the bathroom before you dragged him under the water with you.

He turned to leave, mindlessly adjusting the hand towels on the rack. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you. There’s a spare toothbrush in the cabinet too.”

“Are you saying I have smelly breath?” You gasped, watching as he turned back to face you with the same cheeky grin on his face.

“Oh yes. That is exactly what I’m saying.”

Pulling the shirt over your head, you screwed it into a ball and threw it at him, hitting him square in the face and blocking his view. You turned to face the shower, leaving him with a foggy view of your backside through the textured glass. “Not fair!” He shouted over the running water as you dunked your messy hair beneath the stream.

“Get out, you pervert!”

He left the bathroom laughing to himself, closing the door behind him. He rushed to tidy the room a little, making sure to leave the clothes he promised on the bed. He took the liberty of putting your clothes in the wash with his, hoping you’d be okay with it.

When you surfaced from the bathroom with the towel tucked around your body and a beaming smile on your face, he swore he could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage. “Better?” He asked, sliding the pile of clothes your way.

“Much. Thank you.” You took the clothes, Lando turning away to give you some privacy whilst you changed. “Where should I put the towel?” You asked, giving him the all-clear to look at you.

“Just throw it in the hamper. I’ll sort it later.”

“Oh, I didn’t know where to put the toothbrush so it’s just in the pot beside yours.”

He smiled, looking at you but not saying a word. “What?” You asked, glancing down at yourself then back to him. “What’s wrong?”

Patting the space next to him on the bed, you sat down, pulling your wet hair over one shoulder. “I was thinking…” He started, reaching to grab your hand. Running his fingers over your knuckles, he studied the curiosity on your face as he rehearsed the words in his head. “Why don’t you leave the toothbrush in the pot?”

You didn’t catch on at first, but his words soon made sense as he shuffled closer to you, his thigh pressed against yours. Your face ached from smiling, Lando’s expression perfectly reflecting yours. “It’s convenient, you know?” He played it cool, earning him a playful slap on the chest.

“Yeah, sure! Convenience.” You mocked, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“By the way…” He spoke into your ear, his lips brushing against the lobe, tickling you. “I put your clothes in the wash, so you won’t be leaving anytime soon.” He drew back to look at you, surprised to see you still smiling.

“Good job I wasn’t planning on it anyway.” Throwing a leg over his, you straddled his lap and rested your arms around his neck.  He leaned forward, catching your lips with his and kissing you gently. Wet droplets from your hair fell onto his bare shoulder, making him shiver and laugh into the kiss. Pulling away, you swiped the water away with your hand, sliding off his lap and linking your fingers with his. He stood, grabbing the nearest hoodie hanging on the bed post and throwing it over his shoulder as he led you out of the bedroom and towards the stairs.

“So… breakfast?” His voice was muffled as he squeezed the hoodie over his head, stepping cautiously so he didn’t tumble down the stairs.

“Sounds good. What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m easy. I’ll have anything.” He opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice, turning to find you resting your elbows on the kitchen island. Something about you in his house, in his clothes, made his stomach do somersaults. It quickly became his favourite sight.

Pouring two glasses of juice, he slid one over to you, taking a seat on one of the stools. “How did you sleep by the way?” He asked, sipping his drink and snuggling up to you to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Pretty good. You?”

“The same… But I did have this really weird dream.”

Your ears perked up at his words and you turned to look at him eagerly. “Tell me all about it.”

[sooniebby]

Hi, were you accepting request? if so, could i request a nsfw fiction? where m!reader is having an intimate night with his soft boyfriend (any male character you're simping for) who's happy to pop m!reader's virginity and bottomed him out with lots of cum!

“would you look at this? there's a bulge inside you, so adorable just like you..”

ఌ 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈

❝ 𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚?! ❞

꧁ 𝘿𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙞 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Word count › 1.9k

Rating › NSFW

Warnings › cringy idiots having sex

Kinks › creampie

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Denji was ready. He prepared everything in advance—something he rarely does which told Aki and Power that he indeed was serious. The small apartment they shared was empty with just Denji and his boyfriend, (Name). They had been dating for almost six months which was honestly a record for Denji. 

He was honestly not sure what shocked him the most: that he was dating a man or that their relationship lasted more than a week. 

But he had gotten over that. Denji silently smirked to himself, not noticing the raised eyebrows he got from (Name). 

Honestly, (Name) should’ve been used to Denji’s strange quirks by now. 

(Name) was only an inch taller than Denji and had more muscle on him compared to his previously malnourished boyfriend. Maybe that’s why Denji thought (Name) was supposed to take the lead in the relationship. 

That’s what the comics showed. 

“Denji, if you’re done smiling to yourself, can you pass me the remote?” (Name) asked, holding his hand out. Denji bristled but handed him the remote, eyeing the other beside him. 

Okay, maybe he was just stupid, but wasn’t something supposed to happen by now? 

(Name) changed the channels until it was on some random action movie. He hummed as he moved to rest his head on Denji’s lap, getting himself comfortable. Denji couldn’t help his urge to tangle his hand in (Name)’s hair, doing some little braids that would be a pain to undo later. 

It stayed like that for a moment—just the two enjoying each other’s company. 

“Something wrong?” (Name) asked. 

Denji hummed. “No. Why?” That was one of the weird things about (Name). It was like he was able to feel whenever Denji was overthinking something. 

“You’ve been on edge ever since I got here.” (Name) moved to sit up to look at Denji. “Was it…?” He trailed off to let Denji get the idea. (Name) hated Makima and really any one that took advantage of Denji’s naivety but he knew not to state it outloud. 

Who knew if she could hear their every move? 

Denji frowned. Damn, did he really suck at hiding his emotions? “Uh, well, it’s really just I thought you’d do something by now.” 

“Do what?” 

“Sex.” 

(Name) blushed. If this was any other situation, Denji would’ve began celebrating since it was practically impossible to get (Name) to blush. But right now, he was worried his boyfriend would faint from overheating. 

Was he embarrassed by sex? 

“Do you not want to have sex? You’ve dated before.” Denji said. 

“But….” (Name) looked away. “I’ve never had sex before.” 

Denji blinked. 

No way. 

No fucking way! 

“Huh?!” He yelled, a bit too loud for (Name) who suddenly turned back to stare at him with a scowl on his face. 

“What?! Why’s that so hard to believe?” 

“How can you date other people but not have sex?” 

“I was scared…” (Name) muttered. 

Denji was so confused. How could (Name) fight devils with no issue but he somehow had a problem with having sex? Denji stared at him with a confused look that only embarrassed (Name) even more. They stayed like that for a moment while the movie continued on in the background. 

“Was this why you wanted to have this sleepover?” (Name) asked, his cheeks finally returning to back to normal. 

Denji shrugged. “Half of it. I also just wanted to spend time with you.” 

(Name) bit his lip. “We can have sex but I might be a bit bad…” 

“It’s not like I’ve ever had sex ,” Denji stated. 

“I should get ready then,” (Name) said, standing up. 

“Ready for what?” 

“….for you to fuck me, did you forget already?” (Name) asked, his usual snappiness coming back. 

Denji paused. “You…. You’ll take my dick inside you?!” He asked, shocked at the new development. 

(Name) stared at him as if he was crazy. “Yeah, I don’t want to top. Besides, I doubt you know how to open yourself.” 

“Open myself?!” 

“Do you even know what has to happen for us to have sex?! Neither of us have a vagina!” 

“I thought the person who had the biggest dick tops.” 

(Name) frowned. “Where did you learn all of this?” 

“Manga….” 

“Just ask me next time. But you have the bigger dick anyway.” (Name) said, walking away to the bathroom. 

Denji blinked. 

Wait how did he know that? 

ꕤ

(Name) was scared. Yeah, sure, he had been wanting to have sex with Denji but he was also terrified. A dick was supposed to go inside his asshole. That’s scary! What if it tears him open?! 

He sighed, looking around in the bathroom for any type of lube. Much to his surprise, he did. He tried not to imagine who this belonged to. (Name) walked over to the small bedroom that Denji was already in, pacing around. 

“You okay?” 

Denji nodded, stopping in his tracks. “I quickly read one of Aki’s hidden porn mag and saw what I have to do.” 

“Uh, okay. Do you mind getting out so I prepare?” 

“No. I wanna see.” Denji said before quickly realising how harsh he sounded. “If you don’t mind…” 

(Name) controlled his urge to pout. “Sure, fine. Just don’t look at me weird.” He slipped off his pyjamas and laid down on the bed. It was a bit odd to be fully naked in front of Denji but he tried to ignore it as he slipped off his boxers. 

With shaky hands, he grabbed the lube to squeeze out a generous amount and went straight to his ass. (Name) moved himself to where his legs was pulled closer to his chest as he easily slipped in a finger inside himself. 

“So easily?” Denji asked, not noticing the look of embarrassment on (Name)’s face. 

“I masturbated this morning…” He whispered, slipping in another finger with ease. It was somehow making him horny to masturbate in front of his boyfriend. Maybe he was a pervert.

Soft moans left (Name)’s lips as he tried to open himself up as much as possible. His face was dusted pink, feeling the watchful eyes of Denji. He wondered what he was thinking. 

Did he think he was sexy? 

“(Name)…” 

“Mmh?” 

Denji was way closer than he was earlier. He stared at (Name) as he gently reached over and parted his legs even further to get a better look. 

“Your legs are in the way.” Denji said, grinning at the whine of embarrassment he got from (Name). “Are you ready?” 

(Name) glanced down at the bulge in Denji’s pants and gulped. He was ready physically but mentally? 

“Yeah. Just don’t go so hard…” 

Denji simply grinned and motioned for (Name) to lay down. He pulled down his pants, not having worn boxers, and grabbed some lube to spread on his cock. It was a bit cold… 

This certainly wasn’t his own lube. 

Oh. 

He shuddered at the thought of either Power or Aki using it. (Name) was too busy counting cats in his head to notice Denji’s panicked thinking. A laugh caught his attention as (Name) looked down to see Denji in between his legs. 

“What are you laughing at?” 

“Nothing…. It’s just I thought since you were bigger than me that you’d have a bigger dick,” Denji said, staring at down at (Name)’s 4 inch dick that seemed to twitch under his gaze. (Name) glared at him, sitting up to get a glance at Denji’s cock when his skin turned pale. 

“What the fuck…?” 

“What? Is it ugly?” 

“No… Are you a grower?!” 

The one time (Name) had saw Denji’s cock, it was large but not as big as it is now. It had to be close to eight inches than the five that he last saw. Denji blushed while a confident smile grew on his lips. 

(Name) rolled his eyes but laid back down. Denji took that as a sign to go ahead. He inched in closer and pressed his dick right at (Name)’s hole that was dripping with the copious amount of lube he had used earlier. It was a bit scary for (Name) but Denji was excited. 

This was way better than what he imagined. 

He was going to give his boyfriend the best night of his life. 

With one swift movement, he easily pushed inside. (Name)’s breathing hitched, a soft whine leaving his lips. He gripped the bed sheets beneath him as Denji continued to push his entire length inside. It should’ve embarrassed him at how easily he took him in but he was sort of proud of his body. 

Once Denji was fully inside, their skin touching, he finally looked down at (Name)’s stomach. It was a bit toned from the work they did but still had a softness that he loved to play with. But there was something causing (Name)’s stomach to bulge. 

Was it his dick? 

“(Name).” 

Only a pitiful whimper left (Name)’s lips. 

“There’s a bulge inside of you from me.” 

(Name) let out a gasp of concern as he glanced down to see it was indeed true. He was shocked. And horny as his lower region tightened around Denji’s dick. Denji groaned and a playful smirk appeared on his lips. 

Denji trailed a hand on (Name)’s stomach and lightly touched the bulge. He leaned down to press a kiss on his lips. 

“It’s cute, like you.” 

With that, he began to slowly pull out and slam back inside. (Name) mouth opened in a silent scream as Denji used most of his strength to keep up the harsh motion. (Name) wanted to kill Denji for not going slow like he wanted but he couldn’t deny that it felt so good. 

There was a constant pressure on something inside of him. Whenever Denji so much as brushed it—(Name)’s body jerked upwards as he moaned. Their neighbors were going to kill them in the morning. 

(Name) reached over to wrap his arms around Denji’s neck, bringing him close to kiss him once more. This only seemed to make Denji gain more energy as he reached down and grasped (Name)’s right leg, pulling it up more to gain more space to move faster. 

The position for (Name) was a bit uncomfortable but he had no time to complain. 

Denji pulled away from the kiss and groaned. “I see why you wanted to bottom. I feel like I’m going to pass out already.” He said, his thrusts getting considerably inconsistent. 

(Name) smirked, “aw, you can’t handle it?” Denji simply stared at him as if he shouldn’t have said that.

Maybe he shouldn’t have because obviously the guy with a devil living inside of him has more power than the average human. 

It could’ve been, maybe almost ten minutes, of Denji’s inhumane thrusts. (Name)’s stomach was covered in his own cum that had began to be more watery after the third time. His throat was sore and honestly he wished he kept his damn mouth shut. 

“Denji…” he whined. 

Denji simply hummed, nipping at (Name)’s neck as he slowed down his thrusts. 

“Finish already. I’m so tired…” 

“Fine, fine. I’m close anyway,” Denji grunted, easily flipping over (Name) to lay on his knees and face away from him. It took only a few more harsh thrusts that deliberately touched the magic spot inside of (Name) as they both cummed with the other’s name on their lips. 

(Name) groaned, wanting to sleep. He could feel the hot cum inside of him that felt like an amount no normal human could realistically make but Denji wasn’t exactly human anymore. With his head on the pillow, he was about to fall asleep as Denji pulled out only to feel him push the cum dripping out back inside of him. 

“Denji!” 

“What? Don’t want it to spill.” 

(Name) headed chuckling before feeling Denji push his cock back inside. 

And it was still hard. 

“Do you mind going for a few more rounds? I still have stamina in me!” 

(Name) was done for. 

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

First ever request!! Thank you so much for idea! I choose Denji so hopefully you know him or at the very least enjoy the story!

Requests are open so if you got any ideas, feel free to send me them!

Feedback greatly appreciated too! Thanks for reading

[noodlewritez]

An afternoon with you

Pairings: Carl Grimes X GN!Reader

A/N: Just a little drabble, kinda bad but I like writing fluff, please don't hate

You and Carl were alone in the Grimes' house which was usually a bad sign to Rick as he would always say "I don't want another kid runnin' around here" or "You are way too young to be thinkin' about this stuff anyway".

But today was different, you were cramping up and sore, there was no way in hell you were doing anything sexual. So here you sat with the leader's son...braiding his hair,

"Your hair is so soft after you shower" You smile. He chuckles lightly and thanks you. You twist the soft, fluffy tufts into braids as you two enjoy each other's company, talking about recent runs and new comics he'd found.

He jokingly brags about the new comics, showing them to you. "Read 'em and weep!" He boasts. "You are so lucky, I've been wanting that new 52 comic for ages!" You giggle.

"What can I say? I have impeccable taste." He smiles as you tie a hair tie around the two braids you twisted into his hair. You turn to face him from the front to admire your hard work, trying to find any loose hair or loose strands and you find none. You smile and nod, proud of your work.

Carl gets up to go to the bathroom to scope it out with you and at first, he's shocked to see his hair's long enough for 2 braids that length and then he smiles softly, looking at you in the reflection which catches you off guard and causes you to blush.

"Do you like it?"

"I adore it." He says, hugging you and squeezing

[seelestia]

— thoughts of saccharine.

two cubes of sugar for each daydream.

#STARRING: wanderer, kaveh, alhaitham, cyno, tighnari, wanderer w/ gn!reader.

#GENRE: fluff, crack-ish but that's just how i write fluff, headcanons/hcs.

#NOTES: mentions of kisses, one implied injury but nothing graphic, cyno's reader isn't a qualified doctor (sorry to the med students).

#THOUGHTS: comically enough, i spent more time on the formatting than the writing itself. maybe i'll play around with them more often? anywho, here is a little smth before fontaine and while i work on other stuff per usual! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

© seelestia on tumblr, aug 2023. do not repost to other sites, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

thinking about . . . how wanderer says he 'could care less' about what you do or where you go, always averting his gaze with that disinterested look. it's true, he hates getting caught up in people's business but good riddance, why does he find himself sticking to your side? maybe, he finds your company tolerable (preferable) or that he might even possibly harbor worry for your safety. the wanderer doesn't have a definite answer to this and so, all he can do is insist that he is only here to make sure you don't do anything 'stupid' — yet, he stays so close to you that he could've reached out for your hand if he wished. right, if only pride wasn't an option.

thinking about . . . how wanderer drums his cold fingers on your bare skin while knowing that they are as cold as ice, for a puppet is bereft of humanly warmth, just to incite a reaction out of you. whether it be little yelps, flinches or frowns, he'll drink them all up with an amused snicker. "too cold?" he'd ask oh-so teasingly — but bring his hands up to your lips and press a kiss to them, then you'd see how his eyes dilate and his lips quiver. who's got the upper hand now? (you do, before he snatches his hand away flusteredly and calls you 'an impulsive fool', that is.)

thinking about . . . how you're the first person kaveh looks for when it comes to everything (literally). sorry, he can't help it; but if you think it's good, then it must be really good, right? his clothes today, menu suggestions, your opinion on a performance you saw at the bazaar together and more — but oh, his architecture drafts can be a different story because he gets pouty with those. (just give him a kiss and it'll wipe itself away, easy peasy?)

thinking about . . . how kaveh would set aside some mora with you in mind. when it comes to food or other expenses, he complains about them with no reservations — but your favorite dish? or the item you were eyeing the other day? knowing that you will tell him not to trouble himself, he can only beg the traveler and paimon to keep quiet when he keeps stumbling into them when he's out buying a secret gift for you. seriously, why does this always happen to him? (huh, who would've thought that kaveh finally learnt a bit more about financial management thanks to you? "how surprising," a certain someone with gray hair and green clothes comments.)

thinking about . . . how instead of one, there are two mugs on alhaitham's kitchen table every morning. as an early bird, he knows that hydration is something much needed in the morning, so he always prepares two; one for his daily dose of caffeine and the other for your preferred drink. you never recalled asking him to do so — "and you didn't," he affirms, he just gradually incorporated it into his routine. alhaitham states it's for efficiency because he can handle sleepiness somewhat better than you (how offensive). but maybe, the way you always sleepily press a kiss to his cheek as thanks meant something too.

thinking about . . . how alhaitham lets out just the quietest sigh of relief when he realizes you're the one entering his office and not a colleague. for someone so diligent about work (he never claimed he is), he sure perks up when you visit him at work. ask him about it and alhaitham will say that he doesn't know what you're talking about — but the moment you go behind the desk and offer yourself for him to lean on, believe it or not, he melts into you so easily. (...just a little, though.)

thinking about . . . how cyno places his hood on your head when no one is around. you're not a hanger for hats, but he says that you're "cap-tivating" so it makes sense (please send help). regardless, the general does it as his own unique form of affection; he only ever takes off his head accessory around people he trusts and he thinks you look adorable with it on. not to mention, it also has his scent so he's technically marking you as his territory. relax, he's just joking. (or is he? just make a note to ask about his shampoo next time... unless he's into that all-natural stuff.)

thinking about . . . how as a general, cyno is used to speaking in a clear and precise tone with his subordinates and co-workers. but when he's here, sitting beside you while your nimble fingers make light work of bandaging his arm, his lips can't part themselves to say anything else besides a "sorry" mumbled with a pang of guilt. you tell him it's alright as long as he comes home to you at the end of the day and he refuses to be treated by anyone else ever since. ("sir, but they're not a qualified doctor." "...your point is?")

thinking about . . . how tighnari's tail always seems to have a mind of its very own; curling around your leg or wrist almost idly, almost as if it's just second nature when you're near enough to be reached. you have a suspicion that he's trying to communicate an unspoken wish — but ask tighnari about it and he'll say it just does that sometimes. you're pleasantly shocked he didn't ask if you sniffed any odd mushrooms that day (...you didn't, you think).

thinking about . . . how tighnari gives your head a little pat after you complete a task he gave (or didn't give) you. finished sweeping the floor? pat, pat. taught collei how to do her homework? pat, pat. oh, you rearranged the bookshelf when he complained about not having time for it last night? pat, pat, pat. at this point, you don't even know if he realizes he does this — but really, this is just a way to say that he's proud of you without being too overly mushy. no, it's not patronizing and no, he isn't going to admit that he has a soft spot for you in a professional setting. though, the way he'd pull back his hand at the speed of light when a ranger walks in on his patting you is a little funny.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgblade-starrail @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops @lleoll @xiaosonlybeloved @chiisananingen @irethepotato @ainescribe @blooodyvampy @starlightaura @jihyuniepark @duhsies @maybemiko @lordbugs @sakkakuu-squared @lupicalbestwolf @c-a-v-a-l-r-y — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged due to visibility settings / unnotified url changes + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

© written by @seelestia, 2033. do not copy, translate, repost to other sites nor claim as yours.

[soapyghostie]

hii ^_^ can you do slasher hcs, can be anyone you choose, with a child!Reader (platonic ofc) suddenly saying a bad word infront of them? Lol idk i just thought that it would be a funny scenario, you dont have to do it if u dont want to btw :3 have a nice day!

Since this was a free-bee, I took the chance to write for a couple slashers I haven’t gotten a chance to write for yet. One of them is one I’ve written for multiple times already, but I know how y'all are and that Michael Myers content. Y’all will eat that shit up. Well anyway, enjoy!

Charles ‘Chucky’ Lee Ray

Chucky, known for his foul-mouthed and sarcastic personality, would most definitely burst into a fit of maniacal laughter upon hearing the inappropriate language that just came out of your mouth. He finds the situation very amusing, secretly proud of your choice of words. He used to think you were a deadbeat child, but it seems you are starting to take after him in terms of mischief and a devil-may-care attitude. Maybe he’ll give you a shot.

He’d playfully scold you for stealing the spotlight, jokingly reminding you that he’s the only one allowed to say those kinds of words while giving you a wink. He’s pretending to act like a normal parent would if their child cursed so Tiffany doesn’t throw dishes at his head again for god knows what he did beforehand. Anyways, besides the friendly reminder to be careful about where and when to use foul language, Chucky feels a sense of camaraderie in their rebellious spirit that he’s never expressed before. Is this care and kindness he feels? It can’t be! He’s an evil serial killer with no feelings for anyone! Just between you and me, he did care about you in his own way from the beginning. He just hates to admit it and ignored the feeling for a long time. 

Chucky giving you lessons in creative cursing is a must: in a private setting of course. He doesn’t want to have to deal with Tiffany’s scolding about encouraging and, even worse, teaching you such bad behavior. However, if the language goes too far (cursing Tiffany out), Chucky will actually draw a line and sternly explain the importance of knowing when and where such language is appropriate.

Stu Macher

Stu, being the laid-back and humorous person he is, most likely burst out into a fit of laughter initially, thinking it’s just a child’s innocent mistake. However, he’s taken aback. He was not expecting to hear such foul language come out of your mouth and especially wasn’t ready for it since he’s normally making the crude jokes himself rather than hearing it from a child. 

Stu would exchange an amused glance and playfully scold you, reminding you that it’s not appropriate to use such language, especially in front of company. However, Stu may share a few inappropriate jokes of his own, trying to bond with you through your humor. God dammit Stu! Don’t be a bad influence like Chucky is! 

If you continue to use inappropriate language, Stu will employ a more serious tone and discuss the consequences of your behavior. If you don’t listen to him after that (I don’t know how you could not because Stu never serious), Stu will probably be like, “Well what the fuck! Who cares?” and will join in and playfully participate with you. 

Michael Myers

Michael would remain expressionless and unreactive to hearing you say the inappropriate word. He will convey his disapproval through his body language though, such as a stern gaze or a slow shake of his head. You pick up on these cues, going from comical and bright to eerie and uncomfortable, understanding that your words are unacceptable.

Michael does expect immediate compliance, and you are expected to correct your behavior under his imposing presence. In rare cases, Michael will intervene if your behavior becomes continuous and punish you, such as grounding you or giving you a whoopin, to teach you a lesson about the consequences of your behavior. 

Once Michael decides you’ve been punished long enough, if you got the ‘your grounded to your room’ punishment, he’ll make his way to your room and have a conversation with you to instill the importance of respectful behavior. You two end up having a good talk, ending with you promising to use more appropriate language from here on out and Michael promising to get you a tub of ice cream on his next outing if you have good behavior.

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [3]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory

Words: 8.8k

ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.

edit: please comment if you want to be added to the tag list :DD

[1] [2] [3]

__________

For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.

It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.

One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home. 

In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.

But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.

Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?

You don't know.

And you hate not knowing.

To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.

“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”

Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects. 

They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask. 

Stunned, you followed the woman without question.

A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.

Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.

All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’ . 

Whatever it is, you're thankful. 

“Hey, you still with us?”

Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “Yes I am, unnie. Just frustrated about something...”

At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.

Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.

Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.

“Is it boy problems?”

Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.

“Which one of them?”

“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”

“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the styling department.”

“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”

“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”

Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.

“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”

Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.

In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.

It was absurd. 

Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.

(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)

To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.

“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.

Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”

“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”

Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.

“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit. 

At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.

Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.

There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.

So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.

“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.

“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”

At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”

“Not when it's as rude as yours.”

Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”

You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.

That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.

You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.

Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.

You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.

“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”

Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”

“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”

“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.

The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.

“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”

You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.

The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.

Almost.

“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”

“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”

The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.

           [13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor

           [13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏

           [13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁

There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.

           [12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon!

           [13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during.

           [13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁

You briefly grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.

           [13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢

           [13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona

           [13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba

           [13:04] Hobi: YAY

           [13:04] You: how can I help you?

           [13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁

           [13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance

           [13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it

           [13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺

           [13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room?

           [13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver

           [13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise

           [13:07] Hobi: but yes😁

           [13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁

“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.

“Who is it?” Nabi adds.

“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”

With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at. 

The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.

If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.

Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.

“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”

“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”

“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner .”

“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”

“What are we talking about?”

Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.

“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”

When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.

He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch. 

Yoongi had teased you when he found you being trailed by another kid, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. Especially when his soulmates began to follow his footsteps.

“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”

Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.

“You know that we love you right, noona?”

Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.

“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit—”

“Okay, what do you guys want?”

You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.

“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words.

“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”

“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.

“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”

“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”

“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing  a cross over his chest. The other four follow.

Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful. 

Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.

“He's not that scary, guys.”

Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”

“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.

“What—”

The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room. 

In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.

Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.

From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.

It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest. 

Is your friendship still okay? 

Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group? 

Should you have chosen someone as your sister had told you to do? 

They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.

But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.

“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”

“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The five shared a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main topics of your thoughts sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging the water from the small bottle in hand.

As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.

“Noona!”

At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.

As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.

“You’ve got five ducklings following you, noona, didn't know you started collecting more after our maknaes.” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”

They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whisper-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.

A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s overly formal actions.

“H-Hi sunbae.”

“Hello, Soobinie.”

“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”

“ Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds and immediately, the boy almost broke his neck with how face he looked over his shoulder.

“Then go do it yourself!”

“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.

There's a tap on your shoulder and you look over to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.

There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as you both gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.

Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.

“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you.”

“You didn't need to, I already ate.”

“I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”

It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.

After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams. 

It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.

Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.

“Thank you Jinnie, but I already ate.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”

“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”

“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”

Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”

“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.

“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.” 

You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.

“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!” 

“I should’ve bitten your hands at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.

Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nudged his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.

Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.

“Wh-what is this?”

“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do. It was in the way he tried soothing you with back rubs and this tight hug.

“I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”

He sighed.

“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”

Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”

His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”

“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”

“He told me when he and Tae took him home.”

“Then you should know better than defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”

With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument. 

Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.

“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later."

“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”

A beat.

Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”

Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.

Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.

Taking one of the containers, you open it to see bulgogi generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.

“Is it all bulgogi?”

Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.

“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”

“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.

“That's not a proper answer.”

“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.

Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.

But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day. 

But fried rice isn't healthy.

“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.

With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.

“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”

“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”

Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.

You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.

When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.

“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”

People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are always willing to provide.

If you had asked them for something as ludicrous as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.

Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.

You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.

He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—, saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.

It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.

Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?’

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

           [13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building

You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message. His office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days? 

Love , a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.

There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him yet he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.

During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.

You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.

Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.

Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessing and odd behaviors shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.

There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness ; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.

           [13:55] You: Oh wow, which one?

           [13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe.

           [13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me?

           [13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you

           [13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁

“Who is it?”

“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”

Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowed and observing as he leaned back on his chair. You feel his eyes regard your body language before sighing.

“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”

His appearance would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.

But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?

You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?

“How’d you know I need help?”

“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”

Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face. 

“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”

“I-I am.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”

You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.

“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”

“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”

“I actually do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”

“What is it?”

“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”

You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.

“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”

With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.

“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”

“Well I did, so deal with it,” He placed down his bottle. “Do you need my help or not?”

“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”

He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”

While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses matched with a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.

The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenager's bad boy wet dreams.

Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.

There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry once the discomfort born from conflicting feelings subsides. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.

It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.

The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for. 

It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.

“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”

“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”

He chuckled lightly. “Good.”

Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls . 

Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.

“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and unrelenting stare.

Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.

It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?

“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”

“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”

Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back, completely unfazed.

Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.

‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.

Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.

“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”

Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”

Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.

“She's been telling you guys about me?”

“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”

Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.

“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”

“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”

He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”

“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”

His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching. For what? You don’t want to know. When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.

“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”

“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”

The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”

When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patron’s stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.

Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and and you just happen to be assigned to him that day.

You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat. 

“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”

Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You shivered.

A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder and Yoongi tugs you back to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt. 

You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.

“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you.”

Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.

“Message me when you’re home, alright?”

Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was three gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door. 

You could understand the reason for his irritation, always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.

But why does he have to walk so fast?! 

You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on

He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before. 

But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.

“I don’t like him.”

It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.

(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)

“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”

“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”

“So he's a pretentious prick?”

You sighed. “H-He just—”

“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone would. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”

You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night. 

Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?

Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?

“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”

“That's dumb.”

He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”

“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.

“ Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it stopped as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”

“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”

“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for me to renew our contract next year and I'll marry you.” 

He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you—until today—have no recollection of what had been uttered.

You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you were.

“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”

“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, what else would you need?”

“Seokjin also got those.”

He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a playful glint in his eyes.

“You know what they say about my tongue right?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.

When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.

“ Shit , I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”

[mpreg-is-always-possible]

Better

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x gn!reader

Tags: Angst, divorce, losing a child, graveyard, reference to child neglect, reference to canon typical violence, grief

Notes: so I’m very new to this fandom and haven’t actually read the comics yet but I’ve been reading a lot of fanfics and couldn’t get this out of my head. Also I tried to keep reader gender neutral but I did write and edit this in the middle of the night on my phone so please let me know if a rouge pronoun that isn’t ’you’ made its way in. Thanks for reading and please enjoy!

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Falling in love with Bruce had been foolish. Marrying him was an act of down right insanity. You knew it would end one way or another but you had deluded yourself into believing your husband’s crusade couldn’t come at the expense of Jason’s life. Gotham needs Batman and Batman needs Robin. But why did Robin need to be the boys you had come to see as sons?

Or a one shot of the events leading up to your and Bruce’s divorce after Jason Todd’s death

Officially, you and Bruce had divorced only six months ago. Truly though, your relationship had ended nearly three years ago when Bruce came home without Jason. His Robin went off to do the one thing Batman wouldn’t, and the next thing you know your son is in the ground.

The grief was all consuming. You fell to your knees when Bruce told you. Alfred said the scream you let out would haunt him for the rest of his life but the memory of it was lost to you. Those early days after Jason’s death are blurry still. The only tangible feeling being the heavy hole Jason left behind in your chest.

You’re not sure where Bruce went after that. He grew so distant the only time you saw him was to discuss funeral arrangements. After the funeral you don’t really see your husband for the next month. When asked, Alfred informed you Bruce was staying in the cave believing you needed space. Alfred had clearly disapproved of that but Bruce was right. She did need space from him, from Batman.

It’s not a point of pride that you grew to hate him in the early months after. Thoughts of revealing his extra curricular activity plagued you. As much as Gotham needs Batman, Bruce needs Batman too. He needs to protect his city and build towards a future where his parents' deaths wouldn’t ever be repeated. But how could that future exist when Batman won’t even kill Joker? How could it exist without Jason?

The idea is tempting but you never act on it. Revealing Batman’s identity wouldn’t only endanger you but Alfred and Dick as well. You couldn’t stand losing them too. Dick decided to come back to Gotham for a while after the funeral, just to be there for you and Bruce. Bruce tried to send him back to Bludhaven but you had put your foot down. “We just buried one son and now you want to push another way,” you had yelled at him, his face as stony as ever. He acquiesced.

Dick and Alfred tried to get the two of you to talk to each other. Dick would often try to essentially parent trap you and Bruce in various rooms around the manor, inviting both to watch a movie or asking for help with something but not tell you that he’d asked you both. By the second week Alfred refused to bring Bruce’s food down to the cave, forcing him to eat with you. By the end of the month the two just threw out the cot in the cave and Bruce took a bed in a guest room. Their efforts made it seem like Bruce was imposing his absence on you, and maybe he was but there was no comfort to be found in his company, not anymore.

Their antics went on for another month after that until you sat them down and told them to stop. They had for a few days. When Alfred “mistakenly” served Bruce’s food upstairs one night, you cornered him afterwards to tell him you were considering leaving Bruce. “I cannot fault you but he’s the closest I have to a son and I’m afraid another upset would cause him to spiral more. It’s too much to ask but can you please stay until the grief isn’t so raw.”

That’s when you noticed Bruce had bruises and cuts in places he was normally careful to keep clear of thug’s fists and knives. Dick told you he was fighting so much harder; The criminals had started to whisper fears of the bat starting to kill soon. You didn’t think he would go that far, and Dick agreed but he could tell his father wasn’t far off.

So your marriage continued. You woke up alone, went about your day, had dinner with Bruce before he left for patrol, then went to bed. Galas and various other functions for Wayne Enterprises or Bruce's charity events were the only time you two truly acted like there wasn’t this vast distance between you. Most of the time it made your skin crawl to act like things were fine, but occasionally you could pretend - Jason wasn’t dead, he was just trying to find where the servers smoked to join them. Then someone would offer condolences and the facade would break.

It was around this time when you began to visit Jason’s grave. It had been too painful to see it before. The words ‘Jason Todd: Beloved son and brother’ etched in stone had followed you into nightmares for months. But you needed to get out of the house and Jason had spent too long without a visit from you. At first, they were short somewhat sporadic outings - tiptoeing in about once every other week to leave flowers, often leaving them next to a bouquet or two some else had already gifted. After a while, you warmed up to a quick hello and some highlights from the week before, then had graduated to speaking at the tombstone for hours about life after him every week. It was cathartic and maybe a little sad but those one sided conversations became the one place you could talk about the complexity of your family’s situation without having to sugar coat it or be reminded of how staying was helpful to Batman.

For two years this went on and Batman’s anger didn’t cool. Bruce still came home with black eyes, bleeding knuckles, and the occasional gunshot. The hate in your belly for him had dulled considerably to the point where you had begun to patch his wounds up again out of respect for the love you once had. You might be angry with him but you didn’t want him to get himself killed.

When the neighbor boy, Tim Drake, had knocked on your door, you couldn’t have guessed that he came to express his worry for Batman, for Bruce. You and Alfred listened as he waxed poetic about how Gotham needs Batman but Batman needs Robin. The hole in your chest that had since grown less noticeable ached because he was right and it made you want to spit. As Alfred excused himself to get the Robin uniform for the boy, you grasped his thin shoulders and looked into his face, colored in righteous determination.

“The last Robin was murdered, Tim.”

“I know Jason died, but -“

“Bruce will try to push you away. Don’t let him.”

Watching Tim run out the door in the red and green suit made your stomach turn. It wasn’t what you wanted but you had never had a say in that side of your husband's life. The two of you thought more with your heart than with your head when you decided to get married, but you weren’t so love drunk to think that the marriage wasn’t nearly guaranteed to fail. You even expected it to end because of his crusade. You just wished it didn’t come at the expense of your son.

It was foolish to think this new Robin wouldn't worm his way into your heart just as the two before did and maybe it was selfish but you couldn’t do it again. There was no way Bruce could just stop, but you didn’t need to stand by his side while he did it. It was a miracle that only Jason had died.

Despite your efforts to keep Tim at arms length, he was a sweet kid and it was impossible to ignore him. Plus you knew his parents weren’t paying nearly enough attention to him so he needed someone looking out for Tim and not just Robin.

Bruce had been better at keeping the boy out. He let Dick do most of Tim’s training and really only spoke to him about vigilante things. But the armor slowly but surely cracked. It didn’t escape you or Alfred when Bruce began to request foods that you knew Tim liked or when he had Alfred set up a guest room that was meant for Tim to use when needed. A year in and Bruce had long stopped coming home from patrol with careless injuries.

You knew it was coming. You anticipated everyday that Bruce would come home from patrol and tell you Tim had accepted the mantle. When it actually happened though, it still sent ice through your veins.

“Tim’s passed every test Dick and I have given him. I offered him Robin and he said yes.”

“I knew he would.”

“I don’t want him to be.”

“I know.” A moment passed and then you said “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“I know.”

The divorce was quick. Neither of you wanted anything from the other. Bruce offered alimony but you refused. You kept your job after getting married but you never touched your salary, leaving you with a nice nest egg to start your new life with. Alfred and Dick were sad but they understood. They knew you sacrificed a lot to stay with Bruce even before Jason died, but after you gave more than you had.

Tim didn't really know what your marriage looked like before but he took on its demise all the same. Your heart broke when Bruce told you Tim had tried to give Robin back in an attempt to make Bruce reconcile with you.

“Tim, if I had it my way none of you would be going out every night fighting thugs and criminal masterminds but you were right; Gotham needs Batman and Batman needs Robin. Unfortunately, it’s become too much for me but Bruce won’t stop. He can’t but he needs someone like you there to make him remember himself.”

Tim just nodded his head and went back to the manor.

Dick and Tim visited you at your small apartment in Gotham as often as they could. Though between Dicks commute from Bludhaven, Tim still being in school, and both of their budding vigilante careers, they didn’t have much time to visit. Occasionally, they’d stop by during patrol for a rest or some first aid. Mainly you kept in touch with phone calls and texts.

You never really saw Alfred anymore, unless it was when he opened the door for Tim after dropping him off at him from school or some outing. He does call occasionally, just to say hi and chat. It’s nice, not feeling completely cut off from your old life.

It was surprising how unchanged your relationship with Bruce was after you left. It probably shouldn’t have been - your marriage was one in name alone and had been for awhile. Still, realizing your conversations only revolved around if Dick or Tim needed anything made it clear just how true it was that divorced life with him wasn’t far off from your married one. He never did make an effort to really speak with you after things went to hell but then again neither did you.

When you finally signed the divorce papers, it felt like you could breathe for the first time in years. No more sticking around because you were afraid leaving would push him over the edge. But the hole in your chest still plagued you, and it most certainly would forever. The divorce wasn’t what was best. What would have been best would be Jason being alive and Batman not needing to put your kids in danger constantly. But Jason was and Batman did. So the divorce is better.

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Watching a movie with Han ‗ ❍

Pairing : Han Jisung x f reader

Summary : chapter five of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, suggestive but no actual smut, everyone yaps and is a nerd, homebody! Jisung is real, some swear words

Word count : 600 words

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Watching anything, not just a movie, but a tv show, an anime, a short, a music video, literally anything, is an experience.

Each one unique and requiring at least a whole five minutes of commentary.

He's the kind of guy who feels like his life changed completely after viewing a certain product. He will gen into it so much, from the possible lore or original material, the music, the character takes and analysis from twitter users. He's probably one of them

It's so funny actually because you can pretty much guess what mood he's in by the type of thing he recommends watching. A sad movie? He's in his feels and probably lowkey needs a good cry. A fun anime? He wants to have fun and not pay too much attention, probably just relax.

A horror movie? He either wants to try and scare you and then act like the knight in shining armor (he's actually shitting himself too, trust)

"Shit! They just did a jumpscare, I didn't expect one two seconds later!" a couple of popcorns jumping out of the bowl.

"Oh no did that ugly nun scare my princess?" he wraps your shoulders with his arm, voice comically condescending, "Does she want a kiss to make it better?"

"Don't even try it, Sung. I saw you jump too, loser"

A thriller or dramatic movie? Probably feels the need to overthink something other than his life, and most likely have a nice, interesting conversation.

He's also quite strict with seeing new episodes from a series he hasn't seen before. He doesn't like to watch stuff in your presence unless you are also watching them. He much prefers your company anyway, feels also a bit disrespectful and in general he probably wants to focus on the plot.

He's usually pretty silent and concentrated but if it's a rewatch or he's purposefully showing you something he just yaps. So much. He NEEDS you to feel things as he felt them, you know?

"Baby, there! Did you see that shot? It's so fucking genius actually, will be so important for the plot later on"

"Don't spoil!" you exclaim, annoyed.

"Yah, I didn't spoil, I just commented on how good the shot was!" he defended, as you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Shush."

But it's actually stronger than him, I fear.

"The composer using that bit of music during that scene..I know what they're doing"

"How can you hate someone so much but also enjoy their presence at the same time? Such good acting"

But don't get me wrong! He loves to hear you yap just as much. He's actually so in awe, looking at you with those big round eyes and an amused smile.

"Am I talking too much? Ah, sorry baby" you chuckle embarrassed as you catch yourself basically covering the audio of the movie.

He shakes his head with a smile, still with those adoring eyes. Like you could do no wrong, ever.

"No, my baby. You could be literally reading a cooking book, I don't care. You look too pretty."

But when you've both seen the movie/series in question and it's NOT a sad one...it's over. You both know damn well it's just part of the game foreplay at that point.

"Honey, how about we just chill and rewatch this? It was fun last time"

And just like last time, this time was indeed fun, since the movie was left on his own to the end credits as you were blowing each other's backs out.

It's a given at that point, I don't make the rules

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[multifandom-pleasures]

scourge x reader

A/N: trying to convince people into the scourge hype as my second fave behind shadow - he may only be in the comics, but god do I love his character 🙏

you had hated him. he was arrogant, violent, power-hungry, and never took no for an answer. he paraded himself around the city like he was the self-proclaimed king he was; crown atop his head and red lenses covering his eyes, a sharp-toothed smile adorning his face. chaos forbid someone look at him the wrong way, because with a snap of his fingers they would be taken care of, left battered and bruised where they last stood.

and not to mention the women. monogamy was a word of fairy tail to him, a new chick hanging off his arm, scourge showing them off like some tacky piece of jewelry. sometimes, he would even have two of them - and even on the same day. he’d gotten his fair share of backhands across the face, a smug smile on his face like he hadn’t done a thing wrong. he was king after all, he could have as many women as he’d like; couldn’t he?


but you weren’t prone to his charms, either. as much as you had despised him, cursed his being with every bit of your soul, he had found a way to weasel himself into your home. at first, it was for the usual hookups; he’d stumble to your door drunk and desperate, and you indulged in it. you got a good fuck out of it, and you would wake to him gone in the morning. it was a fair give and take. but then, after a couple of months, he’d begun to stick around. you would wake to his green spiked in your face, and you would shove him off your bed with a snark at him to get out already. he’d snag a a snack from your pantry and waltz his way out.

and then he stayed later. you gave up on kicking him out and let him lay in bed, getting a pot of coffee going. he’d shuffle his way into the kitchen at the smell of roasted coffee beans, rubbing at his eyes and mumbling something about staying in bed longer with him. you just shoved a mug of coffee into his hands, not caring if the scorching liquid splashed on him; and sent him to sit down. he would oblige, and you would give a simple breakfast of toast and eggs. he’d scarf it down, along with his piping hot coffee, and would leave with a wink and half-assed thanks for breakfast.

you don’t know when those days blended in with you waking up with him snuggled against the crook of your neck, his chest against your back and his arms locked around your waist. he didn’t even come by just for sex anymore; some days, sure, but the rest he would just make his way into your home; which you’d given him the key to so he would stop waking you at midnight; and he would join you in bed where you already slept. and you didn’t even mind. you never questioned him either, afraid that if you dared mention his new, odd schedule that he would pull back and avoid you altogether. you didn’t want that; not when you finally started to enjoy his company.

you woke one morning with scourge cradling you from behind. you didn’t make any movements yet, enjoying the sensation of his chest rising and falling against you as he slept, his breath fanning at the back of your neck. your hand slipped down to rest against scourge’s as it rested on your stomach, stroking your thumb against the back of it; his fur soft beneath the pad of your finger. he always took his gloves off before getting into bed with you.

you turned carefully in his grasp to look up at scourge’s sleeping form. the only time he ever looked peaceful was when he slept. his usual leering smirk nonexistent and instead parted in soft breaths, his furrowed brows relaxed and making him actually look youthful. he had eye bags, not so heavy as when you first met him, you noticed. and then ears, lightly twitching in his sleep, adorned with golden studs; one of his ears missing the tip. torn off in some fight years ago, you would assume.

you trailed down his form to his fuzzy pink chest, three faded yet still prominent scars torn across. he was always happy to brag about his scars, boast about his won battles and fights; except those three. when you questioned him he avoided it, waving you off that they were unimportant. that it was the same as any of his other stories. you didn’t push further.

“ like what yer seein’ dollface? “ you jerked up as he spoke, an unamused expression forming across your face as that smirk made its way across his lips, “ take a picture, yeah? lasts longer. “

“ shut up. “ you mumbled, shifting to sit up. his hand grasped onto your waist and tugged you back into him, which you didn’t fight against. you huffed as you fell back into the pillows and looked up at him as he instead moved to hover over you.

“ already so feisty so early in the mornin’? ain’t even said hi yet. “

“ hi. “ you replied boredly, and he flashed fangs as he grinned.

“ hey, dollface. “ he dipped down and pressed a kiss to your lips, which you eagerly leaned into. he’d learned to kiss you softer when once he’d gotten too excited and cut your lip open - he’d made it up to you with more kisses, tongue lapping at the blood and gentle murmurs of not meaning to be so rough.

you pulled back before he could get any thoughts of taking it further, pressing a hand against his chest and nudging him back. you looked up at him, expecting a more heated expression on his face - but you were surprised to see him simply admiring you. his eyes darted across your face, and then down your form, taking you in. it flustered you. you huffed and pressed your hand over his eyes, blocking his vision.

“ get up - I need coffee. “

“ hey, cmon, stay in bed this once? y’always get up too early. “ scourge complained, his arms caging you on the bed as he pouted. you snickered and uncovered his eyes.

“ if I stay in this bed any longer, I’m never getting up. “

“ ‘s kinda the point. “

“ you know what kind of person asks someone else to stay in bed like this? “

“ what. “

“ boyfriends. boyfriends ask their lovers to stay in bed to kiss and fuck and cuddle. “ you replied with a scoff, hoping that would be enough to startle him off you. but he didn’t budge.

“ boyfriend? “ he echoed, craning his head as he stared you down, not looking at all discouraged by your words like you’d hoped, “ ‘s that what ya see me as? “ you sputtered, feeling your face burn with a flush.

“ n-no! I’m just saying - hookups don’t ask for this kinda stuff, “ you averted your gaze, trying to keep from giving any kind of hint of your attraction to him. no way he would simply choose you. he loved his lifestyle.

when the silence lingered for a bit too long, you finally turned to face him, and immediately you were met with a kiss. you let out a small sound, startled by the gesture, but just as before you melted into it. your hands looped around his shoulders and you relished the gesture. scourge’s hand slid up to rest on your waist, his other hand still keeping him steadily over you, and as he pulled himself back you found yourself chasing after him. he smirked at your desperation.

“ all y’had to do was say so, y’know. “ he replied nonchalantly, “ it’s been - what - a year almost? y’think I keep my hookups round that long just cause they’re a good fuck? ‘s what my phone’s for, I don’t stick around. “ he dipped down to kiss your jaw, sighing, “ ‘m not gonna be great, I’ll tell ya that now. “

“ I know. “ you whispered, grasping onto his quills as he moved down to your neck.

“ might slip up and hurt ya. “

“ I know. “

“ why d’you want me anyways. y’know what kinda person i am - even i know ‘m shitty. “

“ I don’t know. “ you lifted his face to look down at him properly, “ I just.. know I like you. you’re different here than how you are out there. you don’t.. act. “ he hummed softly, pressing a few kisses against the palm of your hand, only serving to fluster your further.

“ y’sure you want me dollface? “ you nodded your head, and he gave you a toothy smile - softer than the usual ones, his eyes crinkling as he leaned in closer, “ then you’ve got me. just have some patience, alright? “

you nodded again, and captured his lips in another kiss. this time he was the one who was eager to reciprocate, tugging the blankets over the two of you once more. you both got what you had wanted in the end - you had gotten scourge to be solely yours, and scourge got you to stay in bed with him for the day.

[bearw-me]

Sense it's may the 4th can I request the hazbin crew reacting to teen reader celebrating star wars and explaining to them what star wars is sense I think most of them wouldn't know about it.

yess i can! and sorry if these don't live up to expectations! i've watched the movies but im not totally involved in the fandom!

𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 — 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!

𐐒 ft : gender neutral! teen! reader, charlie morningstar, vaggie, alastor, nifty, angel dust, sir pentious, husk 𐐒 cw : fluff 𐐒 summary : you are showing the hazbin crew what star wars is no matter the cost + and their reactions 𐐒 note : ITS STILL may the 4th where i am! this counts!

Charlie Morningstar! Loves your enthusiasm so much she decides to watch the movies with you until she falls asleep. Makes popcorn for the two of you! I think she'd be pretty clueless though, as the princess of hell who's never been exposed to that kind of pop culture.

"Oh my goshh! Star wars!"

. . .

"What is that?"

She's got a good attitude about learning through you

Vaggie! Sits with you and Charlie, and although she has no idea what you are talking about (her being an angel and all and having no contact with Earth), everything you say to her just kind of floats through one ear and out the other.

GETS HEATED and physically mad when the storm troopers miss. every. shot. they. take.

likes she's cursing in spanish type of mad

likes bloopers (like when that one storm trooper hits his head on the door)

Alastor! Hates the television, so you'll have to explain everything to him through other means, even if that means him listening to you tell him the whole thing.

honestly, i think he'd be the most uninterested in the plot if it couldn't be explained well.

i think he'd actually like looking at the comics if you showed them to him "Well look at this fellow! Aren't they all charmingly misshapen!" when you show him aliens like Jabba, or Jar Jar.

likes the 'epic saga; between armadas and armies, jedi and sith. . . like he's smiling with his eyes narrowed and nodding as you point out everything that's happening.

Nifty! Retains NOTHING you are saying, she is just kind of staring through your soul. So when you put the movies on in the lobby she actually moves and watches while she dusts.

subconsciously retains the information and names some of her roaches after the characters.

she stops cleaning to just sit front and center in front of the tv.

LOVES the violence and fight scenes, especially when people get cut by a light saber.

asks you for pictures of the characters that she keeps crumbled into her apron (she adores darth vader)

always plops down onto a pillow in front of the tv whenever boba fett + anakin skywalker are on screen

WOULD LOVE to kill a storm trooper herself

Angel Dust! Like Charlie, I think Angel would be the best person to hear you out about star wars. I think he'd be a major geek with you, even acting out a few scenes and letting you win. He see's you like his sibling, so he enjoys your company. Why wouldn't he love doing something that you love?

loves the clothing in the movies, especially the queen of naboo's makeup. "And the hairr!"

loves the romances and sci-fi fantasy part of it

expect him to have ideas

Sir Pentious! I think out of all the people in the hotel he'd LOVE star wars. From watching the movies with you in the hotel's lobby to asking you a TON of questions! Like everything you know about star wars, he has to know too!

"I like thiss 'Sstar Warss'"

has to know everything and has his own fan theories

probably cried while he watched padme + anakin's love story. right up to the end

(he tries hard to identify with anakin)

he'll probably celebrate may 4th right along with you, t-shirt, movie cup, all his wrecked up merch in his hands just to watch the movies with you

tries to recreate all the gadgets and light saber's he see's without success. . . YET

Husk! Doesn't get it. He listens to you sure, while your sat at his bar counter and explaining everything to him about the plot and the characters. He asks a ton of questions, but it is sort of like explaining it to your dad.

He'll lean over the bar and ask you about plot holes, and when you answer back excitedly he kind of sighs to himself "Why is he getting so worked up on the plot anyway?"

like why is he forming an opinion now?

likes when you talk about it though, your enthusiasm is a little contagious

is 'subtly' watching the movies from behind you, turning away to wash some glasses when you stare over at him

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

BRO IM OBSESSEDDDDDDD WITH THE ABNER SMUT U DID OH MY GOD IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR A PART TWO

maybe reader gets to break him out by any chance 👀👀👀👀

Broken Collars, Lovingly Tethered - Abner Krill/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, masturbation, a bit of violence, amateur surgery (you'll see, it's not bad), grinding, fingering, sex, and a ton of kisses.

Wordcount: 5965

Summary: Your visits weren't as free as before, but since when did that ever bother you? Maybe all you really needed was an opportunity, and, based on the whispers in the club where you worked, one was approaching very fast.

Notes: I've been wanting to write this the second I posted the first one and then got this ask hehe

You weren’t surprised when you returned a week later and found your next visit to be a little more crowded than the last one, your chair stuck opposite his as two guards took up the sides and made sure there were no more… inappropriate moments. Their presence made Abner nervous, his focus on them more than you as they sat back and didn’t pay attention but also refused to leave, his hands cuffed to the table to make sure there’d be no temptation. You, however, were free to move around, and you reached forward to hold his hands as your foot stuck out and urged him to do the same for an extra bit of contact.

‘Whoa, we’ve seen where that leads,’ the guard to your right warned when he noticed your new position, and you linked your fingers with Abner’s as a show that you were just as chained as he was.

‘No funny stuff this time, promise,’ you swore as the one to your left also looked up, Abner faltering even more now that they were both staring, ‘I just wanna talk to him, you know I’m harmless.’

‘I know you’re horny,’ Righty sneered, Lefty snickering on your other side. ‘You can get plenty better company than this guy anywhere else, you do know who he is, right? You’re just deranged and desperate and not actually dumb with a death wish?’

‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t talk about Abner when he’s right here,’ you just barely refrained from snapping, your hands holding his even tighter when he tried to pull away in humiliation. ‘And no, I’m none of those, I just really like him.’ The guards scoffed almost comically on time with each other as Abner stilled, and you looked him in the eye as you leaned forward until you were stopped by the hand on your shoulder. ‘I like you,’ you repeated to him, and he sat up a little more confidently when you were forced back into your chair.

‘Okay, we get it, you can keep buying this room every week until you end up broke but you can’t buy a bed in this place, so get on with your talking already before the big guy upstairs decides this isn’t worth it anymore.’ Righty went back to his phone as he talked, and you pursed your lips as you kept your leg pressed to Abner’s, his hands now as far as the chains would allow, and when you started talking about how your week had been it was like you were alone again as the other two disappeared into the background.

You kept your visits to the weekend when you were able to get done work a little earlier, the money ramping up as you filled your weekdays with as many hours as you possibly could in order to continue paying for these visits. It was expensive though, you hated to admit it but $300 every week was fine when you had savings, but you saw the bottom line when you went to pay the bills, this wasn't doable to keep it up, not on your salary. You bit your lip as you checked your bank online, went over how much it’d take out of you to pay to see him instead of settling for the calls again, but even as you did the math in your head you knew you couldn’t bear to sit across from him with that glass in the way again, not after last week.

You shut the lid of your laptop and almost stomped the few feet into bed, your body flopping onto the mattress as you tried to shove the frustration away. You knew by now everything you could about him, there was no point in counting down the days on your calendar until he’d be set free, not with his record and what he’d done even after his nearly secret mission on Corto Maltese shaving off ten years. He’d still be well into his hundreds by the time the sentence was up, and by then you’d both be gone, no, you needed to do something about this rampant unfairness now that you had found him. 

You huffed and let your hands rest on your stomach, picturing him walking away from you again the day before, how he had looked so unhappy that he hadn’t even gotten a chance to hug you after your admission of feelings when he was unchained from the table. He’d been rushed out fast, no time for them to risk anything the moment you also stood, Righty taking Abner while Lefty practically had to hold you back from a goodbye kiss. You felt frustrated by it all over again, your surge of adrenaline as he’d been shoved past you making your chest heave; you needed him again, you couldn’t remember what his mouth tasted like already after those brief moments, heat traveling down you as your fingers teased the waistband of your pajama shorts.

He’d been so close and warm, if you closed your eyes you could still see him, feel him panting under your hands as his own wandered over you so he could commit you to memory as well, hear the way his breath hitched when you’d grabbed him. ‘Shit,’ you muttered as you reached into your pants, palming yourself over your underwear as you felt the desire take hold again; you hadn’t lasted long after you’d gotten home, barely making it to the bed before you were panting into your pillow and fisting your sheets, your hand moving so good between your legs, the same hand that had made him come not even a half hour before.

You needed him, you couldn’t keep paying but you needed to be near him again, and as you slid your hand into your underwear and let out a sigh you knew that you were ready to do anything to be able to make that happen.

You still saw him next Saturday as planned, but before you sat you made sure to walk to his side of the table. You had the same guards with you, they were probably the poor saps stuck with this job, but they still took it seriously as they stood and got out their batons, ready to beat you back if you dared break the rules again. ‘I just want a hug,’ you said carefully, and when they didn’t sit you tossed more money onto the table. ‘You were right, I can’t keep spending this much, so if I have to cut back to only one of these a month I at least want a hug from my boyfriend.’

‘Boyfriend?’ Abner quickly looked up, his cheeks so pink as he stared in disbelief, and you almost emptied your wallet onto the table next as the urge to kiss him nearly overtook you.

‘Yeah, that is, if you wanna be?’ you asked, having obviously assumed you were some kind of dating after you shoved your hand down his pants. ‘Do… do you wanna go out with me, Abner?’

He looked ready to nod but the joy died down as he looked around, his hands still latched to the table when he couldn’t pull you into that hug as a reply. ‘Are you sure? We can’t really go out here,’ he murmured like he expected you to not have thought of that, like you’d take it back just like everything else you never did, and you gave both guards a look before crouching down and wrapping your arms around him.

‘Maybe for the right price we can walk around the yard someday if you wanna literally go out,’ you suggested, but the resulting snicker around the table told you you’d have less luck with that one. ‘But even if I’m stuck talking to you through a phone until I can see you in here again, I still wanna date you.’

He looked like he wanted to answer you, his mouth opening and closing before he leaned forward and caught you off guard, his lips crashing into yours and instantly making you end the hug to grab him by the head to hold him in place since he couldn’t do the same. The guards were on you so unfairly fast, your heart pounding as he tried to chase after your mouth until Righty and the cuffs forced him back. His lips were deviously pink from the kiss to match his cheeks, and you couldn’t hide the small laugh when you saw that he was already starting to get hard from just that as Righty pushed him back into his chair.

‘You promised,’ Lefty chastised you as he hauled you to the door, your fight or flight kicking in when you caught on that you weren’t sitting down.

‘I didn’t lie! He kissed me first, I just wanted the hug, I swear,’ you corrected him, your hand gripping both him and the doorway as Abner called out to you, and it must’ve been so pathetic that even he, a guard at Belle Reve, couldn’t drag you out of there after just a kiss. ‘I won’t do it again, next week will be by phone so I really wanna talk to him like this today, please.’

He sighed and let you go, Righty sitting down again but not before taking off his mask to push aside his blonde hair, his eyes already tired as they looked between such strange star-crossed lovers. ‘Don’t make us regret this,’ he muttered as he snatched up the hug money and split it between him and Lefty, who also sat down with a groan. You nodded and sat down as well finally, keeping your hands to yourself while your leg touched his out of sight, it good enough for the both of you as you watched him lick his lips, the memory of what he tasted like hopefully enough to keep you going for the next three weeks.

‘I do,’ he mumbled the moment you went to speak, your smile growing as he fiddled with the chain keeping him away from you, ‘I do wanna date you, by the way.’

You saved up all that you could as the next month went on, even more extra hours picked up over the weekend as soon as your meeting was over. It did indeed suck to have to talk to him through the phone again, the partition not even allowing your shoes to touch, his voice so faint and scratchy through the receiver, and when it was over and you had to watch him leave through the glass you knew you had to do this no matter what the consequences to yourself were.

Every week you tossed more money into the envelope on your dresser, dishing out all the big tips and keeping the smaller bills for yourself so you could grab a cheap meal, you could get groceries when this was over, a full cart would add up fast and you didn’t want that. Everything else that was deposited electronically was stored away, split between your debit account and your savings, your credit card thankfully empty thanks to never having the need to buy anything once your apartment was full of the necessities. It all added up by the time you got to toss the $300 to Righty when he met you by the prison doors, he knew your schedule and you were never late, so he’d started meeting you there to save some time. 

You lifted your shirt to your ribs to show you had nothing hidden as always, same with your ankles, your walk through the metal detectors giving the same answer as well, and Lefty looked up and gave you the smallest wave of recognition as you walked in and saw him and Abner already waiting. You nodded back and handed them both $50 more, Abner not kissing you this time as you hugged him tight until one of them coughed and signaled that that was long enough.

‘Keep waiting for me,’ you whispered in his ear, your voice so low that neither would hear with their masks on, ‘something is going to happen soon, so be patient, okay?’

He didn’t question you out loud as you stood and walked to your seat, and this time you got to hold his hands as you talked about everything and anything until your time was up again and you had to rush back to work.

The envelope was sealed tight, the glue licked and then the back taped for extra security, the paper bulging from everything stuffed inside as you tucked it into your pocket and snuck out into the night. It would be happening soon, your perceived naivety at the club paying off as you walked past the other civilians just trying to get home or get drunk. You were a ghost tonight, heading right for danger as you reached the line of shops across from the bank, the time on your phone telling you that it was happening any minute now, you were right on time.

It sure did pay to be just out of sight when the local bad guys were openly discussing their plans at your place of work.

‘Three, two, one…’

The front of the bank exploded into sight and sound, with Superman no longer around and Batman stuck in Gotham they’d have loads of time to load up and head out, all the important people in the city robbed blind as you just stood there and remained in the shadows. They were loud, confident that they’d get away with this as their getaway van pulled into sight, and you checked your phone again as you mentally timed how long it would take to get from Belle Reve to there. Again your timing was perfect as a random team of villains showed up along with a bunch of officers in an armoured truck, the money considered a big enough deal to get Waller to drop out a fast team to protect it all thanks to the complaints of the locals you had to bet, and you stood up straight when you saw Abner join the others with the specific instructions to please not melt the money.

Guns fired and powers lit up the area as he stayed behind, aiming for those trying to escape, his job to bring the bags to the safety of the truck you noticed as the others did all the dirty work, what had to be a grenade going off and making you duck as you snuck along the shops to get closer to him. He was good at his job, not at hand to hand by any means but as soon as he threatened to turn on his gauntlets they folded, their guns forgotten now that they knew what was inside of him, the thought of him letting it all out if he died like a bomb obviously on their minds. You felt proud of him as you watched him bring two more bags back to the truck, and when he glanced your way you flashed your phone to get his attention.

He paused, unsure if you were friend or foe, and you stepped into the moonlight just enough to show yourself before beckoning him to come over, which he gladly did as everyone else remained preoccupied. ‘I-I got him!’ he shouted before running like he had spotted another runaway, no one paying him any mind as another grenade went off and nearly toppled over the van, and when he met you in the alley he pressed you into the wall and kissed you like he hadn’t just seen you the other night. You kissed him right back, unlatching his mask and letting his goggles hang around his collarless neck as you held him so close against you it was hard to tell where he ended and you began. ‘I waited,’ he panted against your mouth, and you kissed him again and resisted the urge to take off more than just his mask.

‘I know,’ was all you could say before you were tugging him further into the darkness and back towards your apartment, ‘we gotta go, they’re bound to notice you’re gone soon.’

‘Wait, what’re we-’

‘Freeze.’ You turned to see Righty standing in the alley opening, his gun drawn as he pointed it at the two of you, your arm in front of Abner as he instantly reached for his gauntlet to turn it on. ‘You know I can’t let you go any further, you can’t pay me to turn a blind eye this time.’

‘Wait, please, let me-’ you started, but when you reached for the envelope he fired just to your left, the bullet hitting the wall and making you jump at the warning. ‘It’s for you, it’s not a weapon,’ you tried again, and he waited until you pulled out the money and showed him both sides, nothing else in your hand as Abner tensed behind you. ‘There’s almost $5000 in here, just let me take him home for the night, you can catch him again in the morning,’ you offered, and he looked ready to consider it before the fight made him look back at the commotion still going on behind him. 

This deal was dangerous, this wasn't just you paying for a handjob and not enough kisses, this was him trusting you to keep your word for not nearly enough money, but it was all you had on hand, and he was right behind you, holding your jacket as he waited for your word to tell him to be the villain you all knew he could be. You didn’t want that though, if you could get out of there with this now familiar face still intact then you would, and you knew he was thinking the same as he looked at the money again. A third grenade went off, a car successfully flipping this time and lighting all three of you up in the fiery glow, and he frowned conflictingly before aiming the gun at the ground and motioning for you to throw the money over.

You did just so, tossing it over the gap for him to catch, and he put his gun away for just a second to cut open the top and peer inside. You weren’t lying, you never lied when it came to Abner and he knew it, and he shoved the money under his bulletproof vest before aiming at you again. ‘You’ll send him back for us to catch tomorrow morning?’ he repeated, and even though you’d offered it you couldn’t bring yourself to confirm it as Abner held you just a little tighter.

‘I…’ you attempted to say, and Righty swore to himself as he stared down his own problem. ‘Get outta town, don’t be here when they can’t find him,’ you finally managed to say, his eyes still on the both of you as another cop yelled for him, Lefty’s voice calling over the street to see if he was still alive, it was now or never. 

‘You’re fuckin’ crazy,’ he sighed angrily at you, and even though he had all the time in the world to stop you, he surprised you by aiming the gun at his own shoulder and firing. He bit back a yell as a spray of blood filled the air, and he waved for you to just go as he stumbled back into the light and said was instantly surrounded by the others. ‘Krill chased one of them down the other street and I followed, bastard shot me and bailed, no idea what happened to Krill,’ you heard him lie before he became too far away, your hand holding Abner’s as you weaved through the streets until you were heading for home.

‘There’s- there’s a bomb,’ he panted as you ran, your legs not slowing as you led the way, ‘in my neck, if it gets back to Waller that I’m gone-’

‘They’ll look for the money first, they think you need your cage, remember?’ You prayed it’d turn out like that, his outfit so bright in the darkness as you finally reached your place; you’d left your window open ahead of time just for this, the fire escape bringing you both up and in where it was safe, but you didn’t waste a second as you then sat him down and raced to the bathroom. You busted open one of your razors in order to get the blade, and you had just enough time to apologize before he understood and leaned forward. 

‘I heal fast, a side effect of the virus,’ he encouraged you when you hesitated, and you just grit your teeth and made the incision. He guided you as you worked, the bomb so small you had to grab your tweezers to carefully pull it out, and when it was out you placed it on the edge of your fire escape and watched as he opened just a slot on his gauntlets and detonated it with one of his dots. To them it’d look like he’d been killed by the runaway criminal, they wouldn’t look for him right away now, he was safe, he was free.

You wrapped the blade in an old cloth and tossed it out as Abner turned to face you, a few dots still flying free outside as they looked for a target, blood staining the back of his costume, his face smudged with dirt and bruised from the fight, but still his smile was so big as he watched you. There was a moment of catching up between you as you just stared at each other, but when he then took off his gauntlets and placed them on your table you hurriedly wiped your hands off on your jeans before you were meeting in the middle and kissing like tomorrow would never come.

Your attempts to clean your hands were quickly undone as you grabbed him by the back of the neck and made him hiss, the area still tender even though the skin had indeed already healing back up, your fingers painted red as he pressed you into the side of your couch. You were quick to slide over the arm and fall back, his knees locking and making him fall forward with you, and he apologized for his weight as you just laughed and scooted back enough for him to crawl forward and straddle you. 

‘I’ve wanted this for so long,’ you told him as the cushions sank underneath you, your hands trailing red over coloured dots when you had no idea where to start to get this damn costume off of him. ‘I can’t believe you’re finally here…’

‘Me either,’ he sighed as he did the work for you, his pants straining even more than usual with how tight everything was in all the right places. He practically threw the jacket across the room, a long-sleeved shirt regrettably underneath it, but you could handle that as you pushed it up and over his head. ‘You’re-’

‘-Beautiful,’ you accidentally finished for him, and he was, he really was even as he looked down and realized how much of him was showing; just because he could heal fast didn’t mean that the virus could remove the scars, and there were so many from all his years at not only Belle Reve but S.T.A.R. Labs as well you’d come to learn, some of them even circular from what had to be his own powers. He turned away from you and tried to cover himself, clearly more ashamed than turned on, but you just gently pulled his hands away and placed them back over your waist and your cheek, his eyes opening hopefully as you rolled your hips under him. ‘Do you want this?’ you asked again, and he just nodded before leaning down to kiss you again. ‘Then who’s gunna stop us this time?’

He groaned into your ear at your eagerness, and you kissed his bare neck before making him get up; you stood on shaky legs and led him to your bedroom next, a quick stop to the ensuite bathroom to clean up and strip more delaying your final destination only a little, but you hadn’t exactly expected to do sudden surgery before you could get him in there. It felt all the more intimate after that, and this time when you crawled onto the bed he was the one underneath you as he let you take charge again. You wanted him to tell you what he wanted, two months of needing him making you ready to just tell him that he didn’t need to hold back anymore, but once you felt him under you, felt the way he already started to move his hips and stare up at you you knew that this was what he wanted.

He was free, he was in a comfy bed with you on top of him in a state of undress, no one was going to barge in before he could make you feel good this time, he was exactly where he wanted to be and the only thing holding him back was the fact that you didn’t know where to start.

You didn’t let him wait any longer, guiding his hands to work on your belt as you stripped off your shirt and tossed it aside, he was down to just his boxers now, and you licked your lips and grinded against him in order to encourage him to start moving. His voice was still soft as he did just that, using you as pressure between you sliding your pants as well as underwear off, his mouth falling open as you bared yourself to him. He looked like he could hardly believe it, that you wanted him so much you’d go this far, and you just laughed and kissed him as you took his hand and got him to touch you.

‘Fuck, that’s good,’ you told him as he gasped into your neck, he didn’t know what to do but he knew what he wanted as he conveyed it all through his actions, and when his motions evened out and he became more confident you ended up putty in his hand as your chest pressed into his. ‘Abner… I still want more, don’t end it so soon,’ you warned him as your climax started to build, but he just doubled down as he started kissing your neck, being so close to you just as addicting to him as it was for you.

‘Paying you back… from before…’ he mumbled into your skin, his hand moving faster as he gripped you by the ass and pulled you more into his reach.

‘But- I’m gunna-’

‘Then do it.’ He bit down hard and made you gasp, your eyes rolling back as you came onto his hand just as he’d done to you, every muscle tensing as he didn’t stop until you were oversensitive and keening desperately. Finally he stopped, his hand moving to his very hard cock as he pulled himself out, the mess on his hand only lubing him up as he bucked up between your thighs. ‘I want you, back when you touched me in that room, I knew I wanted you to be my first,’ he said before he could stop himself, his body stilling a little as you caught your breath. ‘That’s… pathetic, isn’t it? Knowing that I’m… The others always said so.’

‘Abner, I don’t care who you have and haven’t fucked, as long as I get to be with you tonight,’ you admitted to him, but when he still didn’t regain that bit of confidence you pressed a kiss to his chest and sat up again. ‘Look, you’ve been the only one on my mind since you saved the city two months ago, I spent literally thousands of dollars just to be able to talk to you in person, I risked my life tonight just on the chance I’d be able to get you here, do you honestly think I care whether you’re a virgin or not?’ 

His eyes met yours, he was a little more convinced, and you reached between your legs to take him in hand again, his head falling back into your pillows with such a delectable noise that it made your desire come back even faster. 

‘But if I were to be completely honest, knowing that I get to be the first one to feel you inside…’ You rubbed his length against yourself, letting exactly how it felt show on your face as he looked up at you like you were the hottest thing he’d ever seen. ‘I… I can’t think of anything I want more.’

He pulled you back down to kiss you again, his tongue finding yours fast as he took initiative and jutted up against you, helped you want it enough that you couldn’t hold back, and when he finally pressed inside you the both of you just froze and breathed each others air as you slid down his length. You felt so full around him, his head thrown back again as your body became all he knew, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to last long again as you started to move. He tried to get you to stop, it was too much and he was worried about ruining this but you wouldn’t let him, controlling your pace as you peppered his neck with kisses and hickeys; there were places where the collar had dug in and scarred him, and you touched each one before kissing them, marking him as your own as your hips moved torturously up and down, his breathing so broken and without control as he panted.

He whispered the same pleas as before, begs for more getting you to move a little faster as you kissed the other side of his neck, his nails leaving behind faint scratches all over your back and thighs when he couldn’t stop himself from bucking. He was restraining himself so hard that it had to be making him cramp up, and you encouraged him again as you finished marking him and sat up. ‘Don’t make me do all the work,’ you teased as you rode him, Abner just blinking before grabbing you by the hips and thrusting hard. 

Your back arched and you braced yourself on his chest, his eyes shining when he saw that he was making you feel good too, like he’d forgotten that crucial part of having sex. He wanted to see it more, his own pleasure delayed as he bucked up again and again, he felt so good but knowing that he was able to do this to you was taking him over, and you eagerly let him make the switch from you riding him to him fucking you.

You praised him for it, he was making you feel so good, better than anyone else, you were his now, you’d been his ever since you’d shaken his hand that day; every word only made him move faster, harder, his inexperience definitely not felt as you felt your second orgasm build quicker than expected. He really was making you fall apart, your desire for him just as strong as his for you it just so happened to turn out, and when you started to get close you felt a little sentimental as you kissed him a little softer. He opened his eyes, staring up at you as you were fucked, his body not slowing even as you whispered that you loved him.

That was all it took, Abner holding you tight as he came inside, the stuttering of his hips urging you to ride it out until you were coming too, the room filled with his noises now that he didn’t have to stay quiet. You didn’t give a fuck about your neighbours, they could bang on the walls or ceiling or floor all they wanted as you kissed the noises out of him, loving the sound of his voice just for you. He panted your name over and over as he finally fell still, like he couldn’t remember any other word other than that, and you just smiled and laid on him until you noticed the shine on his cheek; he was crying, and you got up as concern took over your afterglow.

‘Are you okay?’ you asked as you gave him room to breathe, and he just looked up at you and pulled you back down for another kiss instead of answering.

‘I love you so much,’ he replied as another tear fell, ‘I didn’t think I knew how, not after everything she did to me, not anymore.’

You got off of him then, ignoring the emptiness you felt when you separated as you curled up next to him. ‘Do you want to talk about it? We have all the time in the world now,’ you offered, but he just shook his head, your eyes widening as he then faced you and got you to lie on your back so he could rest his head on your chest. 

‘No, I just want to stay with you until I need to release the dots, they’ll be appearing by the morning, I didn’t get to use any in the mission,’ he murmured against you, your hand brushing his hair out of his eyes before you held him close, nothing able to take him away from you now.

‘That’s fine, we might have to leave if Ri- that guard ends up telling them I got you, they’ll be suspicious by Saturday if I don’t show up at the very least,’ you thought aloud, Abner only curling around you tighter at the thought of having to leave you again.

‘Where will we go? I don’t want you to lose your home,’ he said miserably, but you just kissed the top of his head and held his hand.

‘This is just an apartment, I’ll find another one in some other city, I hear Metropolis is pretty easy to sneak around without Superman, or there’s Gotham?’ He didn’t seem to like either, the thought of some other hero finding him and bringing him back making him nervous. ‘Of course, I also hear Canada is pretty cool this time of year.’

He looked up at you, like he still couldn’t believe you’d go so far just for him, and you trailed kisses over his forehead and nose until he couldn’t take the barrage and had to stop you with his mouth. ‘You really want this with me?’ he confirmed when he was safe again, your fingers linking with his your answer. ‘But the dots, and Waller, and-’

‘Abner, you told me that you skipped out on your freedom a year ago because you needed the safety of the collar,’ you reminded him seriously, ‘I’m not letting you do it again, not now that you’re with me; you followed me tonight, you didn’t have to but you did, you can’t tell me you don’t want this too.’ The words wouldn’t come out again, and your fingers brushed over the already healed scar on the back of his neck. ‘We’ll handle everything as it comes, whether it’s your dots or Waller catching on or whatever, but until then, please let yourself want this with me, okay?’

He nodded then, all traces of fear leaving him just for the moment, which was all you needed as he rested on top of you.

‘I love you Abner, and I won’t let anyone take you away again,’ you promised him, but he was already falling asleep as the sirens sounded outside, the cars driving by as they searched for him, a bright dot already forming just above his wrist.

[spiderlandry]

wind — lo'ak sully

Description: You make a matching ionar (rider’s mask) for Lo’ak after he fails the first time trying to tame an ikran. you give it to him after his (successful) second try, but what does it mean?

Pairing: Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x GN!Reader (Na’vi)

Warnings/Tags: mentions of mating/finding a mate(?), use of y/n, actually requited love, reader is a softie, proofread once and barely edited, events probably not canonically correct because i’ve never read the comics

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: if anyone has any avatar thoughts or hc/drabble requests feel free to send them in my inbox !! i’m honestly willing to write for most of the characters, so just ask 😇 (any human!jake thoughts are especially welcome)

Everything has fallen away and nothing else matters when Lo’ak is in the Tsahìk’s healing hut, being bandaged by his grandmother after falling off a cliff on his first try taming an ikran.

The disappointment from his father rolls off in waves, and in turn, the shame of it suffocating.

Mo’at interrupts his train of thinking.

“Mawey,” She says in a gentle voice, but its read as a warning nonetheless. “I can feel you burning a hole into the ground.”

“Sorry.”

The curt response is not lost on her, but she doesn’t mention it.

Enter Kiri, the third person who has come to see him since the incident. Her face is etched with worry, eyebrows scrunched but it seems like she’s trying to hide it. She sits cross-legged across from her brother.

“Father was just worried about you.”

That gets a dry laugh out of him, wincing when the exertion stings.

“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” He replies.

Never-mind that. The moment he hit the ground, he knew he would be the other end of their father’s worry. That’s not what he hates. It’s that he feels the disappointment.

But it’s as if Kiri reads his mind.

“He’s not disappointed, either. He doesn’t hold it against you.”

At his quiet, Kiri leans against the wall, keeping him company while their grandmother rubs paste on his shoulder.

-

It is his third say of ordered rest that he finally notices your absence. Amidst of the chaos and his family practically doting on him with worry, he realizes the empty hole in his heart is in the shape of you.

You, who was there to see him fall. You, who was one of the best hunters in the clan and a great flyer. And you, who he has been in love with since he could remember.

Another wave of shame and embarrassment hits him. It lingers.

If you’d seen his failure, surely that destroyed all his chances with you. Hell, he barely had any after you’d called him ‘a great friend,’ a few weeks ago. But it’s different now: you have witnessed his worst moment, and would deem him unfit to be a mate.

His moping is apparently so noticeable that his own father has to talk to him. It happens before the hunting party leaves.

“Look,” His father—the Olo’eyktan for Eywa’s sake—makes the party wait. “I’m sorry about yelling at you.”

“Yeah, I know. We’re good.” Lo’ak’s lungs are burning. He needs to get away from this conversation, otherwise it will lead to Jake finding out about his affections for you.

“Hey,” His father taps his shoulder, and Lo’ak has to meet his eye. “What’s going on?”

Lo’ak knows that Jake is often misjudged as a father. He hears his friends talk about how being an Olo’eyktan makes him too busy to properly care for his kids. But what they don’t know is that every duty his father fulfills is done with his children in mind. Not too many people give him enough credit, not even Lo’ak.

He pays attention.

“Can we…not talk about this?” Lo’ak nods to the hunting party waiting for their leader. “We can talk about it when you get back.”

Jake gives in, but not without promise. “Later.”

They never end up talking about it, much to Jake’s dismay. Lo’ak avoids him too much. He prays to Eywa hoping his son will solve it soon.

-

When he sees you again, it had been about two weeks since the incident. He knows you’re close with Kiri, and every time his sister sneaks away he knows she’s with you, but he decided that if you didn’t want to be near him, then so be it. He didn’t anticipate the pain that came with that. The burning in his chest, something his father taught him about heartburn—yeah, that. Probably.

There’s a lot of people in the clan, which is why it surprises him to see you spending time with Ralu of all people.

You’re both far away, but he sees you flash a smile at the man and he begins to see red.

Ralu isn’t a bad person by any means. But he’s arrogant. And you told Lo’ak once that you hated arrogant people. Ralu was named after his great grandfather, one of the most notorious warriors among the people. Lo’ak figures that’s why the guy carries himself with an air of importance.

So when you laugh at his joke, Lo’ak starts to think that maybe you changed.

When did you change?

The burning is quelled for a moment, quickly replaced with an even worse emotion: a soul-crushing, haunting feeling called guilt.

Lo’ak is guilty of many things. He disobeys direct orders, he has the tendency to slip out of important celebrations, he can disappear for days when he needs time to think.

But he has never once felt guilty of loving you.

Until now.

It is not truly just guilt out of loving you, rather, it’s a product of his own cowardice and inability to even strike a conversation with the slightest hint of interest in becoming yours officially.

You don’t know that he is already yours—that you hold his heart in your delicate hands—maybe that is where he went wrong. Was it fair for him to have assumed you knew that? No, not really. But what could he do?

He stalks away, the sight of you and Ralu summoning bile in Lo’ak’s throat. He wants to feel the wind one only gets while flying and let the sting of the air wash his mind of the image.

He decides to take training more seriously this time around. Maybe he’s not too late.

He hopes he’s not too late.

-

Lo’ak loses himself in the fight. He lets his body carry him on hunts, he climbs the trees with calloused hands, he visits the mountains to study the patterns of the ikran coming and going.

He’s so determined to prove himself to you that he doesn’t pay mind to how you come and go through the home of the clan’s most talented craftsman.

Doesn’t notice when your eyes gravitate toward him as you come back from doing your tasks—he is too honed in on sharpening his blades and fixing his arrows.

You and Lo’ak hadn’t spoken in weeks.

But he wanted to make it worth it for when he finally invites you to watch him try and tame an ikran for the second time alongside his family.

It’s not long until Lo’ak finally approaches you with the proposition.

You receive the invitation with a gentle smile. He’s glad that Ralu is nowhere to be seen. (Bastard.)

-

It’s early morning, and you have not shown up. The thought of you not being here makes his stomach churn, not only out of shame but also regret. Maybe he really had lost you, but that is going off the assumption that he ever had you in the first place.

Most of his family stands behind him in support as he goes over the plan in his head, watching the ikran screech amongst themselves. Although, Tuk and Kiri are with grandmother—so it is just Neytiri, Jake, and Neteyam. He was so confident your name would be a part of that list.

He shakes off the thought, letting himself feel the vibrations. The rope in his hand burns from his tight grip. He launches himself into action, spotting the dark blue creature about to lunge at him. It’s beautiful. He hopes he doesn’t die.

The skin of the ikran brings him back to the feeling of falling, a flashback to the first time. As he wrangles it from the back, avoiding the claws reaching for him, he shakes his head roughly to rid himself of the image. The earth beneath him scratches at his leg when he falls off and tries to get back on, keeping its mouth tightly wrapped, bruises threatening to form on his hand.

Wind.

Edge. He is at the edge of the cliff.

The wind pushes against him, he pulls forward.

His vision is a tunnel, he grabs his kuru. He doesn’t see who arrives.

He successfully mounts the creature, making tsaheylu at the same time.

They both fall.

He hears the family erupt in cheers from afar when he saves himself from hitting ground, circling upward and letting out a loud cry. He does not hear your cheers amongst them, but it’s there regardless.

That is when he lands back on the cliff’s edge, meeting his parents’ proud smiles and Neteyam’s hard pat on the back.

You emerge from behind his family, and his jaw falls slack.

“Y/N,” He says, breathless. He resists the subconscious urge—the instinct—to run to you and wrap his arms around your figure, as he is reminded that the possibility of you and him have been null for a long time. “I thought you didn’t come.”

You two are inches from each other now.

“Are you kidding?” Your laugh melts him. “I just wanted to see if you’d fall off again.” The teasing isn’t something new, he knows you don’t mean it but even if you did, he couldn’t care less—every corner of his mind is now burned with the image of your smile.

He playfully shoves your shoulder, and you stop him from pulling away by holding his wrist.

You lower his arm. You bring an object out of the satchel you’ve been carrying around and places it on his outstretched hand.

It was an ionar. A rider’s mask.

And it looked familiar.

It is crafted beautifully and carefully—the light leather is cured perfectly, and in the middle, where it would rest on top of one’s nose-bridge, there’s a dark piece of river crystal sanded down to a point.

“I can’t take this,” He shakes his head. “This is yours.”

There’s something mischievous in your eyes, a glint he’d never seen. “Look closer.”

He grabs it and inspects, and his heart drops when he runs his finger over the piece, feeling the letters before seeing them. His name engraved into the side. Your mask had your name. This one has his.

“You…?” He meets your eyes, and you’re looking downward. In a surge of confidence, he puts a hand on your jaw to get you looking at him. “You made this for me?”

You nod. “It is a gift,” you respond. “I finished it this morning. I was not sure if it would be to your liking—”

“Don’t say that.” He cuts you off, and your eyes seem to be searching for something in his. He hopes to Eywa you find what it is you’re looking for. “This is perfect.”

You glance past him and he remembers that his family has been there the whole time. He turns and his eyes shoot daggers at his brother when he can see there must be something at the tip of Neteyam’s tongue. He knows that look, he’s about to get teased.

Luckily, before the brothers can exchange any words, you get Lo’ak’s attention again.

“Go fly with your family,” Your soft voice has him reeling. “I will meet you back home.”

-

He proudly dons the mask you’d given him, not taking it off when he starts looking for you after getting home. He wants—no, needs—everybody to know that he wears it like a badge of honor. He prays that people notice it matches your mask. In a way, it felt like you were staking claim on him.

Much to his chagrin, he sees you with him. Ralu. You’re nodding along to something he’s saying, and though it’s not a welcome sight, the adrenaline from flying fuels Lo’ak enough to walk over.

Your ears flick at the sound of nearby footsteps, and Lo’ak is relieved to see your smile grow wide when you catch a glimpse of him wearing the mask you made.

Lo’ak raises his brows at Ralu, and his stomach churns when Ralu does not respond to an obvious look of challenge.

You take notice of the fire in his eyes directed at your friend. In response, you place a hand on his forearm, and his gaze softens at you.

“Do you want to fly together?” You ask.

“Just us?”

“Yes,” you say it as though there is no other answer. “Who else?”

“It’s—” His eyes flit to Ralu, who seems to have stricken up a conversation with another clan member. Deciding it’s not worth mentioning, he replies, “Nevermind. Let’s go.”

-

“Where are you taking me?” He shouts over the wind, following you on his ikran while you fly fast ahead of him. The eclipse hides behind the floating mountains.

“Just wait and see!” You yell back, banking a hard left.

Landing on the cliff, you pet your banshee while Lo’ak’s lands on the ground with a hard thud. You laugh at him.

“I have to work on that,” He dismounts. “Where are we?” There is a wall of vines and moss standing tall behind you, and surface area of the soft grass is too little for both of your creatures to fit. They fly away, finding shelter on a nearby mountain.

“Follow me.” You feel the wall of vines, pushing it aside to make way into a dark passage.

The path is illuminated by bioluminescent flora growing through the cracks of the stone. He hears your footsteps behind him, and he soon runs into a wall, a small crevice with light shining through it, but too small for any Na’vi to fit.

You push past him and put your arms in the gap, putting the force of your body into getting it out of the way. He wants to help, but his eyes trace over your figure and he can only hope you don’t feel him checking you out without shame.

The gap is now wide enough to go through, so he follows you into it.

“Eywa,” He mutters under his breath as he takes in the scene. Though the cave should be dark, there is a clear pond that glows blue. There’s a tiny patch of grass surrounding it. It is not so extraordinary if one thinks about the rest of Pandora and its beauty, but the most remarkable thing is the quiet.

The wind is gone.

Your breaths are the only thing in his ears. You dip your legs in the water, splashing Lo’ak and taking him out of the trance.

“Hey!” He grins, doing the same to you.

There’s a pause while he tries to think of what to say. This place seems sacred, somehow. At least to you. You’re a great warrior—the best one he knows—yet he’s never seen such a content look on your face. It suits you.

“Why did you bring me here?”

You shrug, bashful. “This place is only accessible with an ikran. There is no other way to get up here.”

He stays silent, staring at you to go on. You avoid his gaze, opting to stare at the ripples you create in the water.

“I have been waiting to show you this place since I discovered it.”

“Have you…shown it to anybody else?”

There’s a longing in your eyes. “Neteyam.”

He is taken aback. Why would you take him here? He perks up, trying to look at your face. He sees the smirk.

“That’s not funny.”

You finally turn your head to him. “It is to me.”

“You’re messing with me, right? I just have to double-check.”

“I am,” You chuckle, lips settling into a thin line.

Another moment of silence.

“You will have to go through Uniltaron soon.”

He hums in agreement. He knows you had recently completed yours, he was there.

“After that, you will be free to choose a mate.”

A tiny flame of hope flickers in his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, I will be.”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

He doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

Your shoulders drop ever so slightly, but with the quiet echo, he hears.

“I always had the feeling you were spoken for,” you whisper. “Will you tell me who?”

He contemplates on it. Telling you would be the biggest risk of his life. It would change the nature of your relationship forever.

Before he can say anything, though, the sound of a water droplet reaches his ears. His eyes snap to you, and you have taken off your rider’s mask to wipe at the tears on your eyeline.

He scoots closer, shoulders touching. “Hey,” he puts a hand on your back. “What’s wrong?”

“You know what it feels like for someone to have your heart, don’t you?” You finally look at him again.

“I do.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

Since when did someone have your heart?

He wants to know who it is. Who makes you feel the way he feels for you.

He answers with the truth, “It does.” He clears his throat, trying to think of more to say. “But it doesn’t have to.”

“How?” You’re hugging your middle. He can feel you closing in on yourself.

The simple answer is that being with you flips that pain onto its head and it disintegrates. The hurt is never there long as he’s with you. But how can he tell you that if your heart belongs to someone else?”

“What do I do, Lo’ak? Please.” You almost plead for his answer. Your tears have stopped, and you, again, are searching his eyes for something. He has never seen you this vulnerable before. He wants to be the only person to witness you like this.

“You tell them.”

When you don’t respond, he takes his own advice. He bares his heart out to you.

“You’ve always had mine.” He says it so quietly that he doesn’t think you process the words until about three agonizing seconds later.

Yet you don’t say anything.

I’ve made a mistake, he thinks.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong when you finally respond by laying a hand on his cheek.

“You have always had mine, too.”

-

Here is a reference picture for a rider’s mask !! Lo’ak’s would look different obv, the middle part would have a river crystal that’s actually taken from the river where Y/N realized they loved Lo’ak (my cuties.) The leather would be a bit lighter, and I also imagine some beads from Tuk woven into it on the sides (Tuk found out and insisted on helping. My sweet summer child)

(additional author’s note: i know they don’t technically get a visor until fully completing their rite of passage but let’s pretend that’s not true for the sake of the fic)

[yanderes-galore]

hey, can i request a concept for romantic yandere pharma from the idw transformers comics with a gender neutral human reader?

I can try! Pardon me if my depiction of Pharma is wrong :( I'll take tips on how to write him!

Yandere! Pharma with a Human! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Cybertronian/Human, Obsession, Manipulation, Protective behavior, Possessive behavior, Isolation, Dubious/Forced relationship, Blood/Energon, Violence, Sadism, Murder, Stalking mentioned.

Pharma is an Autobot who was manipulated by the D.J.D but I would not say he goes by all of their morals.

Sorry if I'm wrong but I don't think Pharma is all that against organics.

He isn't one to actively try to kill them off, so he's in the middle when it comes to humans.

He probably hasn't met many due to organics not usually being a Delphi.

The planet it resides on is a mining facility so organics don't typically stick around.

For this concept I'll say you are an exception, you're an organic that Pharma met around Delphi.

That or you can choose some other means, I'm not really focusing on how you met.

I'm more going to focus on how Pharma would act with a human.

I feel Pharma would be overall okay with a human if he met them around his time at Delphi.

Any time before the whole rust incident and Pharma making deals with Tarn he's decent to be around.

He's a control freak though and you being an organic probably still sparks that trait.

Probably even more, actually.

At first he thinks keeping a human around may be messy.

His jobs works with the Cybertronian medical field so he'd typically keep a human out of the way.

Others know you are technically Pharma's human companion.

Yet they never bother complaining or talking about it.

It's his business.

Pharma could take care of a human, ordering supplies is a bit difficult but he manages.

Plus, since you're around Autobots so often, you begin to learn their anatomy.

It's actually nice to help Pharma with his job.

Your relationship is a bit complicated.

You see him as a great doctor, a trusted individual who cares for you. A guardian. A protector.

Pharma originally sees you just as a companion, a small lab assistant that helps him and provides company when no one else will.

Then he soon begins to see you in the more romantic sense.

Pharma no doubt tries to figure out how you two can be compatible.

He isn't a sadistic doctor by thus point and genuinely wants to have a life with you.

You're rather isolated from other humans out here.

Maybe you took this job because of that, maybe you just wanted the chance to interact with a species not your own.

Either way, Pharma thinks you could use some companionship.

A more intimate kind of companionship.

Pharma doesn't have a holoform, not many Cybertronians do, but he considers one when it comes to speaking with you.

He could order the ability to do that if it meant being closer to you....

A pairing with a human is still somewhat of a foreign concept, yet he still finds himself thinking about it while you watch him work.

The moment someone says something negative about you, his glare could kill.

Pharma is protective about you.

He never lets you outside due to the cold, he keeps you beside him all the time, everyone knows he claims you.

It's when he makes deals with Tarn to give T-Cogs that he hides you.

The D.J.D hates organics.

Pharma is aware of this and keeps you deep in Delphi when he deals with them.

You most likely slowly watch as Pharma grows more sadistic and insane.

He appears too giddy to be covered in Energon, tearing T-Cogs out of patients when they die to give to Tarn.

Despite this he gets so soft with you.

He tries to tell you he's doing this deal to care for you, he wants to keep you safe like he always has.

He would say it's because he loves you but he isn't sure if you'd be ready for that.

He's still controlling with you, telling you what to do and how to act at times.

Although he keeps saying it's for your own good.

It hurts you to see Pharma grow more insane, going to the point of murdering patients just to use them for parts.

Pharma may even use the deal as an excuse to kill anyone who disrespects the bond between you.

He doesn't have to help the patients who call you degrading names as they walk in his doors.

They aren't useful alive anyways.

He uses his job as an excuse to get rid of rival.

No need to worry, dear... they were beyond saving.

Even when sadistic and insane, corrupted by the D.J.D, he is still addicted to you.

Just like a drug he can't seem to get enough of you.

There will come a time during his degrading mental state that he confesses.

He'll call you over in private, sitting at a desk.

Then he'll pick you up into his hands and pour his spark out.

He'll admit to having feelings for you for what feels like forever.

He watches you live around the station.

He loves to watch you... he can't get enough of you.

You stare at him with wide eyes as he raises you to his face, large blue optics looking at you with adoration.

He apologizes for making bad decisions but promises you it was to keep a future for the both of you.

He just loves you so much...

He never wants to let you go...

Pharma may even try to kiss you by this point, something small though as he doesn't want to crush you.

He doesn't understand why you resist?

To you it's obvious.

You see him as a murderer, a traitor, and a mad doctor.

Meanwhile Pharma feels not much has changed.

He still takes care of you.

You should love him.

Even if you don't, or you no longer do, Pharma will keep you right where he wants you.

You can't go anywhere without him anyways.

You'll freeze to death, or the D.J.D will get you.

It's just you and him....

Pharma knows you have nowhere to go.

He just strokes your cheek and tells you you'll be okay.

He'll love you just like a human partner, if not better.

You think anything between you is impossible, Pharma doesn't care.

He just cares that he has you, Tarn never even has to know.

The only time Pharma loses you is when Ratchet comes in to ruin everything in his eyes.

When Ratchet or any of his crew tries to come near you, Pharma scoops you up.

He hates the idea of another Cybertronian seeing or talking to you.

Ratchet may be a "good friend" of his, but that doesn't mean he's allowing him to speak with you.

It's after Ratchet fights with Pharma in the rust incident that Pharma lets you go.

Not willingly either.

It hurts the mad doctor to see you in the hands of Ratchet, the falling apart medic bot that tossed him over a cliff.

Yet... Pharma has a feeling he'll see you again some day.

That day will be the day he gets his revenge against Ratchet... and it will be the day he takes you back as his human.

[bruh-myguy-what]

If Not Him, Perhaps Me

Hoooooooo boy! I cannot believe how long it's been. It's almost criminal I've let this go on for so long without an update. I hate doing that...but the ADHD and life decided that just couldn't- which was great (derogatory). However! I am back. Fully, entirely, and totally invested in restarting this series because I still love the idea and want to see it through. I now have an AO3 as well, so I will posting all of the updates and original parts there once I get everything organized.

If you were part of the original tag list and would like to not longer be apart of it, no hard feelings- just message me to let me know and you will be promptly removed for the notifications!

But! If you would like to be added or I forgot to add you- since it's been 140000 years- please just let me know! (whether via message or comment)

________________________

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Pairing- Thrawn x f!reader x Luke Skywalker

Summary- After being aboard the Chimera, for who knows how long, you've grown accustomed to the troopers and how things operate, but one thing that just won't become easy is dealing with Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Word Count- 3.5K

Warnings- Mentions of kidnapping, confrontation, angst

Days turned into weeks which, you could only assume, was closely turning into a month. There were no signs of Luke knowing where in the galaxy you might be or even where to begin looking for you. At the earlier stages of your confinement, fear settled in your heart when the thought of being left aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer alone...without Luke, reared its head. Over time though, complete loneliness dissipated and was replaced by the friendly interactions you participated in with a few Storm Troopers that were in charge of your immediate well-being. "Are you ready for your lunch today," a familiar modulated voice echoed through your small confinement as he called your name.

Lifting your head from the notebook given to you a few weeks prior, a sigh escaped your lips. "I don't know, Danver, is it that gross mush stuff again or, will I be allowed to eat normal food for once while here?" Your comment garnered a laugh from the trooper as he opened the cell doors, setting the plate on a table given to you at Thrawn's request.

"Sorry, pal," the soldier replied, his modulated voice still resonating with a smile, "not even we get to enjoy delicacies like that aboard the Chimera."

While scooting yourself off the comfortable cot you currently spent your time nestled in (which too had been replaced at the request of the Grand Admiral after you'd mentioned off-handedly something about neck and back pain), you set aside the drawing book. A look of displeasure crossed your face, "who honestly eats this stuff willingly?" A disgruntled mumble was all the trooper beside you needed to hear, to pat your shoulder assuringly in response.

"Apparently, you do," his laugh caused your shoulders to slump. "Don't act so melodramatic. At least you're the admiral's favorite prisoner," Danver's joke hardly seemed comical to you as the cell forcefield reappeared behind him. "You might be the admiral's favorite person entirely aboard the Chimera, in fact." 

A snort escaped from between your lips as you disregarded the boring plate, preferring the growling in your stomach over the same taste of dried fruits and cold meat. "That's real cute, Danver." You quipped, "Next time, why don't you let him know that so maybe I can go home instead of being held captive here."

Raising his hands in defense, the trooper shook his head. "Listen snarky, all I'm saying is that if you complain about something, it changes, and at a good speed too. If you mention that you're bored, you receive gifts to prevent said boredom- again- at a pretty astounding rate. You also have an array of soldiers at your doorstep to keep you company- though that one could be because we all like you," he laughed at the end of his explanation. His words surprised you, the conviction in which he mentioned the favoritism Thrawn had seemingly shown you caught you off guard. Skepticism lurked in your glare at your newfound "friend" as you stole a glance at the journal gifted to you. "Everyone else has mentioned it, not just me. I've just been the first one to say something to you, apparently." He chuckled again at the suspicious look on your face.

"You're laughing, but I don't find the joke funny..." you grimace at the trooper.

"That's because I'm not joking, snarky," Danver responded steadily and even behind the black visor, you could feel his unwavering stare. "Believe it or not, the admiral has taken a liking to you and all of the Chimera crew can tell." And with a salute, the trooper left you with a thousand thoughts swirling.

There was no way someone as stern and withdrawn as Thrawn would have any kind of favorites, at all, let alone aboard the Chimera. He was only using you to get to Luke, that was it.

Though...

Your thoughts drifted to the conversations you'd been having recently. While you couldn't recount exactly how long you had been on the Chimera, you knew it had felt long enough to feel an odd...growth to your chats with Thrawn. He had been what, you guessed, would be considered "kinder" when he spoke directly to you. At times he had even invited you to his office merely to speak about your art or have you critique some other interesting pieces he had gathered over his years of travel. Thinking about it long enough it did seem that you were learning more facets of the Grand Admiral, though nothing about him personally, just...small details that one could only learn about someone from being in their presence enough.

Of course, even under this realization, there was hardly any way you were going to be kind back to him. He was an Imperial Grand Admiral using you to gain control over the rebel cause, 'Over my dead body.' You thought stubbornly to yourself.

If Thrawn wanted to bring the Empire back into power again, he'd have to do it without your knowledge or help. You just hoped he wouldn't catch onto clues about things as easily as he'd seemed to have with your previous art.

Picking at the pages of your journal, you fidgeted in thought.

____________________________

"She seems to be acclimating very well, sir," a modulated voice spoke in reply to an earlier command, "the troopers all seem to love her. While the other crew members don't seem to interact with her all that much, when we escort her on her strict walks around the vessel, she keeps to herself and doesn't seem to nose around."

Something about this sudden growing knowledge of how well you had been treating his troopers bothered Thrawn. You'd been aboard the Chimera for going on three months and yet in your constant visits with him you still refused to open up at all, quipping with biting comments and passive-aggressive retorts, even when asked simple questions.

The duality perplexed him. Of course, he understood very well that he had never been known for his social skills, even back in the Ascendancy. Even then he expected that at some point you would see he didn't desire for your entire stay aboard his vessel to be excruciating.

Though at times it seemed you'd rather it be such way.

You were unbearably tenacious.

Difficult to speak with about any subject, and downright defiant at some intervals.

It...astonished Thrawn.

"Captain," the cold, calculating voice finally broke the long growing silence, "tell me, why do you believe our captive is so," he pondered for a moment, "agreeable with you?" The Chiss stopped his journey, to stand before the large sculpture in his office- scrutinizing it.

Silence ensued once more as the Storm Trooper considered the question, "U-Uh...sir?"

Turning only his head to glance over at the soldier standing taut by the door, Thrawn encouraged, "I am simply endeavoring to understand what it is she sees so sociable in my troopers, Captain."

"W-Well sir, it seems to me that since she trusts us to not harm her, we have gained her confidence. She's mentioned how scrutinizing you are about her, she..." The trooper wavered for a moment, "She seems to distrust you, uh, sir."

"I see."

The curt reply concerned the captain, but he remained diligent in his stance.

"You are dismissed, Captain. Thank you for your time." Thrawn returned to look back over at the large statue.

"Y-Yes sir!" The trooper bowed quickly and retreated through the doors behind him.

Left alone in the quiet of his office, the Grand Admiral considered what he’d been told. "She does not trust me, hmm?" He wandered back over to his desk, lowering himself into his seat. "It would seem my efforts have not had their desired result. Perhaps I must attempt something more... suitable."

____________________________

"Ya know, I feel like at this point, we could honestly just," you paused dramatically, gesturing for a moment with your hands, "stop wasting our time with these meetings, don't you?"

Thrawn sat idly in his chair, behind his desk, elbows propped up on his desk to steeple his fingers in thought, silently watching you. He'd called you in for another round of conversation at random and it had felt as if all fear had left the atmosphere that surrounded him- now you were just annoyed.

"I feel like we've gone back and forth enough for you to understand that your little gifts?" You lifted the journal he requested you to bring this time, "They aren't going to sweeten me up to you."

"Are you unhappy with the opportunity to practice your art once more?" His sudden question caught you off point as you opened your mouth to continue your tirade, mouth now hanging open dumbly. "Perhaps I have misunderstood your subtle requests then. If you are so displeased with my efforts, then you are more than welcome to return the journal."

Was this guy serious? Was he guilt-tripping you?

Lost for a response, you sat back in your seat, contemplatively. Were you being ungrateful? Had this "warlord of the Empire" truly tried to do something nice for you?

No.

He kidnapped you!

No way!

A small intake of air and the soft rustle of clothing caught your attention and looking back over the desk you saw Thrawn had resumed his casual position in his seat- inclining back a bit, a long leg crossed over the other as he grabbed up his datapad. "I have arranged for you to be transferred into your own personal quarters. Your things are being moved as we speak, please come to me if there is anything out of place. There shall be a set of Storm Troopers at your door to ensure your safety," then his glowing eyes met yours, severe and still unnerving, "and to dissuade your premature and unannounced departure from my ship."

Narrowing your eyes at the admiral, you cocked your head in confusion and irritation. "Wha-?"

"It would seem we have nothing further to discuss," Thrawn interrupted with an oddly soft use of your name, averting his eyes back to the datapad in his hands, "you are dismissed. A trooper outside shall see you to your new space."

Why did he keep interrupting you?!

"But I'm not finished!" You protested heatedly, rising from your seat to place your hands and journal on the desk. Leaning furiously toward the Chiss, "Why are you being so weirdly nice to me? You want information, I know it, but I'll be damned if you think I'm stupid enough to fall for these petty acts of kindness as your method of manipulation."

Your frustration was only met with calm silence, not a shifting of his red eyes, nor a flinch in his body. He seemed thoroughly unimpressed by your outrage. 'How dare he ignore me!' You fumed, gripping the desk edge until your knuckles were white.

"Damn it, Thrawn! I don't care if you're a Grand Admiral of some extinct Empire, I will not be ignored!"

"It would surprise you then, to hear that perhaps I am not manipulating you?" Again with his dumb questions as responses!

That didn't settle your anger any and it seemed as if Thrawn could sense that, as he sat down his datapad, leaned forward, and grabbed the discarded journal from in front of you. "Perhaps", he spoke casually, surveying the worn cover, then before speaking again, met your eyes with what seemed like....warmth? "You have genuinely piqued my inquisitiveness and whether you are connected to a Jedi is no longer an appeal of mine, but rather you are."

An odd feeling settled over you at his gaze. Whereas before Thrawn had only ever seen through you- or so it felt- he was staring...at you now. His eyes seemed to carry the oddest hint of tenderness, maybe? It was something new, something you hadn't seen in his stare before, and you had been the subject of most of his glaring recently.

Even as you stood there, voiceless, the admiral's eyes simply observed you. A warmth spread into your cheeks at his open stare and you withdrew from the desk clumsily, eyes averting to anything else around you.

Were you blushing?

Over Thrawn!

How embarrassing...you were supposed to be furious, not...bashful at such an odd compliment.

Was it a compliment?

Standing from his desk, Thrawn positioned his hands behind his back in his typical way, "Come, allow me to show you to your room then."

Once outside the hall, the Storm Troopers began to follow behind, to which Thrawn coolly discharged them. You were so wrapped up in what just happened in his office, you hardly recognized the confused glances they had given one another. The metal grating below you was suddenly far too fascinating to care about the odd looks of the passing Chimera crew.

The entire walk had been silent, Thrawn never tried to quell any uncomfortable energy you were clearly giving off, he was just...quiet.

That was until the two of you had reached your new room and he greeted the two Storm Troopers already stationed, "Please see that she is satisfied with the room." Thrawn then turned to you, to which you slowly met his glowing eyes. His height was as intimidating as ever, that had never changed. "As I previously mentioned, if you find anything not to your liking, I would request that you address me personally about the matter. You know where my office is by now, I assume?"

"Yes, I do." You quietly replied, nodding meekly.

"Good. Then I shall see you for our next meeting when I call for it." And after handing you off to the guards, the admiral departed down the hall from where the two of you came.

Confusion upon confusion racked up in your mind as you stepped forward, one of the troopers pressing the button to open your door for you. "Weird he brought you here himself, huh?" One of them chimed in as you passed him. Thankfully you recognized the voice and it brought some ease to you.

"Shut up, Arrance, I'm already confused enough." You grumbled, the door sliding shut behind you.

Once you reached for the light, you were shocked to see how...cozy the room actually was. An enormous bed sat in the left quarter of the room, framed by an even larger window that looked out into the starry ocean of space. The bed seemed large enough for four people, fitted with a plush comforter and so many warm-colored blankets it looked like a nest you could crawl into and hibernate for months. The pillows looked just as inviting, their matching covers pulling the colors together beautifully. There was an expansive couch that seemed to go on forever and had nearly as many pillows as the large bed, behind it, butted up against the steel wall, and beside the window sat a desk.

As you explored you noticed that you had a private fresher with everything you could need to pamper yourself, an easel with canvases, paints, and paintbrushes, and a very small kitchenette. Everything.

Thrawn had thought of...everything.

There was nothing this nice aboard the Falcon...

Though, your family was there.

Han and Leia.

Chewie.

R2.

...Luke.

As you sat on the couch, thinking about how much you missed everyone, your heart ached for Luke. Hearing his sweet laugh, feeling his warm touches- as few as they were. And while the room Thrawn had given you was nice...you couldn't help but be reminded of how long you must've been away from the group by now. No one had given you an exact frame of how long you'd been aboard the Chimera, not even Thrawn, but it’s had to be months at this point. Months with still no sign of Luke...

You knew he wouldn't leave you in the hands of the Imperials indefinitely, even if just because you were friends...and nothing more.

Nothing more.

Never more.

Not for a Jedi.

Not for Luke.

Though, that would never stop your heart from yearning for more. Luke meant the world to you and loving him came so easily, especially when that precious smile appeared on his face whenever Han would say something stupid, or Leia would mention something about the twins. His gentleness when it came to those he cared about. His determination and love for others.

Luke was a wonderful man. A strong, compassionate man.

You missed them all so much...

You missed Luke even more.

Maybe they'd come to save you soon.

You just had to hold out hope.

_

A knock roused you unexpectedly.

You'd fallen asleep?

Of course, you had. The couch was the most comfortable thing you'd relaxed in for weeks- besides that seat in Thrawn's office that was arguably snuggly.

"Oh right..." you mumbled to yourself as you wiped at your tired eyes. You'd forgotten you’d yelled at Thrawn earlier and then he gave you that weird compliment. "What a jerk."

Another knock brought your attention back and you stood to answer it. With a whoosh, you were met with a trooper holding out your journal. How'd he get that? Didn't they move it in with everything else?

"The admiral wanted me to make sure this made its safe return to you." Danver's voice reached your ears and you looked at him confused.

"The admiral?" You echoed curiously.

The nod of his plastoid helmet made everything click back into place, "Yeah. He said you'd left it in his office."

You hadn't left it! That insufferable Chiss had swiped it from you while you were shouting at him! What was with him, anyway?!

You took a deep breath, leveling your irritation, this wasn't Danver's issue. No need to yell at him. No, you’d save that for Thrawn’s next meeting. "Thanks, Danver. I appreciate it."

Muttering a response, he peaked his head in and glanced around with a whistle, modulator crackling slightly from the sound. "He really did give you the best quarters on the ship. That's nuts."

"I'm sorry?" You responded.

Danver moved to stand out of the doorway once again, "word's been going around that the admiral moved you to the nicest room, aside from his, on the Chimera." He chuckled in good humor, "Looks like they weren't lying. Now you really can't argue with me that you're his favorite, huh?" With a nudge to the arm, the captain left after a farewell, the door sliding shut.

You blinked a few times, trying to process what he’d said. It took a moment, but in stunned silence you walked over to slouch into the bed, the journal still in hand. "What the hell is happening?" You muttered, opening up the pages aimlessly, trying to comprehend the last few hours or so of the day.

Thrawn had allowed you to yell at him, instead meeting you with a very oddly placed compliment.

He then gave you, what Danver called, the best room on the Chimera- after having shouted directly at him.

What in the galaxy was going on?

Then your eyes caught something out of place as you flipped through the filled pages, "huh?" Annotations had been made on one of your drawings of a Storm Trooper- coincidentally, Danver- speaking to what seemed to be another person not pictured on the page. The script looked familiar and you realized why quickly after reading the comments.

It was Thrawn's handwriting.

'Captain Danver's plastoid chest piece has a notch or two more than you have decided to add here. Though overall I find your attention to detail praiseworthy. Not many see things as you seem to. The way you've drawn him, opting to illustrate him speaking with a fellow trooper, shows your level of personal esteem for him. Your art is beautiful, your talent is unmatched. Please, continue, I would like to see more.'

Snapping the journal shut and throwing it on the floor, cheeks hot, you curled yourself into the cozy blankets "Stupid Chiss."

________________________________

Tag list:

@blueberry-thrawn @myevilmouse @blackmonitor @coffeeorsomething-irl @torchbearerkyle @agenteliix @rebelmarylou @danger-xylophones @srryxmate @dindjarinsluvbot

(there are people I know were following but didn't request to be tagged, and I feel bad to tag them but I know they were asking for updates so if that's you and you want to be tagged, please let me know!)

[coopigeoncoo]

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: Teen+

Tags: Reader-Insert, Stalking, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Psychological Torture (There is a plot for a character to get kidnapped and assaulted, but it doesn't actually happen), Sex Toys, Happy Ending

---

A late night meal delivery to Pro Hero Shouto goes terribly wrong, leaving you trapped in a room together with no obvious means of escape. You find yourself holding out hope not just for a rescue, but also for Shouto to somehow stay oblivious to the massive crush you've had on him for months now.

With the outlook for you future growing increasingly hazy, one thing becomes pointedly clear:

You can't keep things bottled up forever.

---

"It's true we don't know what might happen to us," Shouto admitted, his mismatched eyes locked onto yours; intense and mesmerizing. "But we'll face it together, okay?"

"Okay," you swallowed thickly. "But I think you definitely pulled the short straw as far as teammates go."

"Really?" Shouto asked, his eyes shining as he stared at you. "I don't think I could have chosen anyone better if I tried."

---

Continue reading below or follow the link to Ao3!

Society is built on a series of white lies, little untruths we tell ourselves to make life seem more bearable. Things like how good will always prevail over evil, that hard work equates to success, and that your Quirk didn't dictate the direction your life took.

You had some increasingly strong suspicions about those first two platitudes, but the fact that you had a teleportation Quirk and had only ever been hired for courier work left you feeling very certain that the last one was absolute bullshit.  

Last month your boss had commemorated your third year of employment at Über Munch, a meal delivery service for Heroes, with a mesh bag half-full of dollar store candy and a keychain with the company logo on it in lieu of something you would actually appreciate.  

Like a raise. Or a day off once and a while.  

So you were feeling pretty unenthusiastic about work these days now that you knew how little your effort was actually valued by the suits down at the corporate office. You had never been this tempted to quit before and knew it would likely be a smart move to start sending out resumes and have something else lined up for when you eventually snapped, but it was hard to actually put forth the effort when you didn't totally hate your job most days.  

Your Quirk, Revisit, allows you to instantaneously travel to anywhere you've walked before. It made some aspects of your job easier, like quickly delivering meals directly to Hero agencies in the major metropolitan area; but it didn't make it effortless. Some orders were just more difficult to fulfill than others.  

A call from Fat Gum always requires multiple trips from a handful of different restaurants to fulfill, a task that left you winded and lightheaded from both the quantity of food you had to carry and overusing your Quirk. But he always tipped generously, which was more than you could say for other Heroes. Accepting an order from Vine would guarantee that you would end up dumped on the edge of some overgrown forest with a bag of vegetable samosas in one hand and a compass in the other, rewarded for all your trouble with an evangelical comic tract once you'd actually managed to track her down. 

But then there were the clients you didn't mind getting calls from. Mt. Lady never ordered meals, she just wanted someone to drop off a bottle of her favorite bargain brand rosé on her days off so she could focus on relaxing. She'd answer the door in an old pair of sweatpants with a clay mask pasted thickly across her face, a rom-com blaring in the background as she accepted her delivery. It was a charmingly domestic view of a woman most often seen splashed across the covers of beauty magazines.  

And then there was your favorite client of all, Todoroki Shouto. Every Tuesday and Thursday the same request would ping across the screen of your work phone: cold soba with extra ginger to be delivered to his agency precisely at eight thirty, which was when he took a break from his nightly paperwork. You'd started to become friendly over the course of your routine interactions, sharing courteous greetings and anecdotes from your respective work weeks. Shouto's stories were always more engaging than yours, but he was polite enough to laugh and offer commiseration at the appropriate points as he unpacked his dinner.

You tried to appreciate Shoto's companionship without interpreting his gentle smiles and welcoming demeanor as anything other than what they were; a show of kindness from a good man. But every time Shouto gifted you with a glimpse of his pearly whites you couldn't stop the sudden hitching of your breath, mind racing with snippets of impossible dreams you couldn't help but crave.  

It was easy to let yourself imagine being with him; waking up in a tangle of limbs as early morning light streamed across your bedspread from between the too-wide gaps in your blinds. Knowing your breath was sour from sleeping but kissing him anyway, too needy for his attention to wait until after you'd brushed your teeth.   

But you know life isn't like it is in the fairy tales. Princes don't marry peasants and pedigree Heroes don't end up with minimum wage service workers. You'd keep on delivering Shouto's noodles twice a week until inevitably, a year or two down the road, the tabloids would be saturated with news of his engagement to some super model or socialite. That was what was expected; what he deserved.  

But you could, and would, fantasize about what could have been if things were just a little bit different. If you were richer or more successful. If you hadn't been too scared to take the entrance exams for placement at a Hero School. If you existed in the same social stratosphere as each other.  

They were nice, those little flights of fancy you allowed yourself; the small sprinkles of sweetness that made the bitter taste of reality more palatable. You made time for one more brief daydream; a vision of gentle sighs and entwined fingers, before you dug your phone out of your pocket. Thumb swiping across the screen, you bring up your work app and see a new notification light up your screen: a request for cold soba with extra ginger.  

With a weary sigh, you clutched your phone to your chest, screwed your eyes shut, and disappeared in a shower of sparks. 

You'd become a regular feature around Shouto's agency, recognized on sight by the security guards and night cleaning crew. So the sudden appearance of a new receptionist next to the doors to Shouto's office was a jarring change in an otherwise predictable delivery routine. A sharp looking woman had replaced his usual assistant, the round-faced and rounder-bellied Mrs. Yamori; a devastatingly friendly and heavily pregnant woman with a heteromorphic gecko Quirk. 

Customer service smile firmly in place, you approached the desk, checking the gleaming name plaque set in front of her.  

"Hello, Ms. Yokubou!" You greeted cheerily, startling the receptionist who had been focused on sorting through a small pile of mail. "Did Mrs. Yamori go on maternity leave already?" 

"How am I supposed to know?" The woman snapped, carefully placing a small box at the top of the stack. "I'm here to help Shouto, not spread office gossip."

"Right," you coughed nervously in the face of her hostility. "Well, I have his dinner. So I'll just go ahead and knock."

"Dinner?" She hissed, swiveling her chair to face the monitor on the left side of the desk. "There isn't any mention of dinner on his schedule and I certainly didn't call you."

"I don't know what to tell you. I deliver Mr. Todoroki's dinner every Tuesday and Thursday at this time," you sighed, pleasant demeanor slipping as this conversation eroded what little was left of your patience after a long day.  

"Well, not today you don't," Yokubou sniffed, waving you away with a dismissive hand. "Shouto is simply too busy this evening. You may go."

"Listen, even if I wanted to go, Über Munch guarantees delivery to Heroes. That's sort of their entire business plan."

"I told you that your services won't be necessary!" Yokubou screeched, reaching her hand towards the receiver on her desk. "Don't make me call security!"

"Would you, actually? They know me down there and it seems like getting a third party involved might help speed things up a bit."

Yokubou's brow twisted as she pulled the desk phone up to her ear, but whatever sort of retort she had poised on the tip of her tongue evaporated the moment Shouto's office door opened and he stuck his head out curiously.  

"Shouto!" She crooned, rolling her shoulders back to push her chest further out, the top buttons on her fitted blouse struggling under the added pressure. "I'm so sorry to have disturbed you! But I have everything under control and-"

"There you are," Shouto sighed in relief as his gaze landed on you, pointedly ignoring the antics of his receptionist. "I was starting to get worried."

"Sorry I'm late," you said, holding the bag out for him to take. "This is normally the part where I would apologize for your food getting cold, but it was already cold to start with, so I'm just going to skip that bit."

Shouto accepted his dinner with an amused huff, fingers brushing yours as the bag changed hands.  

"Would you like to come in?" Shouto asked, pushing the door to his office open wider. "I need some help on today's crossword puzzle. There's a lot of pop culture questions that I don't know the answers to."

"You can't, Shouto! Not tonight! You're far too busy!" His receptionist said, shooting to a standing position and grabbing the pile of mail into her arms. "There's something important here that needs your immediate attention."

"Is there, now?" Shouto hummed thoughtfully, shifting the bag with his soba into the crook of his arm so he could accept the towering stack of mail.  

"And I'm sure you need privacy to open classified mail," Yokubou insisted, squeezing herself into the space between you and Shouto.  

"It'll be fine," Shouto assured her with a tight smile. "I'll just save all the top secret letters until I'm alone."

"But-!"

"That will be all for today, Ms. Yokubou," Shouto dismissed, reaching around her to place a palm between your shoulder blades and guide you into his office. 

"No! You don't understand!" Yokubou wailed, clawing at the stack of mail Shouto held securely to his chest, trying to pry the missives away from him.

"I understand that it has been a very long day and you must be exhausted. Go home and rest and we'll talk about your lack of professionalism first thing in the morning," Shouto said sternly, shutting the door quickly behind him and engaging the lock with one swift motion. He ignored the pounding knocks that shook the door in its frame and the repeated frantic cries of 'Shouto!' as he made his way across the room, depositing the contents of his arms down onto his desk before collapsing into his office chair with a bone weary sigh.  

"Well she sure is…something," you offer diplomatically.  

"Fired is what she is," Shouto laughed dryly, scrubbing his hands furiously across his face. "That woman has been an absolute menace since day one. I tried to give her a chance to settle in, but it's beyond obvious that this job isn't a good fit for her."

"She only started on what? Friday?"

"Saturday," Shouto corrected, prying the lid off of his dinner and happily sniffing the ginger-covered noodles. "And since then she's thrown away all my fanmail, canceled a joint interview I had with Creati, and she keeps finding excuses to barge into my office. I've had to start locking my door."  

"Yikes," you said, wincing in sympathy and a fair amount of second hand embarrassment. "How long is Mrs. Yamori supposed to be gone?"

"Too long," Shouto groaned, pulling out a set of disposable chopsticks and snapping them neatly in half. "Do you think I could convince her to come back to work early if I hire her baby too?"

"I'm fairly certain that's illegal. Child labor and all that," you laughed, pulling one of the guest chairs up to the front of Shouto's desk and spinning the abandoned crossword around to glance at the clue columns. "Plus, babies cry a lot. It would probably be pretty disruptive."

"It couldn't be worse than my current situation," Shouto grumbled, the faint sounds of Yokubou's wailing still audible in the background.  

"I suppose the dental coverage for a baby would be pretty cheap," you muse, penciling in the answer for number thirty-two down. "They don't have any teeth."

"I wonder what's in that mail pile that had Ms. Yokubou so wound up," you pondered, tapping the pencil eraser against your cheek thoughtfully. 

"Good question," Shouto said, using the cheap paper napkin to dab primly at his lips even though you were fairly certain he didn't get a single particle of food on his face with how carefully he ate. "I thought she had slipped a confession letter into the stack, but all that's here is official mail and a couple of packages."

"Maybe one of those then?"

"Maybe," Shouto mused, separating out the parcels in question. "But I am expecting some deliveries. My Mother's birthday is coming up and I'm having her gifts shipped here so she doesn't stumble upon them when she visits my apartment."

"I guess the only way to know for sure is to open them," you say, tossing your pencil down in defeat and refocusing your attention onto Shouto as he picked up an envelope mailer and ripped open the tab. Reaching into the envelope, Shouto pulled out a small paperback novel.  

"It's the next volume in her favorite book series," he explained, setting the book aside with a smile. "I pulled some strings and got her an advanced copy."

"The ladies in her book club are going to be so jealous!"

"I know," Shouto grinned fiendishly in delight, the mischievous glint in his eye making your stomach muscles clench wickedly.

"And uh, what's in the last box?" You ask, trying to focus on anything other than your misplaced desire for the man in front of you.  

"Let's see, shall we?" Shouto said, slicing open the packing tape with a large set of shears from his desk drawer. Carefully reaching in through the layers of tissue paper, Shouto pulls out a long glass bottle. It's overly ornate, with pink tinted glass and gilded edges, the sort of thing your grandmother would have proudly displayed on her vanity while smacking your small hand away for trying to touch it without permission.  

"It's lovely," you say, only half-lying as you watched the golden tassel tied around the middle sway back and forth. "What's it for?"

"Perfume, I think?" Shouto guessed, face scrunched up as he examined the bottle closely. "I ordered the type Fuyumi told me to, but I don't remember it looking like this on the webpage?"

"Maybe it's a limited edition?" You suggest. "Or they noticed who was ordering and upgraded you to the deluxe version with like, extra ambergris or something?"

"I hope not. That would throw the fragrance completely off balance," Shouto winced, viscerally imagining the perfume you described. "Better check and make sure this isn't the deluxe edition."

And with those words, Shouto grasped the stopper on the bottle and pulled; a plume of thick yellow smoke billowing out from the mouth of the bottle. Gasping in surprise, you accidentally inhaled the spreading vapor; skin prickling painfully as you lost control of your limbs and tumbled to the floor. The last thing you saw before your vision blurred and unconsciousness claimed you was Shouto reaching out across the floor towards your prone body; shirt pulled over his nose and mouth in an effort to filter out the unknown gas.  

Untold minutes passed before the smoke finally dissipated. And when it did, there was no trace of you or Shouto left. Just a shiny pink bottle with it's stopper wedged firmly in place, glimmering cheerily in the warm light of Shouto's office.  

You woke up suddenly, contorted into an uncomfortable position on the floor with your clothes clinging to your clammy skin. Head pounding and stomach churning, you take in a deep breath and then promptly regret it as you inhale a lung-full of incredibly potent incense smoke.  

"Ugh," you coughed, nose twitching as you got hit by another low-hanging cloud of patchouli. With one last sputter you shifted your focus to examine the room around you. The walls were an eye watering bright pink and every horizontal surface, from the tables to the numerous book shelves mounted to the walls, were stuffed full of flickering candles and arrangements of waxy-petaled lilies. 

"Are you okay?" Shouto asked, voice calling out from behind the other side of the circular bed frame you were laying next to. 

"I dunno'," you mumble, pausing to let out a tiny belch that seemed to help settle your stomach. "I think so?"

"Good," Shouto stated, voice still commanding despite its breathy quality. "Can you walk?"

"Let me try," you said as you went to roll over onto your side, only to discover that your body wasn't responding the way it should; your limbs dragging and heavy. Panic flooded your body, blood thrumming hotly in your ears as you once again tried, and failed, to roll. Exerting more concentrated effort than you ever had before in your life, you managed to slowly rock over onto your shoulder; body now facing towards the bed.

Whatever gratification you felt from your accomplishment was quickly forgotten as you realized that your heaving gasps of exhaustion were slowly pushing you off balance, sending you toppling face first into the shiny wooden bedframe. Your forehead landed with a dull thunk; the shock of the impact intensified by the headache throbbing sharply behind your eyes. 

"Ouch," you hissed through your teeth, sucking up the pain as best you could. "Moving appears to be beyond me at the moment."

"That's okay," Shouto said, his voice dropping a decibel or two into a more comforting timbre. "Wait there. I'll come to you."

The one good thing about your fall was that it positioned your head closer to the foot of the bed, so you could watch as Shouto grasped handfuls of the carpet in his fists, pulling himself slowly into view with great heaving breaths. His strength finally gave out an arms length away from you, his fingers creeping along the floor until they collided with yours.  

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes, the embarrassing result of too many big feelings fighting against each other to be felt first- sadness and frustration and fear and utter relief when Shouto's fingers curled around your own. 

"You don't need to cry," Shouto soothed, his thumb rubbing small circles into the back of your hand.  

"I don't think I can stop," you sobbed, sucking in huge lungfuls of the incense-spiked air.

"That's okay, too."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm," Shouto hummed. "I'm told that crying can be very therapeutic. Do you feel any better?"

"No," you snorted, trying to downplay the telltale blubber of mucus collecting in the back of your throat.  

"Do you need to cry some more then?"

You nodded as emphatically as you could with the feeble muscles in your neck, and then opened your mouth and let out a piercing wail; tears streaming down your face and soaking quickly into the plush carpet fibers.

"Can you use your Quirk?" You sniffed, tears dried and tacky on your skin. You'd tried to wipe them away but only managed to poke yourself in the eye instead. "Because mine isn't working."

"No," Shouto growled in frustration, eyes narrowed at his hands as though they had personally betrayed him. "I'm hoping we'll regain control of them once our bodies recover."

"If we recover," you mutter dismally, shifting your gaze reluctantly towards Shouto when you felt him squeeze your hand tightly to gain your attention. 

"It's true we don't know what might happen to us," Shouto admitted, his mismatched eyes locked onto yours; intense and mesmerizing. "But we'll face it together, okay?"

"Okay," you swallowed thickly. "But I think you definitely pulled the short straw as far as teammates go."

"Really?" Shouto asked, his eyes shining as he stared at you. "I don't think I could have chosen anyone better if I tried."

At Shouto's insistence, you began doing little exercises in an attempt to kick start your muscles back into working order. You started small, with toe curls and rotating your arms in little circles. Everything was slightly numb and hard to control, a little like how your cheeks felt after you had a cavity filled at the dentist.  

"I'm scared, Shouto," you whispered as you lifted your forearm a paltry couple inches off of the floor. Shouto had already graduated to doing floppy bicep curls, but that was the difference in athletic ability between a Pro Hero and someone who's preferred marathon experience involved popcorn and a handful of movies. "Where do you think we are?"

"I don't know," he grunted from exertion, sweat beading at his temples. "But I have a couple of theories about how we got here."

"What're you thinking?"

"It's obviously some sort of Quirk at work," he gasped. "You're a Teleporter, right? Could it be something like that, do you think?"

"No. It's not teleportation," you groaned, arms collapsing limply onto the floor as you burned through the last of your energy. "I'm in an online chat group with a bunch of other Teleporters and we all have the same basic experience. And this is not it."

"Really?" Shouto said, pausing in his exercises to join your brief respite. "That's fascinating."

"Yeah. I guess rearranging all your atoms is a complex enough process there's just one way it works correctly."

Shouto huffed, staring up at your reflections in the large mirror that covered the entire ceiling. "What's it like? Teleporting, I mean?"

"I- it's sort of hard to explain," you say, wrinkling up your nose in thought. "So, like, imagine if people were made entirely out of sand."

"That sounds awful," Shouto grimaced. "Can you imagine what it would feel like if your tongue was made out of sand? Everything would taste gritty."

"It isn't literal," you huff. "You can imagine anything small. Rocks, sugar-"

"Rice," Shouto interrupted, nodding resolutely.  

"Yeah, sure. Rice. Imagine people are made out of rice. Teleporting is like, if every single one of those grains just scattered," you try to wave your hand around for emphasis but only succeed in making it flop on the ground like a dying fish. "But they aren't lost. I know where every single last one is, no matter how far away it wandered. And I can just pull them all back together again, wherever I choose."

"And it doesn't make you feel like all your muscles have atrophied?"

"No, not at all," you say, letting your head loll from side to side in an exaggerated shake. "I'm just- letting myself fall apart. I'm like ice when it starts to melt; shifting and warm."

"Oh," Shouto said, a sudden ring of clarity in his tone. "That's a nice feeling."

"Yeah, it is."

Eventually, you and Shouto progressed to being able to move around on the carpet. Shouto had worked himself up into a crawling position while you had adopted the much less elegant solution of wiggling around like a worm. You could tell by his puffed up cheeks and pointedly averted stare that he was barely holding back laughing at your expense. 

"Don't you dare laugh at me," you warned him, butt stuck up in the air as you wiggled your shoulders from side to side to achieve forward momentum.

"I'm- I'm not," Shouto lied, wheezing with every inch he crawled towards a distant dresser.

"Please," you scoffed. "I went to middle school. I know what it looks like to be laughed at. You could at least have the decency to do it to my face."

"Right, sorry," Shouto apologized, turning his head to look at you and promptly losing all composure; crashing to the ground as his laughter wracked his body and threw him off balance. He landed hard on his shoulder, still too uncoordinated to break his fall well.

"Ow!" He snorted out between guffaws, body shaking as he rubbed at his shoulder with limp fingers. "That- that hurt."

"Serves you right," you mutter peevishly, pushing your derriere further into the air to power your next creep forward. "I'm going to beat you to the dresser. That'll teach you to laugh at me."

"No," Shouto gasped, stumbling back onto his hands and feet. "I'm gonna- gonna get there first."

"Oh yeah?" You countered, summoning up your go-to school yard taunt like the paragon of maturity you were.

"Yeah," he shot back, the call of competition doing a lot to sober his demeanor as he rocked on his hands and took a shaky shuffle forward.

"Hey, Shouto!" You called, waiting until he was looking at you before you wiggled your butt from side-to-side as much as you could without toppling over. Shouto, not anticipating your underhanded maneuver, collapsed face first into the shag rug, the long fibers muffling his delirious cackling.  

"Cheater!" He cried out.

"Winner!" You laughed, sliding forward onto your belly and making a good headway towards the dresser, steadfastly ignoring Shouto's calls for a do-over.  

Shouto had predictably rallied and beaten you to the dresser like the finely tuned muscle machine he was, but you were proud to say you had given him a run for his money. The two of you now sat propped up against the dresser, bodies slumped against each other for an additional layer of support. You'd passed a fair bit of time by guessing how many flowers were crammed into each vase and then counting to see who came the closest.  

"Aaaaaand that's another round to me!" You proclaimed, nudging Shouto sharply. with your elbow when you heard him grumble discontentedly.

Todoroki Shouto, it turned out, was a very sore loser.

"One more time," he pouted, looking around the room for another cluster of lilies to tabulate. "Best fourteen out of twenty-seven."

"Yeah, I can agree to that. Because I've already won fourteen times," you reminded him smugly.  

"This game is silly," Shouto grumbled, managing to cross his arms across his chest petulantly on the second try. "I don't want to play anymore."

"Fine by me," you yawned, only slapping yourself in the face a little as you tried to cover your mouth. "I'm getting tired anyway."

"Go ahead and sleep," Shouto said, nudging your shoulder with his own until your head slid down into the cradle of his neck. It was wildly uncomfortable and far too intimate for your level of acquaintance, but you'd sooner eat your shirt than complain about it. "I'll take first watch."

"Watch for what?" You grumble, already well on your way to being unconscious. "There aren't even any doors."

"Or windows," Shouto added with a frustrated sigh as he dropped his head down onto yours, smushing your cheek into the hard edge of his clavicle.  

"Righ'," you mumble as your eyelids droop shut. "No win'ows."

"And I suppose if anyone was going to come in and kill us, they would have done that while we were lying defenseless on the floor."

Your eyes shoot open, all traces of exhaustion banished as you pry yourself away from Shouto and scramble into a more upright position.

"What's wrong?" He asked with genuine concern. "I thought you were tired?"

"I was, until someone started talking about us being killed," you laughed dryly, eyes darting around the room suspiciously, cataloging all the places a person could be laying in wait. There weren't a lot, but the privacy screen next to the chaise lounge was looking a little too sinister for your liking.  

"No, I specifically said that we likely wouldn't be murdered."

"Yeah, but you still mentioned the killing part! And now I can't stop thinking about it!" You babbled anxiously, trying to calm your rabbit-fast heartbeat with a couple of deep breaths. "This is probably the closest I've ever been to being murdered before, so a little bit of panic feels justified!"

"There is a strong correlation between kidnapping and murder," Shouto nodded.

"Do you- do you think that's comforting?" You screech, hysteria ratcheting up another few notches.  

"I- no?" Shouto said, voice pitching high in uncertainty. "But it is statistically significant!"

With a pitiful whine, you drop your head down into your mostly stable hands, doing your best to hold back another round of water works. Shouto, at a loss about what to say, drops his hand onto your back.

"There, there," he says, rubbing his palm slowly down your spine

"Now this- this is comforting," you sigh, arching your spine against his trailing hand.

"I'm glad," Shouto smiled. "This is how I pet stray cats, too. It's good to finally get some feedback on my technique."

"Now that we're back on our feet-," Shouto began, watching anxiously as you stumbled and were forced to grab onto a floor lamp for support. "-mostly, anyway. I think it would be a good idea for us to look around the room more thoroughly."

"Sounds good," you say, glancing at the lamp cord and wondering how far you explore while keeping your makeshift crutch plugged in. "Is there anything in particular we're looking for?"

"I'm not sure," Shouto said, setting his sights on the dresser drawers. "We know so little about our current situation that any information at all would be helpful."

"Right," you said, still unsure about what exactly to do, but not wanting to hinder Shouto's progress any further. You decided to inspect behind the privacy screen that had made you uneasy earlier. It was a tall thing that stretched far over your head, white wicker edges nearly scraping the mirrored ceiling. 

"Finding anything interesting," you panted over your shoulder as you took another baby step towards the screen, dragging your support lamp along with you.

"No!" Shouto yelped, slamming the top drawer he'd been staring into shut. "I mean, yes. There are things. But they aren't important. They're uh-," he paused to cough uneasily into a loose fist. "They're- intimacy supplies."

"Ah, sex toys," you nod, turning back to face your destination and give Shouto what little privacy you could to work through his embarrassment. "Say no more."

"I- yes. Thank you."

"But that opens up an entirely new realm of possible explanations," you grunt, tired but excited by your continued progress across the room. "Like, did we get knocked out by the gas from that bottle and dropped into a love hotel or something? As a joke?"

"A love hotel?" Shouto screeched.

"Yeah. They're normally all schmaltzy and themed like this," you explain, gesturing vaguely to the abundance of bright pink decor. "Normally that theme isn't Barbie Escape Room, but I'm not here to kink shame."

"I think you maybe should have taken on the dresser inspection. I'm completely out of my element here," Shouto lamented, holding up a large paddle for you to see. "I can't even begin to imagine why there's a cutting board in here."

"Oh, that's not-"

"Actually," Shouto interrupted, holding up a hand to halt your explanation. "I don't think I want to know."

Shouto continues to rifle through the drawers, utterly befuddled and horrified in equal turns when you finally reach your destination.  

"Alright," you said, mustering up the courage to peer behind the screen. "Let's see what's going on behind here."

You push the right side of the screen back slowly with your still weak arms, panels buckling at the hinges as it folded itself up like an accordion.  

"Any murderers tucked away back there," Shouto teases, weighing a comically large steel buttplug in his hand.

"Not a murderer, no," your voice trembling with mounting horror as you step out of the way, allowing Shouto to see around you for the first time. The wall behind the screen was full of pictures of Shouto, hundreds of them pieced together into a collage of obsession. Magazine covers, promo pictures, and selfies from Shouto's official social media accounts were all present in the mashup; but far more distressing were the inclusions of what had to be candid shots of the Hero.  

Blurry and over processed snapshots of Shouto shirtless that had been taken through his apartment window, spoon hanging from his mouth as he ate a cup of yogurt.

A far away street shot with him and a friend- you couldn't tell who it was exactly because they had been scribbled over with a pen so many times they had worn a hole in the paper; the bright pink of the walls visible through the missing space where a person should be.  

Classified photographs detailing the injuries sustained in the line of duty that had been copied from official Commission files; terrible, gruesome things of Shouto bruised and bloodied and at his most vulnerable.  

"You have a stalker, Shouto," you whispered.

"Oh," Shouto said numbly, the butt plug falling from between his fingers and hitting the top of the dresser with a loud thud. "Then this isn't a love hotel then," he paused and swallowed thickly, eyes glazed with an emotion you couldn't recognize as he stared at the wall behind you. "This is supposed to be my prison."

Things had only gotten worse from there. Now that you realized the purpose of the room, you were unable to unearth all sorts of hidden features that made your skin crawl. Hooks carved into the delicate filigree on the bed frame that were obviously made for handcuffs, a box of truffles with tiny syringe marks poked into the bottom, and a set of menacingly sharp sewing scissors tucked away in the bedside table drawer.  

Your stomach was churning painfully, but you couldn't tell if it was from hunger or fear.  

Not really knowing what else to do, you fumbled over towards the bed and collapsed onto it, nearly sliding off the slick satin duvet cover. A frantic scramble had kept you from dropping onto the floor, but it was a near thing. You watched as Shouto slid down onto the ground, a blank look on his face as he positioned his hands by his ears and began doing crunches.

"Are you- are you okay?" You ask from your sprawled out position on the bed. You'd tried to make eye contact with him through the mirror ceiling, but his gaze remained stubbornly averted to a blank spot on the wall you couldn't understand his interest in.

"I'm fine," he grunted through clenched teeth, forcing his shoulders up off the floor.

"You don't have to be."

"Yes I do!" Shouto bellowed, startling you as he threw himself down onto the floor, hands fisting in his hair in frustration. "You're trapped in here because of me!  It's my responsibility to get you out safely and I can't do it if I'm like this!" He said, waving a hand down at his sluggish body.  

"None of this is your fault," you assure Shouto, sliding to the edge of the bed and peering down towards him. "You're just as much a victim here as I am."

"You shouldn't even be a victim in the first place."

"Yeah, me being here obviously wasn't what your stalker had planned," you said, suppressing a shudder as you stared briefly at the collage of photos before reaching down and taking Shouto's hand into your own. "But I'm glad. I'm glad that it's me here with you, instead of- instead of them."

"I'm glad it's you, too," Shouto whispered, squeezing your hand tightly. "And not just because you don't have any plans to torture me."

"Being trapped in a room with me is torture enough," you joke, lazily swinging your interlocked hands back and forth in the air.  "There's no need to overdo it."

There are faint memories of some long ago humanities class echoing in the back of your brain; something about needing to have your basic needs met before you're able to consider any other, arguably more important, matters. So while you understood that you were likely waist-deep in mortal peril and should be very worried about your long term health and wellbeing, you were far more concerned about the fact that you really had to pee.

Like, right now.

"Hey, Shouto?" You clear your throat nervously, not entirely sure how to broach the subject of bodily fluids with the top-ranked Hero laying on the bed next to you. "I, uh- have something I need to say. But it's sort of embarrassing?"

"Oh?" Shouto asked curiously, turning his head to face you, your noses nearly brushing. "What is it?"

"Well, I just- I know that a lot is happening right now, and I don't want to burden you anymore than I already am, but I just don't think I can hold it in any longer."

"Tell me," Shouto whispered breathlessly, his eyes wide as he watched you nibble on your lower lip nervously.

"I-"

"Yes?" He said imploringly, face inching closer to yours.

"I really need to pee!" You cry out loudly, sending Shouto reeling back from the force of your sudden screech.

"Oh- uh," he stammers. "That's, hmm."

"God," you whine, covering your face with your hands. "This is so embarrassing!"

"There's no need to be embarrassed," Shouto rushed to assure you, grasping your wrists gently to pull them away from your face. "I'm sorry, I should have reacted better."

"It's fine," you mutter sheepishly as you peer up at him from under your lashes. "It's gross and uncomfortable and I shouldn't have just blurted it out like that."

"No, it's not that- I was just caught a bit off guard. I thought you were going to say something different," Shouto admits with a wistful sigh.

"Like what? That I need to poop?"

"No," he snorts, pushing himself to the edge of the bed and standing with relative ease. "Don't worry about it right now. Let's just focus on finding a place for you to relieve yourself."

"I'd suggest just picking a corner like animals do, but that doesn't seem like a viable option in a round room."

"We'll just have to get creative then, won't we?" Shouto smiled, lifting up one of the largest vases of lilies and flipping it upside down; water and flowers spilling onto the floor at his feet in a soggy clump.  

Shouto had originally set up your makeshift chamber pot behind the creepy stalker screen to give you some semblance of privacy, which was incredibly thoughtful of him. But the idea of peeing in front of one Shouto was hard enough, there was no way you could ever possibly bring yourself to pee in front of hundreds of little Shoutos pasted onto the wall. So the two of you combined your minimal strength together and managed to pull one side of the tall dresser away from the wall, creating a triangular little hidey-hole you hurriedly wedged yourself into.

"Don't look!" You called out over your shoulder, already pulling your zipper down before he could spin around fully.

"I won't," Shouto promised, staring dutifully across the room. With nothing more engaging to stare at, you join him in spectating the wall you were squeezed against. The pink paint had some sort of iridescent sparkles mixed into it that caught every flickering candle flame and created a hazy sort of glow that did nothing to help alleviate the headache you'd been nursing since you first woke up. The effect wasn't any less assaulting up close, so you were in the process of averting your eyes when the light behind you suddenly shifted; Shouto's dark shadow passing over you and catching on some strange divots on the otherwise smooth surface of the wall.  

Hesitantly, you raise your hand and run your fingers across the wall, watching the route your fingertips take as they follow the nearly invisible grooves.  

"Letters!" You gasp in excitement. "Shouto! There are letters on the wall!"

"Where?" Shouto demands, appearing over your shoulder in a flash, heedless of the fact that you were still mid-piss.  

"Ahhh! No peeking! NO PEEKING!"

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!"

After you had emerged from your commode and dunked your hands into a bowl full of lily water to cleanse them, you and Shouto set about moving the dresser further from the wall to accommodate both your bodies as you squinted thoughtfully at the letters.  

"They're really hard to make out through the shimmery paint," you grumble, waving a candle around to see if a different light position would make it any easier to read.

It didn't. 

"I think that's the point," Shouto hummed thoughtfully. "They used paint and a dresser to hide the message, so they really didn't want us to discover what's written here."

You both stared at the shimmery wall for a moment longer before inspiration suddenly struck. 

"I have an idea," you said, wobbling away to the other side of the room on stiff legs and returning moments later, the box of drugged chocolates tucked underneath your arm.

"Take one," you instructed Shouto as you pulled the lid off the box; selecting a dark chocolate truffle for yourself.  

"I know things seem bad, but poisoning ourselves isn't the answer. Yet," Shouto added grimly, staring down into the box with a deep frown.  

"I'm not gonna- ugh! Just watch!" You huff, placing your truffle onto the wall and smearing it over the letters with firm strokes. The chocolate transferred easily onto the wall, leaving brown streaks across the pink paint but skipping over the recessed grooves of the letters.  

"Clever," Shouto smirked proudly, a sight that you stared at for longer than was strictly appropriate; permanently etching every last detail of this moment into your memory.

Chocolates in hand, you and Shouto began scribbling across the wall like two poorly supervised toddlers, the message slowly coming into focus as the number of truffles in the box quickly dwindled. The message was much larger than you had originally anticipated and you were a bit worried that you were going to run out of chocolates before the message was fully revealed. But in the end you were left with half a truffle and a bit of doggerel poetry outlined in cocoa:  

A love confession you must tell, 

If you wish to break the bottle's spell.

Sweet nothings alone just will not do,

You're trapped until your words are true.

"Well, I don't know what I was expecting but it certainly wasn't rhyming couplets," you admit, rubbing your sticky hands onto a nearby tufted throw pillow.  

"The bottle," Shouto stated confidently, following your lead and wiping his hands on a decorative curtain. "The one I opened in my office earlier. The poem leads me to believe that we're inside of it."

"I- I suppose that makes sense," you admit, thinking back on the bottle you'd briefly seen. "You opening that bottle is the last thing I remember before waking up here."

"Removing the stopper must have been the trigger for the Quirk that trapped us to activate."

"That's why Ms. Yokubou was so insistent about getting into your office! She knew about the bottle!" You gasped, spinning to face Shouto. He didn't look too surprised by the revelation.

"She knew what the bottle did and likely intended to be here in your place," he nodded somberly. "Ms. Yokubou is definitely the most likely suspect."

"Really?" You scoff incredulously. "'The most likely suspect?' It's blatantly obvious that she's the one behind all of this."

"I took an oath to uphold the presumption of innocence. Ms. Yokubou isn't guilty unless she's proven so in a court of law," Shouto insisted with a sour look on his face, his morals at war with what he knew was true.  

"Well, I didn't take an oath," you informed him proudly, puffing out your chest and resting your hands on your hips. "So I'm free to say that she's a creepy, rotten, low-down, guilty, bitch."

"Yes, you certainly can say that," Shouto grinned brilliantly. You tried to return a smile with similar intensity, but considering how rough you looked in the ceiling mirror after a full day of work and captivity you're positive it's no match for Shouto's natural radiance. But from the small sparkle you saw appear in the corner of his eye, it seemed that Shouto appreciated your efforts just the same.  

"Are your hands starting to tingle?" You ask worriedly, staring down at the sharply prickling skin on your fingers.

"We need to wash the remaining chocolate off.  Now," Shouto ordered, shoving the vase you had rinsed your hands off earlier into your lap; dunking his hands into the water after yours.  

"I wonder what was in those truffles," you mutter in concern as Shouto's fingers worked defly over your skin, doing his best to scrub the chocolate residue off with firm strokes. You tried to return the favor, poking at the back of his hand with your clumsy digits, but it was growing increasingly difficult to will your fingers to bend.  

"Likely just a tranquilizer," Shouto assured you, pulling one of your hands out of the water to check on how clean it was before lowering it back into the vase with a frown. "Whoever put me in here-"

"Ms. Yokubou," you filled in.

"-seems to have wanted me docile, not dead."

You tried to focus on the muted feeling of Shouto's hand on yours instead of the red hot anger roiling in your belly. It was a testament to the strength of your ire that you barely registered Shouto's gentle caresses.  

Shouto had taken it upon himself to push the dresser out of the way so you could more clearly see the poem on the wall from a more comfortable position on the bed. The dresser had tipped in the process, drawers falling open and spilling their contents out across the ground; shiny new dental tools and lacy-edged corsets mixing together in a heap on the carpet. You had thought it had been an accident at first, Shouto simply underestimating his returning strength, but then you had seen the malicious glee spread thickly across his face and understood it had been a calculated act of wanton destruction. He dropped down onto the bed beside you, glaring at the mess he had made on the floor.

"Oops," he said unapologetically, kicking the pile of lingerie with a sneer. In a show of solidarity, you swept your arm across one of the bedside tables, sending an oil diffuser and a copy of the Kama Sutra crashing to the floor.

"Oh nooo," you said flatly, swiping at a teetering wine glass that escaped your first attack. "Clumsy me!"

Shouto's smile was a forced thing, too-fast and insincere compared to his normal grins. You watched as his shoulders slumped, head hanging down towards his chest as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  

"I hate it here," he admits after a long moment of quiet. "I can't stop thinking about what could- what would have been happening to me. And I- I just-"

His foot jostled one of the hooked dental probes laying on the carpet, both your and Shouto's eyes locked onto it as it skittered across the floor and hit the baseboard with a tinny clang.

"We need to get out of here," you swallow thickly, hand blindly reaching out for Shouto's across the bed. He squeezed your fingers too tightly, your joints aching in protest; but you didn't tell him to stop.  

"So, if we're interpreting this poem correctly then Ms. Yokubou-"

"The unconfirmed suspect," Shouto corrected.

"-the suspect intended keep you trapped in here and torture you until you were convinced you loved them."

"That seems to be the case, yes."

"That's so fucking awful, Shouto." 

He didn't respond, staring thoughtfully at the words on the wall with a furrowed brow instead.  

"Ms. Yoku- I mean, whoever did this obviously has some sort of feelings for you, but not really? They want you, but not the actual you," you ranted, the bubble of rage you had kept pushed down inside had finally built up enough pressure that it was spilling out against your will as you stomped around the room. You took a special sort of pleasure in grinding the discarded lilies down into mush with every lap you took.  

"They don't care about what you think or- or feel, they just care that they get what they want, even if it destroys you. I just- I don't understand? How can they believe that they love you when they're so willing to hurt you?" you whispered brokenly, furious and devastated on Shouto's behalf.  

"And I know that is an emotionally charged situation for you, but could you please say something?" You beg, sagging down onto the bed beside him, exhausted from your outburst. "If you don't, I'm pretty sure I'm just going to keep talking until I drive us both crazy. Which, admittedly, doesn't seem like it would be a very long trip at this point-"

"It can't be that simple," Shouto suddenly blurts out, putting an end to your rambling.

"What's not simple? Driving you crazy? Because I have some high school teachers with stories you wouldn't believe."

"No, not that," Shouto said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm talking about the poem."

"What about it?" you asked, squinting at the rhyme inquisitively.

"It says that only a true love confession will break the bottle's spell and, presumably, set us free."

"Yeah, and that's sort of a huge issue? A forced love confession is just coercion," you explain. "You can't create genuine affection like that."

"Exactly," Shouto agreed, "And that would be a problem if the kidnapper was the one stuck in here with me. But instead, by some incredible stroke of luck or karma or kismet; I'm in here with you."

Between your persistent headache, bone-deep exhaustion, and the thick fog of panic blanketing your mind there was no possible way that you were interpreting Shouto's words correctly. 

"What do you mean?" you said, swallowing thickly as you braced your heart for the let down you knew was coming; the walking back of his words, the incredulous laughter once he realized what he was mistakenly insinuating.  

"I had a plan for this," Shouto sighed, a melancholy sort of sound. "There was supposed to be dinner. And music. And flowers. Not lilies, though," he rushed to assure you.  

"Thank goodness. I don't think I ever want to see another lily again for as long as I live."

"Same here," he laughed dryly. "But we would have had a good evening together. Better than this one, at least. And at the end of the night I would take your hand in mine, just like this," Shouto said, cradling your hand between both of his. "And I'd finally tell you what I've been too scared to tell you for weeks now."

"Which is what?" you whisper breathlessly, precariously hanging on his every word by your fingertips; moments away from slipping and plummeting down into something- some feeling that couldn't possibly be real. You weren't that lucky. You weren't that anything, really.  

"I'd tell you the truth," Shouto promised, his eyes shining with a soft sincerity that made your chest ache with longing. "That I am totally, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with you."

You opened your mouth to respond- how exactly, you weren't entirely sure. Cheer, maybe? Cry? Ask him if he was serious? But the actual sound that came out was a prolonged scream as every muscle in your body twisted and burned.  

And then, all you saw was darkness.

You woke up suddenly, contorted into an uncomfortable position on the floor again. But there was one immediately noticeable difference between waking up in the bottle and now, and that was the fact that your limbs were hopelessly tangled up with Shouto's; the two of you twisted together like a fleshy pretzel.  

"We have to stop meeting like this," Shouto smiles down at where your head is pillowed on his chest, his heart thumping quickly beneath your ear.

"Nope, not allowed," you mumble in complaint, trying to push yourself off of his chest. You weren't able to make much protest with how loudly your muscles were protesting, so you just settled back down and tried to ignore how your heart skipped a beat when you felt his arm squeeze you tightly into his side. "I'm the funny one here. You're not allowed to have better one-liners than me."

"Apologies," Shouto said, your body rocking gently along with the quiet laughter that shook his chest. "I did have a bit of time to think of it though. It's taken you a little while to come around."

"You didn't move me?"

"No? Why would I?" Shouto asked, tilting his head to the side easily; obviously less inhibited by the soreness of his muscles than you were.  

"Well, we're out of the bottle now so I thought…" you trailed off uneasily, unsure of what words you could put together to push this conversation along. It wasn't like you really wanted to talk about what happened; to pop the bubble of happiness that was filled to almost bursting inside of your chest. But you knew that the longer you drew it out the harder it would be to face reality; to acknowledge that Shouto discovered a loophole, a convenient lie he could believe just enough to free you both from that bottle.  

Maybe he just loved you like a friend? Or worse, like a sister? Maybe that kind of affection was enough to have met the nebulous requirements for the Quirk to deactivate? The poem didn't have any footnotes that you could see, so maybe it wasn't quite as strict as you and Shouto had theorized. Maybe you could have gotten away with professing your love of Rock and Roll or sleeping in on the weekend?  

You wish you would have experimented a bit more inside of the bottle and maybe saved yourself the devastating experience you were currently thrust into: staring literal heartbreak in the face as you gazed helplessly up at Todoroki Shouto.  

"Thought what?" Shouto asked, the edges of his sweet grin slowly dipping down into the start of a frown.

"Well, we're out of the bottle now. So I don't expect- I won't hold you to anything you said. I know it was to just get us out. So, uh- thank you for that. But you don't have to keep pretending. It's okay," you assure him with a watery smile. You'd never been particularly skilled at lying and were even worse at it when you were emotional, and right now you were feeling very emotional.

But instead of looking relieved like you had expected him to be, Shouto looked positively exasperated; his face creased into a deep scowl.  

"You don't believe that I have feelings for you?"

"Well, I mean, not like you said- not romantically," you explain, panicking internally as his expression grew even more displeased. "Just- like a friend?"

"I see," Shouto huffed. You could practically feel yourself withering under the intensity of his disappointed stare. "Is that how you see me? As just a friend?"

"I mean, we are friends, right?" You laugh nervously, growing increasingly concerned that this conversation might just torpedo your entire relationship into smithereens.  

"Yes, of course. Very good ones I think," Shouto said, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your jaw gently to keep your attention firmly on him. "But is that all we are?"

"I wasn't aware there was any other option," you whisper honestly, your gaze jumping between each of his eyes, trying to see if one color was less intimidating than the other. But both gray and green burned with a deep intensity you couldn't fully comprehend.

"Really?" Shouto deadpanned. "I've been inviting you to stay with me in my office alone, after hours, for months now, and you didn't take that as a hint that I was interested in you?"

"I just thought you wanted some company while you ate," you admit quietly, still staring at Shouto much like a deer caught in a set of headlights. "And that you were like, really bad at crossword puzzles."

Shouto groaned miserably, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back onto the floor with a loud thunk.

"I didn't want just anyone's company," he sighed. "I wanted yours, specifically."

"Oh," you replied, stunned. "Then why didn't you, you know? Ask me out? Let me know that you were interested?"

"I thought about taking a more direct approach," Shouto says, staring up at the ceiling despondently. "But my friends told me it was inappropriate to ask someone out while they're working."

"That's true," you conceded. "So what was your plan then, exactly?" 

"I was trying to make you relaxed enough in my presence where you would feel comfortable asking me out," 

Shouto said, shifting uncomfortably at your incredulous expression.  

"You could have waited one thousand years and I still wouldn't have been able to muster up enough courage to ask you out," you laugh dryly. "But even if your plan had worked, I still signed an employee code of conduct when I started working at Über Munch. I'm not allowed to flirt with customers."

Shouto hummed thoughtfully, tightening his arm around you once more. "I guess maybe it's a good thing we got stuck in that bottle together then, huh?"

"Too soon," you chastised him immediately, eyes wide as you shook your head quickly from side-to-side.

"Right. Of course. Sorry."

Once you were able to move without crying in pain, you and Shouto had reluctantly pried your bodies apart and started acting like responsible adults. Shouto did his official Hero thing and reported your bungled kidnapping attempt to the police while you called in to work.

You'd ended up needing to use one of the Personal Victim Leave days you'd been accruing, which was fine. This was the exact sort of scenario you were supposed to use them for, but you still felt a little bitter because you had been hoping to cash all of them out at the end of the year to pay for holiday gifts for your family.  

The next few hours were a blur of commotion as you were interrogated by so many detectives you were pretty sure they had to be bussing them in from the surrounding precincts just to have the opportunity to interview Shouto. But the attempted kidnapping of a high-profile hero was likely a large enough case to elevate someone's career into the big leagues, so you couldn't fault them for their efforts; as self serving as they likely were.  

Eventually, you and Shouto had been escorted out of his office so they could start photographing the crime scene; officers delivering you down to a line of ambulances waiting to take you to the hospital for an After Quirk Exposure check-up. All you really wanted to do was go home and sleep for a week, but everyone had a story about some second cousin's friend who skipped the routine examinations and ended up turning inside out or something hours later.

Most of those stories were probably urban legends or some sort of Hero Commission propaganda, but either way they made you just wary enough to agree to climb onto the gurney and accept a juice box and pack of cookies from the paramedic without raising a fuss.   

You and Shouto were separated at the hospital, the attending physicians swiveling your gurneys off into separate wings. Shouto was whisked away to the private Hero section of the hospital while you were shuffled into the ER with the rest of the civilians, shoved into a curtained off nook and left to your own devices with a small cup of ice water and a dwindling phone battery.  

It was a testament to your exhaustion that you were able to fall asleep even with the cacophony of sounds from the ER filtering in behind your privacy curtain, waking only when the nurses arrived to wheel you around the hospital for one screening or another.  

You were on your way back from your third exam, some sort of organ scanning thing you had never bothered to learn the name of, when you noticed that the nurse had pushed you past the corridor that led back to your shrouded nook in the emergency department and towards the elevators.

"Am I going for another test?" You asked in confusion, watching as she swiped her key card across a scanner mounted next to the elevator control panel, selecting one of the numerous unmarked buttons after the scanner accepted her ID with a high-pitched beep.

"No, you're all done for now. We're just waiting for final results to come in," the nurse explained, pushing you out of the elevator doors the moment they opened far enough. "It's been requested that you be moved into a room for security reasons."

"I don't understand. Am I in danger-," your query was cut off as you were pushed into your new hospital room where Shouto was awaiting your arrival, neatly tucked into his own hospital bed. You could tell from the overcrowded cluster of monitoring equipment that they had shoved his bed closer to the far wall to make room for your gurney to be positioned next to his.  

"Ah, there you are," Shouto smiled in relief as the nurse engaged the locks on your bed wheels. "Thank you so much for your assistance, Nurse Yamamoto."

The nurse blushed tomato red under Shouto's direct attention, doing her best to hide her burning cheeks behind her clipboard. 

"It- ah, it was nothing. Just um, ring the buzzer if you need anything and I'll be back to check on you in an hour?" She stammered nervously, the end of her sentence pitching up into a questioning tone.

"That sounds perfect. Thank you again," Shouto beamed, flashing his teeth in a wide grin that stunned the poor dear so severely she attempted to exit the room by pushing on a door that had to be pulled to open. You grimaced internally in sympathy for her, knowing full well that she would replay that fumbled exit over in her mind every night before she fell asleep.  

Once the nurse was safely down the hallway, the squeak of her rubber soled shoes far enough away that you knew she wouldn't overhear, you spun to Shouto with a disbelieving look carved deeply into your face. 

"Did you just charm a nurse into letting us be roomies?"

"Please. I didn't just charm a nurse," Shouto scoffed, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. "I also lied a little."

"I can't believe you're this big of a menace," you laugh, flopping back as far as the stiff hospital pillows would allow. "Your PR team must be incredible."

"They better be, for how much I pay them."

You hummed in acknowledgement, looking around his room with a critical eye, noting the immaculate condition of all of the decor and medical equipment, as well as the humongous TV mounted on the wall opposite you; a muted nature documentary flashing across the screen. A large bouquet of blue and yellow flowers were laid next to Shouto's bedside, as well as a carafe of some hot beverage; likely coffee based on the small mountain of tiny creamer tubs stacked up next to it.  

"So there's no actual security risk then?" You mumble quietly, fiddling with the edge of your thin knit blanket, doing your best to swallow down the worried lump in your throat. "No sign of Ms. Yokubou or anything?"

"Nothing yet, I'm afraid," Shouto admitted, his face pinching tight with guilt as he examined your anxiously twisting hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you unnecessarily."

"It's alright. I've just never been someone's potential target before. It's got me feeling sort of jumpy."

"Understandably," Shouto was quick to assure you. "I guess I'm so accustomed to this sort of thing I didn't really stop to think of how scary it might seem to someone less used to it."

Shouto averted his gaze to the TV for a few moments, flipping to the programming guide channel to allow you the illusion of privacy to collect yourself while you discreetly dabbed the tears pricking the corner of your eyes with the edge of your top sheet.  

"So, uh- what was your motivation for moving me in with you then?" You ask, trying to set the conversation back on track after your emotional derailment. "Did you already miss being stuck in a room with me that much?"

"Not quite," Shouto huffed in amusement. "I came to the realization that this was the first time that you and I were both off the clock in the same building. I thought it would be a shame to not make the most of this opportunity to legally fraternize."

"I'm…not sure I'm entirely following your line of thought here," you say, brow furrowed. "You want to what, exactly? Have a date in the hospital?"

"That was my intention, yes," Shouto admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck bashfully. "But hearing you say it out loud makes me realize how silly it sounds."

"No!" You say quickly, shooting up stalk straight in bed, startling you both with the ferocity of your cry. "It's not silly at all! It's kind of sweet, actually. That you can't wait to spend time with me."

"It's just- things are going to get really busy for the both of us now that we're tangled up in a criminal investigation. And I'm not sure when we'll eventually get the chance to be together again," 

"You're right. We should make the best of the time we have together," you nod, rolling onto your side to face Shouto more directly. "And I can say with full confidence that this is the nicest place you've ever taken me. There's a bathroom here and everything!"

"There is!" Shouto laughed excitedly, reaching over to pull the flowers at his bedside into his arms. "And I got these for you, too."

"Really? They're beautiful, thank you," You beam, tugging the collection of blue blossoms into your arms, running a finger softly across a fuzzy green leaf. You notice a card tucked in amongst the blooms and pull it with a quick tug; snorting in amusement at the cartoon stork carrying a blue-bundled baby printed on the front.

"Ughhhhh," Shouto groaned when you showed him the card, scrubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "I asked the gift shop for any bouquet without pink flowers or lillies and this is what they sent. Give it to me and I'll throw it away."

"No!" You cry, pressing the card against your chest away from Shouto's wiggling fingers. "It's mine now, you gave it to me. I'm going to scrapbook it."

"Please don't," he begged, leaning over the rail of his bed to make a closer swipe at the card.

"Or maybe I'll laminate it. Keep it in my wallet for good luck," you muse with a hum. "Would you sign it for me? That would really increase its sentimental value."  

"You want my autograph?" Shouto asked, arm paused mid-grab as he stared at you searchingly- for what, you weren't entirely sure.

"No. I want you to sign the card you gave me," you clarify, pulling the card away from your chest and sliding it into his hand. "That's just good manners."

Shouto pulled his hand back, eyes softer than they were just a moment ago as he opened up the side table drawer and pulled out a hospital issue pen.  

"You're right. I apologize for my oversight," he said, quickly scrawling on the inside of the card with a speed born from years of practice. You snatched the card back from him as soon as he held it out, excited to see the message he wrote.

'Congratulations, it's a boy!  

(The boy is me)

Love, Shouto'

"I'm definitely laminating this," you whisper to yourself, cheeks aching from the force of your smile as you tuck the card safely back into the bouquet and clutch it to your chest protectively.  

"So, what else do you have planned for our date?"

Dinner was up next, not because you were necessarily very hungry with the swarm of nervous butterflies you had fluttering around in your stomach; but because a member of the kitchen staff had let themselves into your room to take your meal requests.  

"You know, I sort of thought by how much fancier the Hero rooms are that you guys would get better food too," you say, spooning another mouthful of the thin vegetable broth into your mouth.

"All the hospital food comes from the same kitchen. The meals for Heroes aren't any better in quality, but we are permitted to have as much as we want," Shouto explained, prying the lid off of a pudding cup and giving it a tentative sniff. You decide to follow his lead and shift your focus to your dessert, a parfait that was mostly yogurt with a bit of granola sprinkled on top.  

"This is actually turning out to be a pretty good date," you say when the TV starts showing a commercial for a local refrigerator repair service.  

"You think so?"

"I do," you assure him. "We've even hit two of the major date features you mentioned before. We're having dinner together and you got me flowers. The only thing missing is the music."

"I can fix that," Shouto says as he reaches for the TV remote and punches in the code for a music channel. A music video starts playing; starring a man with bright green skin wearing sunglasses on the beach, flanked by a line of women in bikinis.

"Girl, I think your Quirk must be Twerkin', because your booty really knows how to work it-," The man sang, slapping the right buttcheek of the dancer closest to him.

"So romantic," you sigh, holding a hand to your chest dramatically.

"I'm changing the channel," Shouto grimaced as the camera panned away from the singer and zoomed in on the background dancer's wobbling butts.

"You can't! 'Twerkin' Quirk' is officially our song now, Shouto!" You laugh in delight, soaking in his misery like sunbeams on the first warm day of Spring.

"Everytime I think something else couldn't possibly go wrong, it does," Shouto lamented, a pained look on his face as they began spraying the bikini dancers with champagne while they gyrated next to a sports car with spinning neon rims.  

"It sure does seem that way," you agree, fishing out the lone blueberry from the bottom of your parfait. "I'm probably going to have to reevaluate my opinion of this date now."

"Has it finally sunk low enough to earn the 'Worst Date Ever' award?" He sulked, flinging the remote down onto the end of his bed irritability.  

"It's definitely cinched the nomination for 'Most Memorable'," you tell him with a smirk, putting your dessert cup down so you could reach across the space between your beds to offer him your hand. The feel of his hand in yours was already a familiar thing; your fingers at home twined together. "But I don't think any date could be bad, so long as you're with me."

"I think you're giving me too much credit, but I'll take it," Shouto grunts softly, deflating down into his pillows to watch the finale of the music video.  

"I'll let you take as much credit as you want so long as you take me on another date."

"Agreed," Shouto replied instantly. "And I promise, it'll be better than this."

"I don't think you'll ever be able to top this," you laugh brightly, heart thumping happily as you bury your nose into your flowers and watch as the singer on screen smears oil across his chest while a confetti cannon fires behind him.  

"But I can't wait to see you try."