#and then I proceeded to spend several months in a state of feeling like I made him uncomfortable

[beeribas]

My friend during a discord call: Hey, how did you know you were polyamorous?

Me, sitting on the call with the man who made me realize I was polyamorous: Uhhhhhh…

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

So I watched/listened to a plot synopsis of ACOTAR out of curiosity and wow. It's obvious SJM thought of a misunderstood bad boy halfway through her Beauty and the Beast retelling and then proceeded to make him *too* bad. As in, "drug and assault you for a month to help you not be traumatized" (really Rhys, was that the *only* way you could have "protected" Feyre? Are you sure?). I see why everyone's angry with how the book ended it's such a mess.

god, yeah. as much as it makes me mad when people skip book one, i totally get skipping book one because it is ABUNDANTLY clear that SJM published it without thinking about literally anything. She spends so much of the rest of the series retconning/reframing events so the guy that she made into a genuinely scary villain in book one is now a fucking saint who builds sanctuaries for battered women in his magic secret city of saints and artists - like, let's ignore the fact that he left a severed head on someone's doorstep as a prank, and the fact that he committed SA, and the fact that he violates peoples' minds/boundaries on the regular.

Like, the most charitable interpretation of Rhysand's actions UtM is that he re-enacted his own sexual abuse on Feyre, because he entered into the pseudo-relationship with Amarantha unwillingly, but believing that it would be the best way to protect himself and his family. The LEAST charitable interpretation of his drugging and assaulting Feyre repeatedly is that he was trying to keep her dazed, constantly in a state of sleep-deprived sickness, struggling to recovery, and thereby prevent her from solving the Super Obvious riddle - because again, he worked for the evil queen willingly. Even if his motivations were "good" he still actively terrorized the rest of the country in the name of protecting the one place and handful of people that Rhysand, personally, deemed most valuable. Like, dude, people DIED. Rhysand later spends a lot of time whining about how NOBODY FOUGHT OR SACRIFICED AS HARD AS HIM..... bro. I don't know how to tell you this but at least two of the other High Lords were running an active rebellion in Book One (the Winter Court confirmed; Rhysand later murders the Winter Court's children - and SJM desperately wants you to forget that this event happened/mattered; the Summer Court was implied to be assisting) and if Rhysand hadn't interfered, Tamlin probably could have used Feyre to break the curse's stupidly complex conditions on his own.

But also!?!? None of this fucking matters, because the canonical actual reason that Rhysand gives for - and I cannot emphasize this enough - DRUGGING AND SEXUALLY HARASSING/ASSAULTING FEYRE, THE GIRL HE CLAIMS TO LOVE MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF, REPEATEDLY - was that he was jealous.

He says this, to Feyre, on the fucking page. Rhysand did not like that Tamlin and Feyre were clearly in love, that their relationship seemed strong, and he wanted to make Tamlin angry and jealous - by hurting Feyre, and using her as an object with which to taunt him.

Rhysand never apologizes for this, by the way. He just gets sad and says that he regrets it, and Feyre feels sorry that she upset him by bringing up her trauma, which he caused. Fucking CHRIST.

And later, according to SJM's narration, I am supposed to revile and condemn Tamlin for getting angry and being upset/traumatized by having witnessed someone he loves he dangled in front of him like a toy by a guy who wants to hurt/kill him and is capable of destroying people's minds!? I'm supposed to be upset when he tries to rescue Feyre from Rhysand later!?!? HELLO!?!? We can talk about Tamlin's character flaws but first of all, he's never sexually assaulted anyone, and second of all, he's against slavery for no reason than because slavery is bad.

No, actually, this is relevant, because Rhysand later tries to "both sides" fucking SLAVERY.

Anyway rant over, fuck ACOMAF especially.

[wasbangtanhome]

late, late, late | KSJ

banner made by bangtanhome! (me)

Summary: Is he late? Yes. Were you mad? Yes. Was it a special day? Yes, yes, yes! You had everything prepared and you just wanted your boyfriend to come home. Now.

Pairing: Office worker!Kim Seokjin x F(Reader) | also kind of dom!Jin

Warning: 18+. Smut in the form of: pwp, provocative dress, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it hehe), oral sex (M receiving), fingering, use of the word "slut", cumming inside, impact play (ass and pussy). also he used the L word.

Word Count: 4.4k

Author's note: Short and sweet to start off my journey here on tumblr!! I hope you enjoy it and to please please let me know about any improvements. I worked really hard on it! Also my first smut fic! Also, also, there are not a lot of pet names ever since I saw the post about what Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, and Jin would call their lover. I got super sappy.

From the kitchen window, you have a clear view of the entrance leading to your apartment that you share with your boyfriend. The sun has set and it's well past dinner time but you have yet to see his face walking up the steps, blowing a kiss at your general direction.

You chew the inside of your cheek. He's late, you thought, peering out the window for the nth time while drying the dishes. You can't help but worry. Seokjin usually calls if he picked up an extra shift, but your phone has yet to move.

Today marks a year of the two of you living together. The year hasn't treated you kindly. A while back, your company had some budget cuts. Your department was abolished and unlike the lucky coworkers that were transferred, you were a part of the handful that received severance pay.

You figured going back to work would be easy, especially with your qualifications. However, you have yet to get a call from any of the places you applied to. With you unable to work, you spend your days maintaining the apartment. Your boyfriend, his smile ever present, told you he would just have to take more shifts.

‘You know, ______, housework is really hard to do,’ he remarked. ‘Besides, I make more than enough money to support us both.’

You smiled at your boyfriend then. It was true, there wasn’t really a need for you to go to work. You eased up on your stress over not finding work and dutifully cleaned the apartment.

You trudged your way to the entrance of the apartment. Head resting on the front door before unlocking it with your key. Seokjin was drinking tea by the window sill, looking as ethereal as ever. He noticed you had entered the apartment, smiling lovingly at you.

Before he had a chance to say hello, you broke the news about what happened during work. Instantly, your boyfriend came towards you, his smile faltering as he saw the state you were in. The fatigue in your bones left you slumped on the ground.

Seokjin did not say a word, opted to close and lock the door behind you before sinking to his knees to meet you at eye level.

‘Hey,’ he murmured softly. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

He nudged your shoulder and you fell to his embrace. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You whimper softly as you seize his dress shirt, hot tears falling on his dress shirt, turning the color a shade darker than it was. Your knuckles turned white as your chest rose and fell rapidly, ragged breathing moaning the loss. And yet, your Seokjin rubbed circles on your back soothingly, hugging you tightly, not saying a word.

‘Sorry,’ you remembered mumbling as the coil in your stomach loosened.

‘Don’t be sorry, _____, there’s no reason for you too,’ he whispered back.

Silence fell before he piped up. ‘What do you call a bike that can’t stand on its own?’ he waggled his eyebrows when you looked at him, confused at what he’s saying. It took you a good moment to know that he was joking.

‘Two-tired!’ he exclaimed, laughing at his own joke. You smiled at your lover and before long, laughed along with him; his joy infecting your sadness.

He took out his handkerchief, wiping the streaks of tears away and giving it to you. At his gesture, you snickered before dissolving once more into tears. He had fretted then, worried that he had done something wrong.

‘I’m so lucky,’ you mumbled in tears. ‘Lucky to have you as my boyfriend, Kim Seokjin.’

He smiled softly at your comment, proceeded to pull you in his lap. ‘So, what do you want to do now?’

‘Easy,’ you sniffled, plastering a smile on your face. ‘We order fried chicken and drink!’

Seokjin had looked at you funny, surprised to hear you crave alcohol. Your smile was infectious and he ruffled your hair to agree. ‘That’s my girl!’ he exclaimed. ‘Let’s find you an even better paying job, okay?’

He was so enthusiastic, making the tragedy that happened to you that day seem so… trivial. You got drunk that night, your body not used to the alcohol.

You smile softly at the memory that happened after, your boyfriend’s hair stuck to his face, panting heavily as you came all over him. You try to push the memory away, focusing instead on your task at hand, but the damage was done- you're wet.

You chew on your bottom lip, hands traveling lower, touching your folds.

I’ll just start without him.Something nagged at your brain, and as your fingers sought out your clit, you realize how unsatisfying it would be without your boyfriend coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you.

You moan, anticipation and desperation threatening to consume you. Distracting yourself, you went through your mental checklist again. Skimpy apron? Check. Food? It’s cold because it’s been in the fridge, but check. The line that you’ve been practicing for the past few months to win over your boyfriend? Check, check, and check.

You glance again and the parking lot was empty now, its residents taking space in their respective homes. No sign of Seokjin.

You huff, grabbing your phone and pressing the on power roughly, almost causing it to clatter on the ground. Almost. Your screen flickers on and you see an image of him smiling back at you. You stuck your tongue out at his face, and punched a string of numbers you know by heart.

The line rang for a long time. You were about to let it go to voicemail. At the last second, you hear a tired voice answer you.

“Darling?” Seokjin’s voice was gruff and sleepy. You can make a mental image of him running a hand through his hair. He sounded distracted, probably looking at his spreadsheets as the numbers start to blur together.

"Hi," you try cheerfully, clearing your throat, hoping he can’t hear the anticipation across the phone. You cradle the device between your ear and your shoulder before brushing lint from your apron. "Are you coming home soon?"

Seokjin looked at his watch, knowing something was clearly bothering you. Looking at the time, he scrambled to his feet: 19:32.

"Wh-Wha--?" came the stunned response. You hear Seokjin push his chair back and the familiar beep of his computer turning off. You laugh quietly as you hear doors slam and his voice echoing in the staircase.

"Oh, _____, I'm so sorry. I had no idea what time it was," he pants, high on adrenaline trying to get home as soon as possible.

"I'm so sorry, ______. I'll be home soon. You can start eating without me, okay?"

You feel a grin paint your face, relief that he was at work. "I'm okay! You must be hungry, love. Just glad you're finally coming home. I can't wait to see you. Drive safe!" you exclaim hurriedly, knowing he won’t want to call when he’s driving.

He murmured a confirmation and you ended the call. Seokjin may be late but there’s still cause for celebration. Settling the butterflies in your stomach, you open the fridge door to take out the food you had prepared earlier, heating them up.

You finally see a familiar figure run from his parking space. His dress shirt untucked and he stopped for only a moment to blow a kiss towards you. His hair clung to his scalp, his tie was loose, and his eyes shining with adoration. You waved back quickly before seeing him disappear into the building.

Seokjin expected you to be angry, ready to apologize for coming home so late. At the very least, he expected a hug, you seemed happy enough, asking how his day was in the office. What he didn’t expect was you in an apron… wearing nothing else. His eyes roamed your body, stunned at the lack of clothes, briefcase dropping heavily on the floor.

"Are you going to close the door?" he heard you ask.

Never taking his eyes off of you, he closed and locked the door, sliding out of his work shoes. Like a deer caught in headlights, you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you approached him.

You hear him gasp as you get closer, his face incredulous. You pressed your chest towards his, relishing in his ears turning red.

"Now,” you smirk and grab a hold of his tie. “Would you like to start with dinner,"-- you croon as you fling it behind you.

"-a bath,” you say seductively as you open the first couple of buttons of his dress shirt. “-or me?" you finish, dress shirt completely unbuttoned as you watch his delicious figure.

You don't often see your boyfriend at a loss for words. But this... this was something else. Seokjin opened and closed his mouth, blinking rapidly. You hid your smile behind closed lips, enjoying the fact you’re making him squirm.

"What did you make for dinner?" he stammered, forcing a chuckle.

You waved at the table. "The works, japchae, fried chicken, corn, kimchi… You know, our favourites."

"Huh..." he managed, swallowing. Seokjin knew how hungry he was when he left the office, but he couldn't seem to focus on the steaming delicacies on the table. He turned his gaze back to you, slowly closing the distance between your lips.

"Good answer," you murmur.

"Didn't know it was a test," he whispered, dipping his head back down, claiming your soft lips once more.

You smiled into the kiss, content that he was finally home. His hands stopped trembling as it snaked lower. One hand circled your waist, the other trailing soft circles on your back. You shivered at his delicate touch, arching your back into his hand to feel more.

Seokjin seemed to understand your signal and lifted you up, making your way through the living room to reach your bed. Once you landed with a soft plop, he continued the kiss. Heat was rising to his cheeks as he fully shrugged his dress shirt off, returning shortly to connect his lips to yours.

"Jin, I can't see... it's too dark in here," you whined, feeling your skin burn where he touched your body.

You did not receive an immediate response from your beloved, only hearing the thud of a belt on the floor and you hoped his pants came off with it.

"I think it's the perfect amount of light to make you squirm," he whispers. You feel the mattress sink with his weight and the heated kiss resumes, your hands flying to tug at his hair with urgency. You start to feel feverish from the kiss, trying desperately to connect your hips to something so you can feel the first waves of pleasure. You’ve been waiting for such a long time.

He smiles at your impatience and starts tweaking your clothed nipple. "Off..." you whined, wanting the apron gone.

Seokjin slipped the shoulder straps down. You arch your back and he untied the ribbon holding everything together easily. He threw it over his shoulder and finally, his large palms directly touched your tits. He sucked on a nipple while his hands were busy, roaming every inch of your body. You moaned underneath him, thrusting your chest upwards to give him more access.

"Mmm..." you sigh as his hand travelled south and pressed onto your clit.

"You're so wet already," he released your nipple, chuckling darkly. "Have you been waiting all day? Did you want to be fucked that badly?"

You winced at his words. He continued circling your clit, waiting patiently for your answer. "Well?"

"Yes, darling," you pant out. "I have been waiting all day for you! Ah- and you were late," you whined pathetically.

He chuckled again, muttering apologies under his breath while he continues to play with your clit, your nipple back in his mouth. You knew you were going to get a real apology after you're done, but this was enough.

You felt his finger enter your pussy, testing out to see how tight you were. Your eyelids fluttered shut as he added another finger, eliciting a moan from you.

"Yeah? You like that?" came the breathy response.

Your head spun as he curled his fingers at the sensitive bundle of nerves. His thumb pressed and circled on your clit, his pace getting faster and his thrusts getting deeper.

"Jin, I'm close," you squeak out, squirming at his unrelenting force. Your high was right there, waiting for your undoing. But your boyfriend had other plans and his thrusts stopped completely before you came.

You whined, your hands tugging at his hair dangerously. Frustration swept overr your face as it turned even more crimson than his ears. "J-Jin..." you grumble weakly, catching your breath. Your cunt squeezed at nothing when he removed his fingers completely.

"Wanted to feel you cum on my dick," was his simple response.

In the fog of your pleasure, you weren't aware of his veiny cock rapidly growing harder, tip already leaking precum. You stared, dazed as he pumped his length. You also had other plans when you moved to the floor.

You licked a stripe down from the tip to the base, earning a hiss from your boyfriend. His eyes fluttering shut when you look up, his cock slowly disappearing into your mouth.

You suck lightly at first, taking care that your teeth don't make contact with his sensitive member and begin bobbing to a rhythm. He groaned as you stuffed your mouth with his cock, hands grabbing fistfuls of your hair.

"Ah- ________, ah-, can I move?" he huffed out, unable to form sentences without groans.

You moaned to signal your affirmation and he used your hair as leverage to pull you closer to the base. You struggled and gagged, feeling so fucking full. You whimper as he held you there, his head falling back with a groan.

Seokjin snapped his hips, thrusting deeper into your throat. The sensation made you moan, tears blurring your vision. He picked up the pace when he saw you, loves the view of you struggling with his cock in your mouth.

He loved to ruin you, would never admit that out loud, but seeing his lover whimper and sob because he was too big made him moan. Seokjin was holding your head in place, letting his hips do all the work. You groaned out, the vibrations on his cock almost sent him over the edge.

You knew he was close. In ragged breaths, he was saying how beautiful you were, how well you were taking his cock, how amazing you felt, and all the sweet nothings you often hear. However, when his thrusts turned messy, an indication that he was close, you shifted backwards and his beautiful cock fell out of your mouth.

"Fuck!" he cursed loudly, careening forward. He held your head in place for balance, not wanting to fall, worried he hurt you somehow. However, he was greeted with a teasing grin. "Payback, love," was all you said smugly.

You knew you shouldn’t have pushed his buttons that way. But you couldn't help it, knowing the wonderful outcome that awaits you.

He growled, anger flaring with every second that passed since you denied his release. "Bed. Now,” he muttered under his breath. You obliged at his command, though you did it slowly, never taking your eyes of him

This side of Seokjin rarely comes out to play. He was always worried he'd hurt you.

‘Yeah, that's the point,’ you snorted, recalling the memory of explaining what you wanted like he was 5.

Even still, this was a welcomed surprise. You made a mental note of how you pushed his buttons that day, hoping to recreate it in future events.

You were about to sit on the bed when you turned around, climbing on all fours instead, excited about what he would do to you.

“That’s not what I asked you to do, slut” he chuckled, waiting for you to get settled. You teased your ass, moving it closer towards his dick before pulling back.

You didn't anticipate the first slap, the sound of his palm hitting your skin filling the room. You moaned, wiggling your ass towards his face, eyes shining bright with lust.

"Ah- you like being spanked, huh?” Seokjin said, scratching his chin. “Who knew you'd this much of a slut."

You moaned at the word, loving when he said such mean things to you. Your knees buckled when the next smack wasn’t on your ass. He clicked his tongue as he watched your juices flow out from having your cunt smacked. Seokjin reached gingerly towards your clit, teasing it to ease the pain.

"Oh?" he said simply before smacking you again, this time back at your ass. He alternated between slapping your ass and your sopping cunt, the uncertainty of where the next pain would land causing you to see stars.

You whimpered and whined underneath him. Fully lying on your stomach, your ass no longer in the air. You held a pillow, moaning into it, praying the neighbors wouldn't complain about the noise. "J-Jin... please fuck me."

"Huh, I didn’t know this one could beg," he chuckled. The thought of him being with another slut left a twinge in your chest, but that jealousy subsided when he slapped you hard this time, snapping your mind from your thoughts. There was some shuffling behind you and you felt the tip of his cock on your entrance, Seokjin coating his erection with your juices.

"Shit- it's so slippery..." he said mockingly, "slipping" past your cunt. "I can't seem to get it in."

His teasing left you desperate, clinging so hard on to the pillow that your knuckles started to turn white. And just as you felt the anticipation was too much, Seokjin thrusted into you fully, his girth entering you all at once, not caring that you usually needed time to adjust to his cock.

Seokjin dragged you closer towards him, your legs off the bed. He held your neck down with his arm and thrusted hard into your cunt. Before long, you begged silently as your high approaches, hoping that this time your boyfriend would let you cum.

"Baby, I- I'm close."

"Are you now, sweetheart?" You nodded and whimpered at his question. Your voice was getting higher, moans filling your small bedroom.

And he stopped again.

You buried your face in the pillow to scream. You were so agonizingly close and he denied you just like that. Tears fall out of your eyes now, you hiccup and sob, glaring daggers at him.

Normal Seokjin would've scooped you into his arms, a myriad of apologies would spill from his mouth.

But not this time. Instead, he grabbed your hips with his muscular arms before flipping you over so you lay flat on the bed. His cock went back inside, thrusting slowly while he spun circles on your sensitive folds.

"Please-" You breathe in deep, trying to stabilize your hiccups.

"One more for me?" he asked. His voice low and husky.

You start shaking your head, pleading, no- you couldn’t do it again. You were begging him to let you cum. He continued his shallow thrusts and his attention on your clit. You sigh underneath him, overstimulated beyond belief.

"One more," he insisted and leaned close to your ear. "For one whole year of living together." He nibbled on the shell before moving down to your neck. "Please?" You moan when he sucked on the delicate flesh.

You melted into his embrace and nod. "One more."

Perhaps you should've considered longer. Perhaps it was your lust-addled brain that made you say yes. Perhaps you should not have fallen for his devilish charm. But it’s all too late now as he lay on the bed, and you climbed over him.

"Mmph..." you moan, throwing your head back while you grind your pussy on his cock. You snuck a glance below only to find seeing your boyfriend drowning in pleasure.

You leaned forward and bumped your forehead with his. Seokjin's eyes open gently. He pants quietly as he cups your face, gently stroking it with his thumb. An angelic smile spreads upon his face, love and affection in his eyes. You whined as you continue riding him, trying to chase your own high while helping him with his, picking up the pace.

You were still moving a bit too slowly for his liking so he thrusted his hips to match your movements. It sent shivers down your spine and you moan deliciously.

"Baby, I can't- ah- Jin..." you pant, bouncing and grinding on his cock, just then realizing how close you actually were. You expected the stop, but it didn't make it any easier. Your boyfriend stopped his movements and held your hips firm, causing your body to convulse.

Seokjin sat up quickly, hugging and kissing your face profusely. "You did such a good job, ______." he said, his apologies in the form of kisses. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You were so pretty bouncing on my cock like that."

You sigh and smiled weakly at him, "Can I rest?" you asked meekly.

You hear him genuinely laugh. His friends always said that his laugh sounded like windshield wipers. But to you, it sounded like wind chimes dancing in the summer.

Seokjin grabbed you and laid you down on the bed gently. He turned to his side and stroked your hair. You faced him, a content smile on your face as you also stroke his cheek.

"I love you."

The sudden confession made you halt. You knew Seokjin meant it. However, he does not say I love you very often. He shows his love with physical touch and "have you eaten?" questions that make you feel so happy he cared. But hearing him say he loved you almost made you cry. Almost. You had enough tears for the day.

"I love you too, darling."

You scoot closer to kiss him, tongue asking permission to enter. He groans when they collide. Your spare hand moved down and stroked his softening cock gently but he sprung up instantly.

"I kinda blue-balled you, sorry," you broke the kiss sheepishly. Seokjin just chuckled and continued the kiss, moving on top of you.

“Are you okay for more?” he asked, back to his usual self.

You nodded enthusiastically.

His cock slid in effortlessly, your pussy already wet and stretched out enough to take him in without any discomfort. Pleasure caused your body to groan. You wanted so badly to come.

He held up both your legs and toyed with your clit. He was able to thrust easily into you. He started out slow, making sure that you were actually okay before it turned manic, his cock going in and out of you with such force.

You whined when his thumb pushed harder on your clit, feeling your walls clench at his huge dick.

His cock going deeper and deeper inside you combined with him touching your clit was all it took. You were suddenly right there, at the edge of pleasure before you snap. You yell his name, your voice getting increasingly higher. You look at him with desperate eyes.

"Cum on my cock, ____," he groaned, marveling at how tight you were getting.

He kept the pace and soon, you were moaning his name, your juices creaming his cock. You loved being filled. You were so full as your walls clenched around him.

A few more hard thrusts and he joined you in pleasure. "Ah- _____," he moaned out as your walls were painted white. You winced when you thought Seokjin was going to fall on top of you, though he caught himself at the last second.

He slid out of you with a hiss and ran to get a towel to clean you up. After he was done, the towel was placed in the laundry basket, along with all the clothes that were discarded from the floor. You roll your eyes, knowing how neat your boyfriend was.

He plopped right next to you and you cuddled closer, throwing an arm over his muscled abdomen.

"Hi," he sighed out in bliss, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear. "Happy one year anniversary of living together, my dear."

His head dipped towards your and you both nuzzle your nose at each other. "Happy one year, Jin."

"So," he started, clearing his throat. "I can tell you liked getting spanked. Push my buttons some more and maybe it'll happen more often," he laughed at his own comment., waggling his eyebrows at your direction.

This time, it was you who were at a loss for words. You shook your head, rolling your eyes before snuggling so close to him. You found the perfect spot on his chest, as always, pulling the blankets towards the both of you.

He removed himself from underneath you and stared seriously into your eyes. "I know I don't say it enough,"-- you smiled as you notice his ears turning red again-- "but I meant what I said. I do, love you, ____." He held your gaze and you found the strength to sit up slightly to kiss him.

"I know, Jin. This was enough. You are enough."

You've never seen him so giddy and he kissed your forehead again, finally settling down.

"Good night, Kim Seokjin. I’ll clean the food in the morning," you say drowsily.

"Don’t worry, let me get it. Good night, soon-to-be Kim _____," he whispered. You heard the comment but you were tired to ask what he meant. In the morning, you thought to yourself. I'll deal with that in the morning.

When you finally slept, soft snores filling the room, Seokjin got up, carefully detangling him from your arms. You protest slightly but rolled over, not waking up. He padded softly to the kitchen to put the food away. Washing his hands, he looked to the bedroom once more to make sure you were indeed asleep, before opening his briefcase.

Inside, there was a small blue box and Seokjin opened it gingerly, fearing the worst. He sighed in relief as the band reflected a light coming from outside, still intact even though he dropped it earlier. He closed the small box and placed it back in his briefcase.

Seokjin came back to the room to find you had gotten up, hands rubbing your eyes. “Where did you go?”

“Bathroom and grabbed a glass of water,” he lied casually, praying that you didn’t see anything, his heart hammering in his chest.

You mumbled something and he sighed in relief, putting on a pair of boxers before snuggling you close, kissing your forehead.

All characters depicted in this fic are 18+ and fictional.

Any resemblance is just a work of fiction.

All rights © bangtanhome.tumblr.com

Posted on 04.13.2021 at 11:11am GMT+7.

[the-ghost-king]

Schizophrenic Nico, here's why I think it's possible:

I want to start off by saying these are just my thoughts, there is no one way to be schizophrenic or to have schizophrenia. It's also important to note that many of the schizophrenic symptoms overlap with other mental illnesses/nuerodivergences like ADHD, Autism, Depression, and OCD which I know many people who head canon Nico as having. I'm not arguing schizophrenic Nico is more correct, more canon, or more right, but to explain some thoughts on why I think it's possible/very likely he does so I can use this for future reference in various thing.

I am using the term schizophrenia as a catchall for all "types" of schizophrenia, but not for schizoaffective disorder which I would say Nico probably doesn't have.

Children born in the winter/those who were "sickly" as babies are more likely to develop schizophrenia. It may also be possible if your mother was sick while pregnant with you, or having a father who was significantly older when he had you.

A stressful life, especially trauma, are more likely to develop schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder. It likely has something to do with excessive dopamine production, but it may also have something to do with the same genes that control the sleep-wake cycle. Schizophrenia is more common with other mental illnesses or with other nuerodivergences or developmental delays.

Common symptoms include:

Hallucinations

Delusions

Disorganized thinking

lack of motivation

slow movement

change in sleep patterns

poor grooming or hygiene

changes in body language and emotions

less interest in social activities

Now what does this mean for Nico, and why do I think it's likely he has Schizophrenia?

Let's start with Nico's childhood, "children born in the winter/those who were "sickly" as babies are more likely to develop schizophrenia". Although Rick proposed two birthdays for Nico, the fandom generally accepted the January date more fully. We also know that Nico is described as small when he was younger, smallness is common in children who grow up sickly, but it is also common in children who's mother was ill while pregnant with them. We obviously don't know if Nico was sick as a kid, or if Maria was sick while pregnant with him, but again being born in the winter makes these things more likely, as well as consideration for the time period Nico grew up in and the larger variety of illnesses going around at the time. (He is vaccinated against some things though).

Trauma and Nico... do I really have to go into super detail on this one? He spent his childhood growing up in a fascist country that was extremely racist/anti-Semitic/homophobic/etc, his mom died when he was a child- in front of him, his father intentionally gave him amnesia, his sister died when he was a child, he then proceeded to become homeless living/spending lots of time with Minos who verbally (and possibly physically) abused him, becoming aware of his past memories, becoming aware of the fact that many people hated him because of his father and because they thought he was joining the other side (therefore, he was "bad"), he fought in many battles as a child, fought monsters alone, was often faced with life or death situations, went to Tartarus alone (where the goddess of misery told him he was "perfect"), was trapped in a hostage situation with little/no air for a long time while people debated whether or not to save him, was outed against his will, was freed only to travel again fighting monsters and then win a battle, was eventually made to quest with Apollo despite still having lots of healing to do in ToN. So stressful life? Fuck yeah, that doesn't being to cover it.

Genetic factors, obviously nothing here is confirmed so I'm speculating a little bit again, but the common idea in regards to Hades children through the series is that they are "bad". Mental illnesses have been stigmatized for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and often mentally ill people were made out to be weird/bad/etc. It's more than possible there is some sort of genetic factor taking place, also "having a father who was significantly older when he had you". Although I doubt godly genes work the same as mortal ones (trust me I have lots of thoughts on how god genetics/DNA work, but that's not the point right now), I think Hades being the oldest out of all his brothers and having a reputation for having "questionable" children says something... We have no information on Maria's family history at all.

As for schizophrenia often occurring with other mental illnesses and/or neurodivergences: Nico canonically is implied to have either ADHD and/or Autism, and is canonically stated to have PTSD. I think most people would agree that saying Nico has or has had depression isn't a stretch in the slightest.

So canonically we can all agree Nico has severe trauma and coinciding mental health issues/neurodivergences, so out of 4 possible issues I’ve first presented we guaranteeably have two. If I wanted to stretch this a little I would give myself a half point for him being born in the winter and a half point for the aspect of Hades genetics but I won’t do that.

On top of that schizophrenia usually appears during teenage and young adult years in people who receive diagnosis; most people live with mental illness for a few months or a few years in some cases before they're able to receive a diagnosis. Nico being 15 (16 by the end of ToN/shortly following the end of ToN) is about the age that schizophrenia would start to make an appearance. It's also more likely to be found in men, with men also noticing the appearance of schizophrenia appearing early in their lives, and experiencing more negative symptoms in comparison to the higher commonality of affective symptoms in women. That's a really complicated explanation to basically say there's 3 more things that would make Nico having schizophrenia make more sense.

Alright, let’s go back to the list of symptoms I provided:

Hallucinations

Delusions

Disorganized thinking

lack of motivation

slow movement

change in sleep patterns

poor grooming or hygiene

changes in body language and emotions/behavior

less interest in social activities

Once again, some of these are not solely related to schizophrenia and can be the result of other mental health issues, I’m just going to go down the list and add in some moments from the books in which Nico shows some of these traits/behaviors.

Delusions/Hallucinations (more later)

Our best chances for understanding Nico's thought process is in Blood of Olympus where he has a P.O.V... Sometimes Nico's thoughts do derail, or sometimes they get a little confusing, but not always, and when talking to others he is consistent and aware of what he's saying, as well as blunt. Anything "off" about his thought patterns to me just seems like ADHD..

Dietary changes (whether or not you think he has an eating disorder) are behavioral changes (I personally think Nico has AFRID)

Within House of Hades Nico's poor sleep patterns are constantly referenced, and I'll give him a pass on poor hygiene because he's in the middle of a quest but still..

I have extremely complicated feelings on what Will says here, it's possible Nico is an extremely unreliable narrator (unlikely, it seems many people are bothered by him and only maybe a handful aren't), I've also thought at many points this was Rick trying to backtrack some stuff with Nico because he realized he'd made his story a little too harsh for a kids book, it could also be Will's trauma kicking in and that happening... I'm not counting it as full proof about Nico disliking social interactions, but Nico does try to leave even after this conversation and isn't convinced to stay until the last chapter, so maybe there's something to be said about people's dislike of him for being a Hades kid- but I think it's fair to say Nico also dislikes people at least some because he doesn't have interest in trying to befriend anyone either, and is quick to assume all people dislike him (paranoia/low self esteem/and some other possible stuff). There's lots of discussions to be had about this quote and other similar ones, and I don't think a broad brush approach of "Nico good everyone else bad" is accurate it's more, "Nico is good but he fails to try and you have to work on your own mental health everyone won just go to you, and also people dislike Nico for silly reasons and need to get over themselves and make an effort too". (I'm extremely oversimplifying my thoughts and feelings to keep it brief.)

More on delusions and hallucinations:

Now I want to state that lots of schizophrenia symptoms share a lot of commonalities with ADHD and with depression, so although I might include some moments you think are just ADHD/depression I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with you but they could also be schizophrenia or coexisting mental health issues/divergences. I also went through the DSM-5 for schizophrenia (the DSM-5 is just this big book with lists and it’s how doctors diagnose any mental health issue/divergence), I also looked through the DSM-IV (an older book from before DSM-5 which is no longer really used) and the differences between the diagnosis was fairly minimal but they quit categorizing types of schizophrenia and instead rely more on a couple of word descriptions that seem more in line with a spectrum rather than a checkable box.

In order to receive a schizophrenia diagnosis, two (or more) of the following, each present for a significant portion of time during a 1-month period (or less if successfully treated), and at least one of these symptoms must be (1), (2), or (3):

Delusions

Hallucinations

Disorganized speech (frequent derailment or incoherence)

Grossly disorganized or catatonic behavior

Negative symptoms (i.e., diminished emotional expression or avolition).

It’s important to note that only one of these need to be checked off/true if the patient has voices which narrate their actions/behaviors/thoughts or if the person has more than one voice conversing with each other.

Nico deals with auditory hallucinations (2), he believes the voice belongs to Bob, his titan friend he left in Tartarus:

However this isn’t and immediate diagnosis because Bob’s voice doesn’t talk to another voice(s) in Nico’s head, and we don’t know if Nico has voices running commentary on his behaviors/thoughts.

The reason I state we are unaware if Nico has commentary isn’t because Nico hasn’t said anything, but because many people with schizophrenia before their diagnosis believe the narrative voices are just their thoughts and are a normal internal monologue- usually patients don’t realize anything is wrong until the voices start providing commentary on their actions so instead of “washing the dishes now” the voice(s) might say “wash the dishes now, you’re so lazy you can’t do anything, idiot” during a period of psychosis which may help them acknowledge that the voice(s) isn’t the way most people experience internal voice(s). It is very possible Nico is unaware he is experiencing narrative thoughts and simply assumes that his experience is something most people have, but I won’t use this to argue my point because it’s not confirmation of anything.

Returning now to Bob, Nico knows he is hearing Bob’s voice but he believes Bob is calling to him from Tartarus. Now, Nico says the voices are calling to him from Tartarus but there’s no confirmation of this anywhere… What I think is happening is Nico has a guilty conscience. He feels bad for “using” Bob to get out of Tartarus and various other things, so he feels bad that he is still down there. However, we don’t really know if Bob is calling to him or if Bob is able to do that- what I personally think is happening here is Nico’s brain is convincing Nico that Bob needs him because Nico is upset with himself for not helping Bob more, but also because Nico has never “sat still” before without a quest. Nico has also always felt the want to be needed/important...

It very well could be a delusion.

Schizophrenic patients often experience delusions which make them think they are destined for greatness, or that they have some divine/high force calling out to them for help that only they can provide. It’s an extremely common thing in individuals who experience delusions, and is in fact one of the most common delusions experienced. So although Bob could really be calling out to Nico, I don’t think he is, it doesn’t entirely make sense and there’s lots of little things which point to it being not entirely real- like the fact that nobody else knows about it? Or how absolutely sure Nico is that he need to return to Tartarus? It seems like a mixture of PTSD, delusions, and trauma response (returning to the trauma), working against him. I’ll say delusion is very likely (1).

Using these two factors alone there’s sufficient evidence for diagnosis, but let’s keep going just to see.

For disorganized speech (3) this isn’t something Nico seems to struggle with, and even if he did “derailing” could be ADHD or Autism, so I don’t think this symptom pertains to him.

Changes in behavior (4), seem to all be explainable via depression and/or PTSD- he has begun to express emotion again in Tower of Nero upon learning of Jason’s death he is said to be upset by Will and he walks off to be alone, seems like depression to me. Emotional/Behavior changes from schizophrenia tend to relate more to bipolar disorder rather than a depressive disorder, so I would say if Nico has schizophrenia he probably doesn’t have emotional or behavioral changes from it. If he did he might have some catatonic behavior, but this seems to be clearing up some in Tower of Nero so I’m not super sure on that, maybe during bad periods of psychosis behavioral changes occur, but I would lean more towards this isn’t a symptom Nico personally deals with. Negative symptoms (5) tie into this same idea, it’s possible it’s schizophrenia, but it’s more likely PTSD or depression at work.

So why do I care so much about the possibility of Nico being schizophrenic?

I feel like canonically/fanonically making Nico schizophrenic does a few things, firstly schizophrenic rep in media is extremely extremely awful- can you think off the top of your head of a schizophrenic character who isn't from a horror film/a murder/a villain in their own story? Maybe, but personally I can only think of one which is Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower- and even then? That's not canon, it's only implied- and it might not even be true

Schizophrenic media representation always paints schizophrenic people as bad, scary, and evil, and although the horror genre is extremely well known for being super ableist, transphobic, racist, homophobic, and misogynistic (just the final cherry on top) having one of the first- if not the first openly confirmed schizophrenic characters in children's media not only be someone who has lots of character development, and isn't a stereotype, but also be someone people have grown up with, cared for, and sympathized with- would be extremely monumental.

People with schizophrenia and other related disorders aren't something to be scared of or to think of as bad, and often times they're more bothered by whatever they're experiencing than you are.

I don't have schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder or anything like that, but I have various undiagnosed mental health issues which often lead to me questioning reality, or having to set aside time to convince myself that no there isn't a man living in my wall... Having a character have to question those things, work through those feelings, and learn to trust themselves and care for themselves even with those difficulties would be really great to see in media, not just for people with schizophrenia but also for people with similar/related disorders who might share symptoms see parts of their own struggles in a good, educative way.

I have to finish this in two parts because tumblr keeps breaking because there's too many words in my post lmao (2nd part here)

[baepsaesbae]

Do You Love Me, Baby?

Pairing— Any member x female reader    

Genre— SMUT, established relationship, BTS’ pov, a hint of fluff if you squint and close one eye

Warnings— Dom!BTS, sub!reader, face fucking, oral sex (m and f), mild bondage, explicit rough unprotected sex please stay safe irl, choking

Word Count— ~2.8k  

Summary— A member of your choosing can’t wait to reunite with you again after being separated for so long.

A/N— This is different from what I normally post. This fic is in FIRST PERSON from the pov of a member of your choosing. Honestly, it doesn’t even have to be a BTS member, it can be anyone you want (but bc this is a BTS writing blog, that’s how I’m describing it for simplicity’s sake). Please let me know what you think! Much love guys~

It has been three months. Three excruciating months of torment.

 In three months, I have not smelled or tasted an ounce of sweet heaven-sent pussy. Nevertheless, here I am. My girlfriend dropped me off at the airport 3 months ago and each day since has been filled with daydreams of making her irresponsibly scream and moan into my ear. A revolution has taken place in my mind. I have come to the realization that this pussy is the one that will take me to the end game. Little by little I scratch and claw back to my sanity. Lick by lick, thrust by thrust, my dreams show me how much I yearn for my baby’s pussy. Until one day I had enough, and I would take no more. I finally cleared my schedule to spend time with my babygirl. I only had one objective: fucking my girlfriend senseless. The time was nearing.

See, the fun part of my relationship is that we both share the same goal. We want to pleasure each other in any way possible. This allows for more opportunities in a lot of situations. A party where everyone is outside? Easy quickie in the restroom. A family party in the house? Easy quickie in the restroom. A hotel room with insulated walls? Easy repeated thrusts into the dome of her clit while my dick rims the outside of her pussy. Regardless, I am having rough sex with my bratty babygirl.

Would you look at that, I just checked into a hotel room with insulated walls nothing but about five minutes away from her house. I had no other plans.

“Hey baby, I’m here,” I texted.

“Ohh?” she texted back.

“I can come pick you up,” I offered.

“No! I’ll just meet you there” she refuted.

My baby wanted to make sure she was ready; she knew what she was getting herself into.

“Give me 10 minutes,” she followed up

I took those ten minutes to do push-ups and sit-ups to make sure my body was in pristine shape for her. Then the time finally came.

“Baby !! I’m here!” she messaged.

I rushed to the elevator pressing the button as fast as could. I was tapping my foot as the elevator slowly sunk its way down to the bottom floor. She was sitting outside of the back entrance of the hotel waiting for me to open the door. I met her with the biggest hug followed by a sincere kiss on her soft lips. That initial kiss sent me into a remedial state of recollecting all those nights we shared. Never in my life did I think I would be so in love, yet I stood there, shocked.

“Baby… do you want to go back to your room?” she brought me back to reality.

“Let’s go,” I responded, taking her hand in mine.

Both of us were wound up, ready to release our hormonal excitement onto each other, but we both acted like nothing was any different. As if we’ve been seeing each other every day.

“How have you been?” I asked.

“I’ve been good, you?” she answered quickly.

“Oh, you know just chillin,” I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Ah...” her voice trailed off.

I was standing there edging and riding the thin line of sanity looking at the hottest woman on earth positioning herself next to me. The only thing holding us back was this elevator, until I became aware of that. I rushed to meet her next word with my lips and pinned her against the elevator wall. I quickly checked to see if there was a camera in the elevator, but to our luck there was not. I began running one of my hands through her hair, while the other got a firm grip onto one of her big bountiful butt cheeks. We had a long way to go up to the fiftieth floor, and I wanted to use every ounce of time I had. My hand slowly rode down breaking into her slit, she looked at me deep into my eyes and nodded to keep going. I placed my left index finger onto her clit and began rubbing. She kept removing her lips from mine to brace for the impact on each pass-over.

“Baby, let’s go to the room,” she said impatiently as we got to my floor.

We sped out of the elevator, jogging our minds to figure out whether to go left or right. Time was of essence, every second we wasted was a second in which I was not inside of her. Even through our horny daze we chose the correct direction. I found myself at my door swiping with haste, only to find patience as my true virtue. After the fifth time and finally slowing down the door unlocked.

The immediate second the door slammed shut I proceeded to slam her against that same door and put my hand down her pants again. Slowly rubbing against her clit, I made her jolt in a random direction with each circle. She pushed me off.

“Get onto the bed,” she winked.

She walked into the bathroom while I laid myself onto the bed ready to be led astray. She walked out wearing nothing but a lacy lingerie set she had been saving for me. She slowly toppled me with a daring intent in her eyes. I brought both of my hands to land firmly on the cheeks behind her body. She moaned with excitement.

“Come here,” I growled as I wrapped my arms around her back and brought her lips closer to mine.

I missed her. I missed her soft voice comforting me when I felt the loneliest. I missed her wet pussy wrapped around my cock. But how could I miss her when she was right here on top of me? I dug my face into her chest giving attention to each nipple. She let out small yelps when I licked them the right way, and I continued to do so over and over. I moved my hands lower and lower until I reached her slit once again. I ran my right hand under her lingerie to dig into her wet pussy, reminding me of how much she wanted me. This only invigorated me to seize the moment and take action. I grabbed her by the waist and used my strength to pull myself up and over placing myself on top.

“Did you miss me baby?” I questioned.

“Yes, of course,” she mewled.

I began to place my lips on her neck as she responded. I kissed every inch until I started to slowly run my tongue across the side of her neck.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?”  I playfully bit her ear and whispered.

I gradually kissed my way down to her breasts to bring attention to them again. I love playing with her breasts. She sometimes gets self conscious of them, but they bring me joy, especially when they’re right in front of my face. All the while, I’m bringing my right hand down in between her legs to scout ahead. I feel a waterfall pour onto my finger and realize my descent was about to begin. Inch by inch my lips walk downwards to find themselves in between her legs and I halt.

“Look at me,” I demanded.

She never liked looking at me when I went down on her, but I wanted her to. As of lately I would wait for her to make eye contact with me to begin putting my tongue on her juicy slit. She had no other choice, if she wanted to go forward, she had to obey. I slid the lingerie over enough to expose her to me. She looked me in the eyes and I ran my tongue up her lips. I would stop each time she would look away, forcing her to heed to my wishes. I landed my tongue onto her clit and repeatedly flicked my way into hearing her whimper in enjoyment. The cards were dealt, there was nothing she could do. She was playing into my hand, and that’s how it would be. I quickly began rubbing my left index finger against her lips while I ate her clit out. Soon I inserted my finger rubbing against her top wall causing her moan. I dug further and curved my finger upwards to push against the reverse side of her clit causing her to escalate her moans. She became wet enough to allow me to insert my middle finger and continue to press up against her clit.

They say three is the magic number, and three fingers is all my baby needs. Once my fingers were drenched in her juice I slammed three of my fingers into her with the intention of finishing her off. I began to thrust my hand upwards and outwards to hone in on her g-spot while I slid my tongue directly on her clit with aggression.

“Go faster,” she fit in between her breaths.

I jammed my fingers faster and faster pushing her to her limits while she screamed and yelled, “Keep going baby!”

Over and over.

“Fuck!”

Over and over, faster and faster.

“Fuck baby, don’t stop!”

Each motion pushed more of the consequences onto the bed sheets, but nothing was going to stop me from finishing her. I slid my tongue up and down her clit while I struck her g-spot with rhythmic precision gradually increasing the speed. Increasing the severity of the moans, increasing the decibels in the room, increasing the intensity of her orgasm until she came crashing down all over my hand. She was shaking.

She had not had enough, she craved more. She wanted more of me, she wanted all of me inside of her.

“Baby, I want you to fuck me.”

I have been waiting for this. I ripped my pants off and began stroking my hard-throbbing cock against her clit.

“Why are you teasing me,” she said in a bratty tone.

“Beg,” I said. “Beg.”

“Hmph,” she whimpered.

“Beg,” I held my ground.

“Baaaaby,” she panted in a bratty tone once again.

“Beg for me baby,” I instructed softly while still teasing her entrance.

“Fuck me baby, I want all of you inside of me, please!”

I put the tip right on her opening and looked my baby in the eyes. I slowly add weight into the stroke and place the head of my cock inside of her trembling pussy arriving at the feeling of bliss and serenity. The moment that I have been waiting for. The soft plush alluring walls that tempt and mock me. I push forward and her inner walls and my cock meet as if two old friends catch up on forgotten memories. Forward and inward, my room receives a welcoming moan from me. I take this time to lean in.

“I love you baby.”

She was too caught up in my soft deep strokes to respond. I pushed her legs as far outwards as her flexibility would allow and gained grip on my feet like dropping an anchor. I proceeded to pound my dick downwards producing sloppy wet noises from her pussy.

“Do you love me?”

She was too preoccupied with trying to think straight to be able to respond. So, I took a hand off one of her legs and started rubbing my thumb on her clit as a punishment.

“Baby, do you love me?”

Still no response. Only whimpers.

I removed the other hand from her leg and gently placed it around her throat.  I continued to synchronize my thrusts with the motion of my thumb. I got close to her face.

“Baby, do you love me?” I repeated.

I was not going to give her a chance to respond until I felt like she deserved it. Each thrust prevented her from answering my question. I used this opportunity to punish her again. I slowly removed my cock from her while pushing her arms into the bed and bringing my body forward onto her.

“Let me give you a reason not to speak.”

I brought my cock up to her lips and she opened her mouth like the good girl that she was. I pushed myself down her throat. She couldn’t take all of me. Yet, I pushed myself further and further through her wet mouth still asking the question.

“Do you love me, baby?”

Knowing well that she could not respond, I still wanted to punish her. I reached over to my drawer and grabbed a red ribbon. I flipped my baby over and tied her hands behind her back. I then took my cock and eased in from behind her. This was her favorite position and she was about to be reminded why. I railed her with furious strokes causing a mess to spew all over the bed, but nothing was going to stop me.

“Fuck baby fuck,” she yelled.

I kept pivoting my dick further down into her wall causing both parties to get dangerously drenched. She screamed and yelled louder and for more to hear.

“Oh my fuck, keep going!”

I grabbed her by her tied up hands and pulled her closer. I used my other hand to wrap around her throat and fucked her as hard as I could.

“Baby right there! Don’t stop!”

I was not going to stop.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

I slammed her head back down onto the bed and used my arms to push her shoulders deep into the mattress. Each pulverization sent a shockwave through her ass cheeks, ricocheting back to me only to meet the next crushing blow. Incomprehensible sounds came muffled from her mouth as it was dug into the sheets. More and more liquid came splashing out onto the bed. More and more screams would grace my ear like soothing music. Our moans were our duet, and this bed was our stage. We had been putting on a spectacular piece, but she was the star of the show. I laid every inch of myself into her at a decelerating pace. Her whole body began quivering on my cock as she released herself all over me. She became numb as I slowly eased her off her orgasm and fell flat onto the bed. With whatever strength she had left.

“Your turn. Lay down baby,” she commanded.

I did what she asked but she was still tied. From under her, I grabbed her by the ponytail I made with my hands and slowly pushed her head down onto my dick. Up and down, up and down, as she gagged and choked on me.

“Baby, can I cum in your mouth?” I pleaded.

“Mhm” she mumbled with me inside of her throat.

I relentlessly push her deep down on my cock with rapid succession forcing her saliva to spread over every inch. I wanted something that I still hadn’t gotten. I pulled her head off my cock.

“Do you love me baby?” I asked one last time.

“I love you, darling” she said while trying to catch her breath.

I then threw her head back onto my tip and unrelentingly thrust my cock into her mouth until I came down her wet throat. I pulled her hair back to make her look at me while she swallowed my seed. I took my hand off her head, but she continued to stroke my dick with her lips and ran her tongue around my head trying to tease me. When she was done I got up, untied her, and pulled her close to give her a big kiss.

       She is the love of my life, she makes me happy, and she loves me to death. She laid her head on my chest and I began to stroke her hair. We started to share our adventures from the past three months filled with laughter and smiles from ear to ear. I couldn’t help myself but to think “I’m going to marry this woman one day.”

Published February 26th, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

[eyoricka]

Secret dating - Pete Davidson x singer!reader

First thing, I am sorry for my rather long absence I was moving to another country and way to stress. But now I have to spend ten days in quarantine so I will try to catch up and write all the asks I received in the meantime. So sorry for the delay and I hope the waiting will worth it!!

Also this is the first part of a small series about Pete x singer!reader because I had few asks on this theme! Hope you will enjoy

 Words: 1600+

Warning: none I guess

You had been dating Pete for few months. You decided to keep it low profile. It wasn’t really a secret; your friends and families were aware that you were together but you didn’t want the whole world to know. You had seen Pete’s debacle with his exes, and he witnessed yours. You both agreed to not to make it public this soon since you wanted to avoid paps, gossips articles, harassment online and to hear everybody’s opinion. You were surprised that no one caught the two of you or speculated on your relationship. Maybe the both of you being friends for years, evolving within the same circle of people helped you. When people saw the two of you strolling, getting ice cream together, no magazines titled about how cute this date was but rather on how good it was for you to have such good friends in your life.

These past couple of weeks, it had been hard to spend some quality time with Pete. You had to flew to LA to assist to the Grammys and you missed your boyfriend so much through out the ceremony. You wished that you could have hold his hands during the stressful waiting, kissed him when you heard your name, thanked him when you gave your acceptance speech or feel his hand drawing absurd figure in your back to relax you while you were waiting to perform. Then after going back to New York, you hadn’t had that much time. Your publicist had packed you with interviews and gigs during late night shows. It was tiring but worth it. Your career was on a clear path to success. You were finally considered as not another pop star but one of the biggest artists out there. Pete was so supportive of you. You lived for his lovely text messages to give you strength before each performance or his compliments on how beautiful you looked on TV, how smart your answers were, how funny you were during an interview game.

You had eventually managed to find an afternoon just for you and Pete. You enjoyed a home-cooked meal at his place and could help but melt every time he was laughing while recounting his week. You simply spend the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons. It was your way to decompress together. Pete would always prepare some snacks while you set everything up. Then you would lose at least ten minutes to choose which cartoons or movies to watch. You usually had long debate on whether SpongeBob was better than Scooby-doo. Pete would always take you in his arms while you were watching, peppering your neck with kisses and smelling your hair. He liked the smell of your shampoo arguing that it reminded him of happiness. That was so cliché and yet so adorable, you couldn’t make fun of this cheesiness.

You were slowly falling asleep engulfed by Pete’s warmth, this was cozy, it felt like home. Suddenly, you heard your phone buzzed and sighed. It was your agent, asking you where you were to pick you up to go an interview. You texted her your address while you looked for something to put on for the TV. You liked very much the clothes you had on but you doubted that their shades would be nice on camera. As you were researching the perfect outfit in underwear, trying on several combo, you congratulated yourself for letting some clothes at your boyfriend’s place. You were hesitating between two tops and asked Pete’s opinion. After a quick joke on how good you looked in underwear and that you probably should go like this, he made up his mind for the baby blue top.

You rushed outside to be picked by your team but not before sharing a sweet but passionate kiss with Pete and agreeing to spend the night at your place after the show. Your team smiled at you knowingly as you entered the car but they didn’t make any comment on your relationship. You discussed the show, the possible questions and what the best answers would be… The ride was pretty quiet after that and you soon arrived at the building where the show was taped. You were warmly welcomed by the host. You had already done some interviews with him, he was easy to talk to, always made you comfortable and was rather fun to be around. He lead you to the make-up artist trailer who didn’t fail to notice your tired look but promised you that it was nothing than a bit of foundation and powder could hide. Indeed, after only 15 minutes there you were glowing, looking fresh, like a fairytale princess leaving her bed.

As you were waiting to be called on stage, you received a message from Pete telling you that he was excited to see you on the show, that no matter what you were the best and that he was eager to see you tonight to finish the nap you had started together. You quickly replied before entering the stage. The interview went rather smoothly. You had begun with questions about your last album and upcoming project teasing a possible collab with Taylor Swift. The crowd went wild at this info and you knew that you would certainly end up in top tweets. After a commercial, you played a game with the host where you had to sing a random song imitating another artist. Clearly, it was not your forte, but you were funny enough to make it a good moment to watch. Then, you proceeded to answers some more interrogations from the public that could be found on social media. Those questions were a lot more personal and globally more focused on your art, compositions, writing skills, inspiration. You were passionate, your eyes were big with enthusiasm and you did a lot of gesture with your hand with made the host smile.

You were so happy that when a question about your dating life came up, you didn’t think twice before saying “Well I am the luckiest person, I have my dream career and dating Pete Davidson is just the cherry on the top, you know. He is just so perfect for me, like me understand and support each other, it just so great when you can share all those moments with someone you love and trust.” As you finished your rant, you noticed how the host was staggered. You finally realized what you had revealed and blushed furiously. “Did you just announce publicly that you are dating SNL cast member Pete Davidson?”. It was like words were dying in your throat and you envisioned Pete’s reaction at this. Surely it was not how you had planned to go public. You nodded shyly and the show stopped there. The host thanks the audience who was visibly thrilled, and you made your way backstage. You compulsively checked your phone every five seconds waiting for a text from your now very public boyfriend. But none came and it was worse. You felt so bad, you never wanted to put him in such a position, you were not sure that he was ready to go public, face the world’s reaction but here you were because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

Your team drove you back to your place assuring you that it was okay, he couldn’t be mad at you for this but actually he legitimately could. They insist that you should check your social media, people were very supportive of you, saying that you were so cute together, goals… however you didn’t think that it was a good idea right now, you head spinning with the prospect to face Pete.

You silently entered your house waiting for Pete to arrive, a huge lump in your stomach. You felt so guilty, obviously you had to ruin everything, didn’t you. You were in your kitchen drinking a hot cocoa to calm your nerve when you heard Pete unlocked your front door with his spare keys. You didn’t dare to approach him and let him come in the room, your hands shaking so bad that you had spilled some hot beverage on it. You didn’t really feel the burning sensation, you were too scared of what he would say. To make it even more torturing he remained silent as he glanced at you. he eventually approached you and put away your cup as he took your injured hand in his. He put it under cold water and you let him do it, not understanding what was happening. “Do you think that I hate you or that I am angry at you for making it public without talking about it first?” he stated more than questioned as he stood behind you with his hand on yours. “Yes” you sighed looking down. He made you turned to face him and since you were still not looking at him, he put gently his hand on your face and lift it up. His face was so calm and soft, not what you were expecting at all. “I don’t mind, I mean sure it would have been better to discuss it and find a way together to announce it but you didn’t did on purpose. You were just so excited and you didn’t really think of it so I can’t blame you. I certainly would have done the same. Also, how I can be mad at someone who is so cute and so adorable when talking about me. You know what you say about us, it means a lot to me, a lot more than you can imagine. I love you, okay, and I don’t care if the whole world knows as long as you know it.” He smiled down at you and brushed away some tears that you hadn’t realize where rolling down your face. He cusped your cheeks and kissed your forehead as you buried yourself in his shirt.

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: iv

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1   ||   chapter 2  ||  chapter 3  ||  chapter 5  ||

word count: 7.7k

sucks when things go south, huh. 

warnings: description of bodily injury, blood, mild? gore (it’s just describing injury), description of overstimulation, capital h and c hurt/comfort

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chapter 4 :’^) thank u for all of the love so far. i appreciate. every. single. one of. u. bottom of my lil rat heart.

this chapter was nearly split, but giving y’all a cliffhanger seemed mean  

this the turning point and set up for the rest of the story so buckle up and enjoy ;^)

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Things between you and Hawks didn’t change too much, not externally anyways. Both of you still continued to indulge your feelings, even if you desperately tried to ignore them. 

You continued to honestly spoil Hawks in lavish drinks of many sensations. Truthfully, you loved nothing more than seeing his face as he sipped at your new creations, watching the curiosity and pleasure spread over his features made your heart soar in your chest.

And Keigo continued to bask in your company. The drinks were always amazing, but the chatter and discourse between the two of you was what he loved most. Or, maybe it was his learning of you through watching your small gestures and cues. His analytical, interpersonal skills were, for once, being put to a use that didn’t involve espionage or deception.

It felt cleansing.

Despite these quietly greedy interactions, there was a great deal of repression between the two of you. Aimless flirting aside, squishing any growing feelings caused you both a great deal of strain. It worked, avoidance, for a while anyway. It wasn’t without consequences, but they wouldn’t get nasty until later.

 One of the most apparent tolls was Keigo’s physical state. Having to actively ignore and quash his feelings for you caused such a deep amount of emotional turmoil. It made him ache all over. This was in addition to an asinine amount of extra hours he was spending staking out the villain syndicate that was indeed in the neighborhood of the tea shop. 

(He wouldn’t admit it, but he was being overly diligent in scouting out the organization's doings. They were very close to you and your home, and the thought of you getting caught up in anything to do with his profession fucked him up on-premise alone.) 

The combination of both physical and mental exertion made him messier than ever. It physically clouded him a lot of the time. Exhaustion had well and truly seized nipping at his ankles and proceeded to fully rip a chunk from his skull.

Keigo had yet another long day, dawn until at least midnight, no matter his aching body.

He’d be listening in on out some sort of meeting between the villain syndicate and one of its allies, some more reclusive group of villains from the far-off mountains. Neither organization was particularly noteworthy, but they did have some nasty criminal connection that needed to be monitored. That meant a late night for Keigo and an even greater need for caffeine. 

He paid you a visit in the early morning. 

 The moment Hawks came through the door, you lit up, beaming from behind the counter.  

The shop was empty, just having opened a few minutes before he appeared. The only sounds were the hum coffee machines, quiet music, and the tapping of your own tinkerings. Normally, there’d be more bustle, but you were alone in the din of the shop. 

“Hey, angel,” He flashed you a winning smile, sliding down into his usual stool and propping his elbows on the counter. “Where’s the calvary?”

“Oh, the other openers?” You jerked your thumb to the door. “Running late. They all stayed up late working on a project for school, so I took one for the team and am manning the ship alone for this first bit.”

You sighed, looking quite tired yourself.

There was mutual recognition of your twin state, though it wasn’t verbally regarded in any way. 

Hawks was far better at hiding his poor health from you, but that didn’t stop you from seeing the pinholes in his facade. You’d gotten better at it with time. 

“What can I get you today, Hawks? Inspire me.” You set the glass on the counter between the two of you, gesturing to the expanse of the coffeeshop. “It’s just you and me today, so I can go all out.”

“You don’t already?” Hawks chuckled, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“I try,” You shrugged. “I really do my best work for you, whether you’re a glorified guinea pig or not. Gotta serve up the best for my best customer.”

On any normal, Hawks would’ve bantered right back at you, keeping you on your toes with quick words and wit.

That day?

He just laughed, something weirdly neutral, almost off-putting because you knew it was manufactured. 

You opened your mouth, brows furrowing. You wanted nothing more than to ask ‘hey, are you alright?’. 

But, that would’ve broken some of your own, mentally-imposed boundaries. It hurt, to just laugh with him, but it was all you would let yourself do. 

“So,” You broke the air with words as opposed to giggles. “What would you like?”

Hawks hummed, “Surprise me.”

“... Like, fully?”

Hawks nodded, slowly. 

 Keigo, in a movement of full vulnerability, (he told himself it would just be for a few minutes), laid his head on his folded arms, “Go wild, angel. I trust you. Make me anything you’re feeling. Wing it, no pun intended.”

 You blinked at him, nodding. His sudden, almost submissive action surprised you. Something in you ached, seeing him so worn down.

You channeled this feeling into a desire to make him top-tier drink. 

Reaching into your apron, you fished out your idea notebook. Many had been crossed off over the many weeks (months now?) that Hawks had been visiting the tea shop. You fairly consistently wrote down new ones, so there were always options, but on that day, none appealed to you.

Your gaze flickered back to Hawks, watching the soft movements of his breath through the tight fabric of the back of his shirt. 

You needed to make it extra good, help shake Hawks from his stupor. 

 You’re gonna wing it.

You’ll make a feel-good drink.

 It was your only self-imposed criteria. 

 You hadn’t ever made Hawks a drink without a concept and feeling beforehand, so the concept of not having one seemed novel.

You activated your quirk and began.

“How’s your day been?” Hawks called from behind you, words muffled.

 Keigo still didn’t look at you; resting on his arms allowed him a little bit of a reprieve before his grueling day. He’d take it. Hearing your voice would make it that much better.

 You described your day with a decent amount of detail for how much it hadn’t gotten started yet. Hamming up the detail meant more time for you to craft the drink. Your mind spun, grasping onto pre-existing, mental abstracts in your oddly calm headspace to create something tangible. 

Though your quirk was activated, you weren’t really identifying a feeling specifically, rather just letting your quirk draw from whatever material you had laying around in your brainscape at 6 AM on a weekday morning.

You pulled as many espresso shots as Hawks usually liked (maximum, five, you refused to give him more than that in a single drink), pouring them into some steamed oatmilk and several other ingredients you had mixed into a cup. You tapped some cinnamon on top of the foam, polishing everything off with a dash of sweet cream.

Carefully, you set it between the two of you. Hawks hadn’t spoken since you had begun to make the drink, so oddly silent. 

It almost made your skin itch, his lack of response. You reminded yourself with quick glances that Hawks was very obviously out of it and exhausted. You were sure that without the concealer he wore under his eyes (a secret he revealed to only you), he’d have purple circles punched from how overworked he was.

You hoped your drink would be enough to brighten up his day. 

You bit your lip as Hawks raised his head, blonde waves more unruly than normal. A small, lopsided smile stretched across his face as he sat up, grabbing the drink and bringing it closer. He had learned long ago to allow them to cool. 

 “Sorry for not being as peppy as I normally am!” It was almost imperceptible, the off-kilter tone in his voice. 

You caught it but said nothing. 

He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. “Been running on empty it seems, angel.”

“Then take some fuel, bird boy.” You nodded to the foamy drink. “When are you supposed to be done today?”

“Late, like late. Early morning, probably.” Hawks sighed, taking a sip.

...

As the liquid coated his mouth, Keigo’s mind seized.

 What.

What the fuck.

 Any and all thoughts he had disappeared. They were incinerated from his mind by the drink’s heat. 

A sun-scorching sensation like he’d never even known tore through his body. 

It was so different from the other ‘warm’-toned drinks you’d made him in the past. The flavor and feeling filling him up was nothing like the hearth-like drinks you had made prior. You had treated him to plenty of beverages that felt akin to open flame, warm blankets, a cat purring over your chest, a candle on a cold night—

But, nothing even close to this.

This was such a strong feeling that if he was a less trained man, his eyes would’ve rolled back in his head. If he’d been standing, he was sure his legs would’ve been visibly shaking, probably given out.

Sure, the feeling was abstract, not as concrete as your other drinks but it was ineffably strong. 

 It felt like the flutter you caused in his stomach, but somehow all over and inside of him.

It was the heat in his cheeks when he saw you, but reaching from his toes to the skin of his scalp. 

It was the shock in his throat when you smiled so honestly at him, now forcing his hands to twitch around the cup. 

The consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, magnified and exponentially deeper and marvelously burning.

It was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. But, it was also soft, colored with the earnestness that he admired about you so much—

Oh.

 It clicked as the sensation stirred in his stomach, fluttering to a point of near nausea. 

It was you. 

 The moment he realized it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, as you had made the drink, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming.

His mind stalled as he took it all in, taking another sip. 

The feeling washed over him again, equally as wonderfully crushing.

“Soooo,” You drawled, setting a jar next to you on the counter, beaming him a smile. “What do you think? Gimme your judgment, bird boy.”

Keigo struggled to keep his face neutral as he quickly searched yours. 

Even in his state, it was clear that there was no deception or riddle laced into the creaminess of the drink. The expectancy in your face was derived from admiration, not waiting for the punchline of an unfinished joke.

 “It’s warm! Like, in your stomach.” Hawks looked down before taking another sip, the even smile on his face not wavering for even a moment. “What is it?”

“It’s a miel,” You tapped the jar next to you, pointing at the amber goo inside. “This is some wildflower honey from the owner’s sister’s farm, right outside the city. We have a bunch of extra stuff, so there’s no better time to make a honey-based drink.” 

Hawks eyed the steam, “What goes into a ‘miel’?”

Watching Hawks’ shoulder go slack with the next chug he took, you hummed, “It’s a latte, so espresso and milk, then it has the honey in it which is what makes it a ‘miel’. Topped it with some special sweet cream, a bit of cinnamon. My extra touches in it as well, just based on my quirk.”

Hawks met your gaze, his eyes softening with what you could’ve sworn was desperation, but was quickly swallowed up but stoicism, “And what was this drink’s inspiration?” 

You laughed, shoving your hands in your apron from the typical anxiety, though the feeling itself was somewhat normal and thereby dulled, “It didn’t have one! I just winged it, like you said. My quirk was activated though, so it was just sort of the concept of what I was perceiving and feeling, I suppose.” 

There was a pause as you waited for Hawks to speak. 

He didn’t.

 Keigo stared down at the drink, then you. 

Holy fuck.

This was ambient? 

The sensation that made his toes curl and every part of him yearn to reach out to touch you and give all of himself to you—

It was unintentional?

The feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you, being with you at the teashop. It was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything.

And here you were, unknowingly returning it to him.

You hadn’t intended it to be shared and you had no idea you even did.

Keigo was one of the most perceptive people on the planet— he knew that many of the feelings between the two of you were mutual. As much flirting as there was, a lot of it was real from both of you. 

He just didn't think it ran this far deep.

(Mutually.)

 “What... What do you think it tastes like?” You asked, that nasty rot in your gut rearing itself as Hawk’s lack of response ate at you. You turned fully to him, actually taking him in.

 Keigo did what he was so skilled at doing—

Lying.

 Hawks waved his hands in front of him like he was trying to put out small flames, “Nothing bad! Promise, it’s really good! It tastes like how the coffee shop feels. Warm, comfortable. It makes sense that your quirk would reflect that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, good. I’m glad it's good.”

“Very good. I might have to put miels on my list of favorite drinks you’ve made me,” Hawks gave you a relaxed grin, standing and passing a wad of cash to you.

You didn’t expect him to be leaving so quickly, but he did say he was busy.

“Oh, hey, Hawks?” He perked up when you said his name, blinking at you. “I’ve got a project I’m working that I’m doing for the owner, so I’ll be here late. If you’re around, you’re welcome to come by after close if you want another drink? For your long night.”

Hawks softened for you like he so often had come to do. He fluffed up the collar of his jacket, wings ruffling up behind him, “I think I’ll take you up on that. I’ll have some ideas for you then too, how about that?”

 “Sounds lovely,” Your voice was like the honey of the drink, warm, sweet, and vibrant. “I’ll see you then, Hawks.”

“See you then, angel,” Hawks practically glowed as he walked from the door, the chime of the bell sounding with his exit. “I’ll text you when I’m close!”

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 Over the course of the day, an odd feeling grew in the pitch of your stomach. You did your best to ignore it. 

You alternated between serving customers and working on the ‘project’ the owner had saddled you with. Making centerpieces for his sister’s bridal shower was not something you should’ve been doing on company time, but they were giving you a handsome sum of cash under the table for it. 

You couldn’t complain too much, other than that it was laborious. Masons jars stuffed with wired lights and frosted glasses, tied with twine and ribbons were all to be prettily arranged by your hand. 

 During the middle of the day, you went back home, spending your time between shifts catching up on sleep and making some decent food.

The odd gnawing only grew in your stomach. 

 Keigo’s long day was wearing on, though somewhat uneventfully. Most of his patrolling time was the effortless thwarting of petty crime and easy rescuing. 

He even had the time to go back to his agency and snoop.

Because, for how lame his day was, the drink you made him (which he had greedily chugged all of shortly upon leaving the tea shop) caused him to think particularly hard about your quirk.

(As opposed to the asphyxiating awareness of your shared feelings.)

 He didn’t get it.

You’d managed to perfectly create a drink that communicated complex feelings. You’d told him in the past that it could be used for any sort of feeling as well, but you were so vague beyond that. You were abstract in the same way you quirk was.

So, he decided to abuse his power a little.

He decided to actually take a lunch at the agency, munching on takeout while clicking through the HPSC’s databases.

Civilian quirks, especially those that had never attempted to pursue any sort of career with them, weren’t documented incredibly well. Maybe a few details that were used in public research projects, but not much beyond that. He had hoped he could dig and find something that would assuage his curiosity and confusion.

He tapped your name into the HPSC’s hero-accessible database, scrolling and pulling up your file.

There was a picture of you, one from an ID that must’ve been a few years old. There were personal details Keigo wasn’t all that interested in, though it was neat to finally know your birthday. 

He clicked on the tab for your quirk.

  Quirk: Synesthetic Manifestation 

Description: Allows the user to materially manifest abstract, synesthetically-created feelings into reality. 

This quirk does not allow the user to alter reality, only tangibly create abstracts through the means at their disposal.  

Drawback: This quirk causes severe synesthetic overstimulation and appears to be activated unintentionally in instances that expose them to high amounts of stimuli. 

Quirk potential: 

 Keigo knew the concept of ‘quirk potential’ well. Most of the time, this portion on files was only filled out if the individual had ever trained to use their quirk in a profession.

Oddly, your’s contained a few details.

 The user showed high potential in initial assessments, but due to the nature of the quirk, its drawbacks, and its recorded usage, this user’s quirk is now classified as lowest potential.

 Keigo frowned.

All this just made him more confused. 

The file didn’t get into much more detail than you did. The only thing that was new information to him was that at some point you had tried to use your quirk in a training setting and that somehow got you demoted from high potential to lowest potential.

Keigo’s own quirk in the database was regarded as highest potential; you, at some point, were only a step down from him. Something knocked you down from pursuing quirk-based work, and based on your current employment at the tea shop, you never got up. Keigo figured it was the intricacies of your quirk that he didn’t fully understand.

He’d have to be a bit more careful getting any more information out of you, considering how much you disliked talking about it. 

Keigo continued to stew, finishing off his lunch while thoughts of you and your feelings danced across his mind. 

Though it was clear his adoration was obviously returned, it was much easier for him to muse over the nature of your quirk than the way he wanted to pull you over the teashop’s counter and kiss you breathless.

 You went back to work, a few chalky tablets of stomachache medicine in your tummy. They were all you could do to try and quell the twisting in your gut. 

 By the time you arrived back to start your ‘night shift’, it was late evening, the sun already having fallen into the horizon. 

Most of your time prior to closing was spent in the front, helping make drinks and clean up as you could. Part of you was actually excited to throw on some good music and grind after the tea shop was shut down for the night.

Also, seeing Hawks twice in the same day? Absolutely fantastic.

You wanted to try and make him a knockout drink, to make up for the lackluster one you’d prepared him earlier. Seeing his eyes get all gooey with happiness would more than push you through your night of work.

Your phone chimed a bit before close.

 [birdboy]: hey ;^) mind if I come by in like a half an hour?

[you]: yeah!! just call me and i’ll unlock the door for you

 Your closing coworkers giggled at you. They all knew that that big smile stretched across your face meant you were texting Hawks. You used to get a bit shy about it, but now you just gave them shit. He was your friend, right?

 [birdboy]: what if i like, hit the glass, like fly into it like birds do into windows

[you]: okay one- no, that would definitely shatter the windows and idk if i wanna deal with that AND you tonight ;^)

[you]: and TWO- are you speaking. from experience. about hitting windows.

[birdboy]: please dont @ me like this 

 You snorted. 

 [birdboy]: i had to pay off a tabloid who got it on camera bc it would ruin my brand

[you]: do u still have those photos

[birdboy]: ... maybe

[you]: hawks

[you]: gimme

[birdboy]: idk if i can my publicist will kill me

[you]: u hear what i hear?? a coward

[you]: how does ‘your brand’ feel about that

[birdboy]: ...

[birdboy]: gimme one of those honey sticks u have at the register and the pics are yours once i get there ;^)))

[you]: DEAL!!!

 You pocketed your phone in your apron, unable to stop the almost ridiculous smile that you wore.

Hawks made you uncomfortably happy. You knew that he didn’t feel the same, but he was still there. Even if you were just entertainment to him, you were happy to perform on any stage he was watching. 

As closing crept up, you shooed your other coworkers off. Most of the closing tasks were done, they could leave a few minutes early. 

As they began to pack up, chatting about some party that night, your insides twisted.

You squeezed the counter, rubbing your forehead while wishing your coworkers a good evening.

Weird.

 It was about then that things went to shit for both you and Hawks. 

 Keigo’s was supposed to be in for a hellishly long shift of surveillance based on the intel he’d received about the syndicate and its impending meeting. 

Apparently, that meeting was happening earlier, rather than later. 

The chaos started quickly, the meetup going from a strategic talk to an all-out fight between two groups. 

It spilled into the nearby streets, both sides unabashed in their destruction. 

 Perhaps, if Keigo had been faster (what a tall order, for the fastest man in all of Japan), things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand. 

But quickly, things erupted and the streets dissolved in mayhem as he dove and sent feathers flying.

 You stood by the front entrance, waiting for Hawks, idly sweeping. The cleaning tasks were almost done, the world outside was dark with the late evening.

You froze when the ground beneath your feet rumbled with revving engines, the air splitting with the sound of car horns and alarms. 

Everything that happened next moved so quickly, it was difficult to follow.

Windows began to shatter all across the street, near and far.

They cracked, spraying glass as a figure cloaked in black flew down the asphalt outside. A red barrage followed after it, nearly subduing it as it raced past the tea shop.

The massive glass panels at the front of the tea shop filled with frosty lines, just feet in front of you. 

It clicked for you a few moments too late.

Adrenaline shot through you, but it wasn’t enough. 

...

You weren’t Hawks, you weren’t fast enough to outrun much of anything, let alone quirk-shattered glass. 

You were just barely able to turn around before the spray of shards reached you. 

You would later be incredibly thankful that you wore denim jeans and a wool sweater that day. Without the thick fabrics, you were sure that you would’ve been shredded. The problem was your low-top shoes and thin socks.

Just as you turned, searing pain shot from the back of your left ankle. You urged yourself to forget the specifics, flesh-tearing, mind beginning to buzz. 

You just had to keep moving. 

Except, you couldn’t. Your left leg gave out with your next step.

You shrieked as you fell to the floor, barely catching yourself. Your palms smacked against the ground, pieces of sharpened glass driving into the flesh. 

You couldn’t help screaming, your voice mingling with the sound of alarms, cries for help, and the war cries of a nearby fight.

Oh.

You were in the middle of a fairly nasty villain attack.

...

So much for giving Hawks a better drink.

The mental joke seemed macabre, especially in your state.

 You willed with all of your might, for your quirk to not activate. Overstimulation was just inches away from your current state, the sounds outside the teashop boring through your skull like diamond drill bits. 

The pain that was radiating from your left leg was nearly unbearable, but you knew that getting out of the front room was imperative. 

How you managed to keep your injured leg straight, you’ll never know. 

You locked your jaw and pulled yourself along the floor, hoping that Hawks had this all under control. More people were bound to be hurt by the same sort of attack you got caught in, right? How many more folks had been sliced up like you? Worse than you?

 Keigo wasn’t having much trouble subduing the villains. They, of course, had no idea that he had been watching the syndicate for three-odd months. He knew their quirks, their tactics, their escape routes, everything. What he didn’t know as well was the other group’s specifics. 

From what he had understood before the fight, the two had somewhat friendly relations. Still, Keigo mentally kicked himself for not being more diligent in his gathering of intel. 

His mistakes aside, the much more pressing issue was the two-kilometer stretch of shops that were now collateral damage in what was essentially a mobile mob war. 

This damage included the tea shop.

When he’d flown past the shop, he’d only caught a glimpse of your face through the glass before it shattered.

You’d looked terrified.

Every part of him wanted to stop, dead in the air, rush in, and make sure you were okay, but he had to at least get things under control until more heroes showed up. Then, he’d be able to get to you. 

By the time Keigo subdued several villains of either group, more Pros had arrived on the scene. He sped off to the teashop far too quickly when he saw others gathering. It was an ill-advised move, but he was clouded by a different set of instincts than those cultivated in his hero training. 

The flight did allow him to fully take in the damage of the district, though.  

It was about as bad as it could be.

Whatever the villain’s quirk was must’ve shattered glass within a certain radius from his body, Keigo observed.

Thankfully, the villain’s quirk didn’t appear to affect anything past two stories of height, sparing all above it. Those panes and pieces that did shatter had sprayed businesses, restaurants, shops, and the street with shards of glass. Not to mention that they flew at the speed of projectiles.

(At the full-minded revelation that there was no way you weren’t hurt, Keigo felt his stomach flip and eyes burn.)

Keigo shuddered to think how bad the damage would’ve been if the encounter happened during broad daylight. 

 Keigo curled in his wings, dropping onto the floor at the front of the teashop through the broken window. 

He kept his expression somewhat neutral, though the scene before him tore at his heart in a way he wasn’t expecting.

The tea shop was destroyed.

The pretty, warm lighting fixtures had shattered, fine filaments exposed, and a few sparking. The glass jars on your wall of tea blends were broken, spilling leaves and dried herbs across the back counter. That wasn’t even to mention the layer of shards from all of the glassware stored around the coffee machines.

Seeing the destruction of one of the only places he had ever found real comfort in was awful, and it tore something hidden and vulnerable in his heart.

But far, far worse was the absolute horror that bloomed in his chest when he saw the sizeable spot of blood in the middle of the floor, smearing to the back doorway. 

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted, ignoring any stealthy elements and hurriedly following the trail.

“B-back here,” Oh, your voice was so weak. 

Keigo couldn’t make himself move fast enough.

 You’d managed to get yourself to the back, biting your lip so hard you were scared you’d break the skin. Part of you was lucid enough to know that making too much noise could be bad. Then again, the shop was supposed to be closed. Did anyone even know that you were there?

Hawks did.

You gripped at one of the edges of the stainless steel countertops, using all the strength you could muster to pull yourself upright. As careful as you were not to jostle your injured leg (that you still hadn’t looked at properly because you were terrified), the moment you bent it, you had to suppress a scream, turning it into a slow, nasty exhale. You let yourself sink to the floor again. 

Something was seriously fucked up.

 Then Hawks called your name. 

You were sprawled out on the floor, injured leg awkwardly turned and extended to prevent the pain from being made worse. 

The moment he saw you from the doorway, the remnants of his wings flapped, practically throwing him to the ground next to you.

The moment you saw him enter the back room, any and all fronts you had put on for yourself fell apart.

“H-Hawks,” You hated how small your voice sounded as you pushed yourself closer to him.

The details of him, how ruffled his remaining feathers were, how wide and scared his eyes were, how different he looked from the times you’d seen him on the news confidently saving the day, were lost on you. 

 Though, Keigo noticed your poor state easily. It was more obvious. 

He scanned your form with the trained precision he was known for. He took in the shattered piece of glass sticking from your leg, bleeding lightly. Your palms weren’t bloody, but they were dotted with shards of glass. 

He also noticed your panicked shaking and your unnaturally dilated pupils, beyond anything he’d seen while you’d made drinks for him. 

“Is your quirk active?” Keigo asked, pulling off his gloves and grabbing one of your wrists. He turned your palm, using two of his smallest feathers like tweezers to pick at the shards pieces of glass. 

“Y-yeah,” You replied, using the back of your other hand to wipe at your eyes. “It does this when I’m under extreme stress. I can’t turn it off.”

Keigo managed to laugh, relieved that the cuts in your hands weren’t that severe, “You just focus on me, okay, angel? That’s all you gotta do.”

 You nod, trying to hold your overstimulated mind back. It’s fruitless, truly, because the moment Hawks reminds you that he is, in fact, there, and that you are safe, you quirk-addled mind spasms. 

The awful mix of sensations whirled in your skull as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead into Hawks’ shoulder. In other circumstances, it would be a romantic gesture. But, the only purpose you had in the contact was hoping, praying, that the heat of his body would distract you from the swirling of sensations you couldn’t stop. 

In that mental soup, within the fear, intense pain, and loss, oddly enough, was the unignorable, pleasant feeling of being so close to him. It made your heart squeeze. But, it was a single spice of sensation in a foul-tasting stew though, and it was hard to isolate the good in the muck of your mind. 

You shook against him as sounds and pain blended inside your skull, thoughts becoming murkier and harder to understand.

 Keigo finished tweezing your other hand, that one worse off, and wrapping it in some gauze he had stuffed in his jacket.

His mind screamed for him to wrap you in his arms, to pull you close and keep you safe. It was all he could fathom doing, just nearly moving to do so—

That was until the popping rumble of a nearby explosion interrupted his thoughts.

You jumped against him, muffling a scream in his shoulder.

His heart ached.

 “(Y/N), I know this is all scary,” Hawks’s voice came through your sensational slurry. “But, I need to be back out there right now.”

“No.” Your mouth spewed with no discernable thoughts behind it. “Don’t leave. Please, don’t. Please.”

You caught Hawks’ wince, but barely. 

He was already repositioning you, scooting you under one of the countertops, “Angel, I’m sorry. I need to go, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

Your eyes screwed shut, vibrating in your skull as pulling your uninjured leg to your chest. 

Hawks looked equally as torn up about having to leave, brows creased with his lip worried between his teeth.  

Despite how messy your brain felt, you knew that you were beyond defenseless. Even if your mind could easily conjure up an infinite number of ways to bring a person non-lethal (and lethal) pain, you were turning to mush mentally and you had glass sticking out of your leg. You had no fucking way to create it with your body. 

Your back hit the wall under the counter and you managed to wrench your eyes open, taking in Hawks and his visage while you spun.

He looked so sad.

The feeling of mourning and fear spat so hotly in your mind, it was like you’d been intangibly burned by his expression. 

You choked on your own stored tears, reaching out for him.

He caught one of your hands, the wrapped one, and squeezed it lightly. 

Even with so few feathers left, Hawks plucked one, about the size of your forearm. He replaced his hand with the plumage. 

“(Y/N), I will be back. I promise,” Hawks (so weakly) smiled, trying to reassure you. “You snap that feather if anything changes, okay? If anyone comes into the shop who isn’t another pro, or if you start to feel faint. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” You gritted out, somehow laughing. Your vocal cords rubbing together sends a wave of agony up the back of your neck, burying behind your eyes. You press your forehead in your bent knee. 

 With one last, fleeting look, eyeing your wound and remembering slate-colored eyes, Keigo took flight into the fray once more. 

Keigo hated leaving you. He hated it so fucking much. It burned him, felt wrong in every way. You were so vulnerable in your state. Both of you knew that without him there, you were entirely exposed and fairly defenseless.  

It perked up that protective instinct he’d repeatedly had towards you for months. It was probably something related to his avian mutation, but it was just blood-boiling need to keep you safe.

Yet, he just left you, wounded and mentally spiraling, in the middle of a destroyed building.

If he wasn’t trained so well, he would have acted differently. But, it had been burned into him time and time again what his needs were in disaster situations.

Neutralize, stabilize, clear out. 

Through his exhaustion, he fought and soared with all he had, fatigue forgotten and replaced by hot cortisol. He forced himself faster, zipping down alleyways and across rooftops at some of his top speeds. 

While Keigo tracked down all of the villains (he managed to miss the first time), he trusted that the other Pros could deal with the heavy collateral damage. He was number two, he could catch some organized criminals. 

Beyond his training, Keigo had an even bigger motivation. 

He could feel you.

The feather he left with you must’ve been pressed right up to your chest, maybe under your neck with the way Keigo could so intensely feel your breath and heartbeat. He could sense it gradually speeding up to the point of what had to be panic. If Keigo focused, he could make out your terror-stricken babbling.

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“This is fine.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Hawks is okay.”

“He’ll come back.”

“He won’t leave.”

...

“Everything's gonna be okay.”

With that last one, your words gave out and it turned in gasping breaths. 

Keigo worked himself harder, striking down the last of villains with absolute precision, all distractions forgotten in the most pivotal moments of combat. 

The instant the villains were in custody, restrained, he was flying back towards the tea shop.

 You don’t remember any of this well. Your mind was liquified, your body throbbing in pain. 

It had been an incredibly long time, years since you’d been in any situation resembling a villain attack. There was no way to stop the synesthetic storm that was choking your mind. Every sensation was magnified, mixed with another, and shoved down your throat without any ability to change it.

A few minutes after Hawks left, giving you time to stew and roll, you spiraled more harshly.

When you realized how pitifully helpless you were, you fell away, pressing your wet face into the Hawks’s feather. Your vision muddled between black and red. 

You felt the cold of the blood wetting your pant leg.

Your wound is bad.

You hadn’t fully looked at it in awhile. 

Opening your eyes, you suppressed a wave of nausea at the small puddle of blood growing under the bottom half of your useless leg. 

The way the denim of your jeans stuck to your skin mixed with the smell heady smell of blood made you gag. 

You couldn’t keep it up anymore.

Letting your eyes shut, you sank down to the floor, cheek pressed into the dirty cement. 

You don’t know how long you idled, drowning in your mind’s colors and vibrantly violent sensations. 

You were only half-conscious when the feather pressed to your neck twitches.

 “(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted as he landed in the teashop, flying straight to the backroom, bypassing the mess of broken glass. 

His breath caught, seeing you slumped over.

“Fuck,” Keigo couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice as he noticed how much blood had pooled beneath your injured ankle. “Hey, hey, (Y/N)—”

He sure fucking sucked at admitting his faults, and recognizing the severity of wounds was indeed one of them. He didn’t usually stick around long enough to deal with casualties so closely. 

Keigo threw off his gloves, tossing them behind him without looking. 

“‘M fine,” You started to push yourself up, hissing at the pain that surged from cuts in your hands. “Brain’s mushy.”

“That all?” Thank god Hawks still managed to joke. The humor dashed across your vision like little sparks. You stifle a weak snort. 

 “There’s my angel.” Keigo was so relieved to see you conscious that he didn’t notice his own possessive slipup. “Are you lightheaded?”

Gingerly, he helped stabilize your body upright as you wrenched your eyes open.

“A little, it’s okay, this is what happens,” Your voice was so loud in your own skull, it hurt. Though, the pain of your words was only a prick in the wet dough of your overworked mind. Sensation was pain, rolling over you and making it harder and harder to stay lucid. 

 Keigo swallowed thickly at the sight of your fully-blackened irises. 

He needed to get you out as fast as possible, but that required assessing the gash in your leg. 

His gaze flickered to your ankle, “Can you move your toes?”

“I don’t want to.”

Keigo frowned, weakly, pushing you as upright as possible as you began to slip to the side. 

“Please, you have to try, okay?” Keigo begged, not noticing his own voice wobble. 

You shook your head, grabbing it in within its own motion. The dizziness made your insides knot and stick together. 

“(Y/N), please.”

You shifted your gaze to him, vision tilting as you did. 

The frown on your face split as you just barely moved your toes within your blood-soaked shoe.

The fresh pain, vibrant and boiling, cut through the fog like a heat-blackened knife. 

Your own fist flew into your mouth to mouth to suppress the cry that bubbled from your throat. You half-recognized it was the one holding Hawks’s feather. 

You couldn’t see the way Keigo flinched at the sound, immediatly trying to soothe the two of you. 

 “Alright, good, okay, you can still feel them,” Hawks managed to laugh, cutting into the miasma of your psyche. It was something light and airy, tasting like packet sugar on the sides of your tongue. 

Chasing the goodness of Hawks’s voice, you mustered up as much clarity as you could grasp, willing yourself into full sentences, “Hawks. I swear to fucking God, if you do not get me out of here right now, I will never make you a drink ever again.”

 Keigo blinked at you, nodding, watching your attempt to focus on him, though the fully inked irises seemed to refuse to stay put.

 So, this is what the file meant about the cost of your quirk. 

 “Don’t have to tell me twice, dove.” Hawks scooped you up before you could manage to put more thoughts together. A few of his feathers flew to stabilize your injured leg. 

His touch felt good, like incredibly good. Even as the crunch of his boots on the broken glass of the tea shop scratched at your inner ears and burned your sinuses, the heat and texture of his jacket caressed over your cheeks. His warmth tasted like honey and cream. 

Your head lolled onto his chest, idly playing with the filaments of his feathers that you refused to let go of. 

 (Keigo didn’t want you to, anyway.)

He couldn’t fly well, not in his mostly-featherless state, so he took to walking instead. He sidestepped as much glass he could, mostly watching your half-lidded eyes fixate on the feather you had pressed up to your face.

It was a weird circle, Keigo feeling your heat and breath so close, both on his body and on the sensitive plumage. Technically, he was doing his job, so he let himself indulge just the smallest bit in being so close to you. When Keigo squeezed you, nearly at the medic’s area, you tucked your face into his collarbones, breaths slowing from panic. You were even slack in his grip.

A paramedic rushed up to the two of you, guiding you to a setup stretcher and a waiting line of ambulances.

 “We can take it from here, Hawks, no need to stick around,” The paramedic’s voice cut through the air, dripping bitterness on your tonsils and iron nails in your lungs. 

Hawks set you half-down onto the lip of the vehicle, “Nah, it’s okay, I’ll hang out with them for a sec. They’re a friend of mine.”

He’d never said it before. That you were friends. 

Heat rushed up to your fingertips, sweetness washing over your wounded leg, topped off silken air settling around your ears. 

You’d drown in the sensation, a million times over.

 The paramedic ran off quickly, a man with a nasty head wound taking precedence over your leg (which seemed to have clotted somewhat with your somewhat more relaxed state). 

Hawks still didn’t leave.

Rather, he moved closer.

So did you.

 From your spot sitting on the edge of the ambulance, your injured leg was twisted and propped up while the other dangled off the edge of the vehicle.

Keigo was right up against the metal, allowing you to lean on his side.

“You good?” You asked him, bumping your leg into his lower back.

Keigo couldn’t help jumping. You’d never casually touched him. 

(He really liked it.)

Though the setting and circumstances were fucked, he figured it was okay. 

You were friends, right?

 Hawks wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing you into his side.

You took it a step further, wanting to simply soak in the amber, milky feeling of his touch. 

You squish your cheek low against his collarbone, drinking in the smell of his sweat, stale, spiced cologne, and rich, expensive smelling hair oil. 

The scents washed over your skin, rolling over your burning wounds like aloe and clean water.  

“Thank you.” Your voice is small and soft, kept gentle by your last sparks of lucidity. 

You heard Hawks chuckle, your vision swimming in honey and yellow with the sound, “Just doing my job, you know.”

“I mean, yeah,” You laughed too, pressing your nose harder into him. “But, it’s you, and I’m just glad you’re here.”

“You better stop being so sweet,” The hand around your shoulder rubbed slowly, up and down your spine, sweet spices and sugars dancing on the roof of your mouth. “Gonna give me ideas.”

The touch, something you craved and denied yourself, pushed you over the edge as his touch dissolved across your overstimulated mind in cresting waves of rushing, blessed heat. 

Finally succumbing to the flood of your quirk, drowning your mind in both agony and absolute calm, you muttered out the last clear thing you said that evening, “We always give each other ideas, silly.”

God, the many meanings behind your words spun and stuck in Keigo’s mind like the taste of the miel he drank that morning. They relentlessly clung to his psyche, wanting to know more. 

He stayed close while you were assessed and strapped into the ambulance. He sent a few of his last feathers to retrieve your jacket and purse from the wrecked shop.

All the while you clutched his bare hand, irises black while the whites turned bloodshot. 

As the ambulance drove off towards that public hospital, he could feel the steady beat of your heart through the crimson feather he made sure was tucked in your hand the moment he had to let it go.

He felt you squeeze it, and he wanted nothing more than to return the gesture a thousand times over.  

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #30 - The Cybertronian Judicial System is a Friggin’ Joke

Have I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of court case stories? I think they’re pretty boring, on average, so the last couple of issues have been slightly dragging for me.

Anyway, back to Megatron’s trial. 

Our issue opens up with a full back shot of Ultra Magnus.

Artists take note, he really is built like a capital T.

As Magnus reads out Megatron’s statement retracting his “guilty” plea, we get some decent points as to why. See, telling a guy that you’ll stab him in the brain, so his trial can be over as quickly as possible, maybe isn’t such a hot idea. Megatron wasn’t a huge fan of that, or of how those memories they would’ve yanked outta him would have been used to fuel the Autobot propaganda machine. Why, you may ask?

Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Megatron… doesn’t particularly care for the Autobots, nor the rhetoric they uphold.

I know, I was surprised too!

There’s also the fact that Optimus Prime is the judge on this whole thing. You know. Optimus Prime. Off and on leader of the Autobots, whenever it suits him. The guy who fucked off into space for a year after the war. The guy who threw a hissy fit when someone pointed out that he was compromised the last time they did something like this with Megatron. This guy:

Yeah, there might be a slight conflict of interests here. Remind me again why this had to be a military trial?

Anyway, enough of that, it’s time for a fight scene.

A swarm of Decepticons storm the arena, going after Megatron so they can help him escape. Magnus, though acting as Megatron’s defense, cannot abide by this disorder in the court.

Wild to think there’s a tiny little Pringles man with anxiety in there, isn’t it?

Optimus joins the fray, because there really are, just, so many guys to deal with here. A dude goes to collect Megatron, stating that they brought teleport packs for this little shindig. Megatron isn’t super jazzed about that though, not bothering to grab on before the dude gets shot to death. There’s a brief recess, I guess so the janitorial staff can deal with the mess of corpses littering the courtroom.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Rung’s building a model spaceship in Swerve’s, which is a very brave thing to be doing, seeing how sticky and gross bars can be. Brainstorm’s brought a flask to the bar, and proceeds to pour the contents into a funnel sticking out of his arm.

Our bartender for the evening- I’m assuming it’s evening, but I doubt the concept of time has any real weight in space- is Bluestreak. Bluestreak was stationed on Earth for a while, which is some Phase One stuff, and took a liking to human media while he was there. He’s the guy who handles movie night these days, seeing as Rewind’s too busy being dead to do it, and I doubt Chromedome has the emotional bandwidth to take over for his late spouse.

Bluestreak’s favorite movie is Zulu, a film glorifying the colonialism of the English over the native populace of an African kingdom. Make of that what you will.

Whirl wants to watch À Bout de Soufflé, or Breathless, as it was translated for the English-speaking world, which is a French New Wave film about a criminal who shoots a cop, hides from the police in a journalist’s home, who he seduces and likely impregnates. She eventually finds out what he did, reports him to the police, but then has a change of heart and lets him know what she’s done. He runs, but is shot, and dies in the street. The film is notable for its final scene, in which the following dialogue happens, between the dying criminal Michael, his lover Patricia, and an officer.

Of course, any poignancy would almost certainly be lost on the average comic book reader, and is also somewhat nullified by Whirl praising the film with internet lingo.

Then again, I suppose Whirl would be the type to dismantle any deeper reading of his interest in such a film, lest he be subjected to the horrifying ordeal of being known.

Over with Skids and Riptide, it’s revealed that Megatron’s been teaching classes on the Lost Light, specifically on the Knights of Cybertron. Riptide’s getting an education, because he’s been feeling pretty lost since the war ended- we’ll get to the potential whys of that later on. Swerve isn’t a fan of this community college thing that’s going on, stating that Megatron’s using it as a distraction, so he can devise plots most foul.

Back in the past, Autobot high command is having a talk about what Megatron’s demanding, and man is it a doozy— turns out, since the trial’s happening on Luna 2, the trial proceedings are subject to the laws of the moon. One of these moon laws is the right to request being judged by the Knights of Cybertron. Now, this is a problem, seeing as the Knights of Cybertron have been AWOL for the last several million years, but the law is the law, and you can’t just go ignoring it when someone’s pointed it out.

Bro, your SIC just suggested y’all pull the trial so you could slap it on Cybertron, thus negating any need to pay attention to the Knight law. That’s such a gross miscarrying of justice, it’s genuinely baffling. You’ve got bigger issues going on than flouting. My god, Optimus, you were a cop—

Oh wait, that’s right. Carry on, then.

Back on the Lost Light, First Aid’s checking to make sure that the coffin Rodimus they revealed last issue is true and proper dead. Now, this may seem like a given, but you’ve got to remember that Brainstorm was mostly dead for over a year and a half, and nobody fucking noticed, so it’s probably for the best that they’re checking.

First Aid’s been pretty withdrawn since Ambulon died, so this autopsy is really good for him, since it got him out of his room. Pretty fucked up that it would take a dead body to get him out and about. Has Rung checked in on his poor son of a gun, or has he been spending the last six months getting his professional rocks off psychoanalyzing a genocidal warlord?

Our coffin Rodimus died from having parts of his brain removed, and potentially died screaming.

Yes, that is a Furmanism, thank you peanut gallery, moving on—

Ratchet hands the phone over to Ultra Magnus, saying that a call has to be made, and it can’t be by him, because the callee is mighty upset with Ratchet at the moment.

Oh, I guess he’s fine after all. This must be where the sci-fi bullshit really starts kicking in for the series.

Because seeing your own dead body is likely very traumatic and awful, Rodimus is taking a while to string together his thoughts on the matter. Megatron doesn’t particularly care, because he’s not terribly sympathetic to this sort of thing, and the two get into a spat, where it’s revealed that they’re co-captaining the Lost Light.

Because things weren’t chaotic enough on this fucking ship. Need to mix in some peacocking between the McDonalds twunk and the man who killed half of Beijing.

Back in the past, Optimus Prime visited Megatron in prison to have a little chat. It’s not about that little rescue attempt, though the fact that those Decepticons may have been released from the Lost Light’s brig is certainly interesting. No, Optimus is here to sit way too close to his mortal nemesis on the floor of his room and talk about how Megatron is a sneaky bastard.

You remember the Hellraiser puzzle box from a couple issues back? Yeah, that was a communicube, one that was passed to Optimus to suggest that the trial be held on the moon, so the arena there would be able to hold all the people wronged by Megatron. This seems pretty damn convenient in hindsight, but Megatron swears that the legal loophole wasn’t his only intent when he sent the cube.

Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Megatron? It’s all about how you’re perceived by future generations. Fuck the guys who had to actually deal with what your personal choices caused to happen.

Megatron wants to make amends with all those who were wronged by him. This doesn’t include being acquitted of his crimes, which, y’know, good- at least he’s being slightly realistic about how this is going to turn out for him.

What he wants to do is find Cyberutopia, so the Cybertronians have a replacement planet, since Cybertron kind of sucks now.

Oh, sorry, did I say realistic? I take it back.

In the present, Rodimus is still bummed out about being dead. Still, the day doesn’t stop just because it’s a bad one, and he calls in the experts.

CHROMEDOME YOU PROMISED TO STOP THIS SHIT

Yeah, no, Chromedome’s fallen off the wagon again, and does his thing on the coffin Rodimus. As he does, Megatron suddenly gets squeamish, Brainstorm pulls out his early early-warning device to lean on the fourth wall, and it’s revealed that the coffin that coffin Rodimus was in was built in the fashion of the Spectralist faith.

All Chromedome can suss out of coffin Rodimus’ memories is the really big important stuff, which includes the speech at Rivet’s Field inviting folks to come join the Knight Quest. Aww, that’s sweet.

With the analysis of the innermost energon complete, the results are in— the coffin Rodimus is a Rodimus. A real one, from the near future. Bummer.

I suppose denial is one of the seven stages of grief, isn’t it?

As everyone argues over whether or not Rodimus is going to die, Nightbeat brings up a good point— there aren’t any numbers carved into the coffin Rodimus’ hand. Rodimus is about to reveal some Ratchet-original wisdom, when things start getting really weird; whole sections of the Lost Light are disappearing.

Over at Swerve’s, Tailgate is regaling his peers with the story of his derring-do against Chief Justice Tyrest. Everyone is very impressed, and this includes our good buddy Getaway.

Jeez, think you’ve got enough antagonist shadows on this guy? It’s almost as if the art’s trying to tell us something about him.

Getaway lays it on real thick, saying that Tailgate could totally be the next Prime, with how courageous and awesome he is, all while completely ignoring Tailgate’s personal space and having a weirdly tiny hand. This seems to seriously bother Cyclonus, who is watching this shit go down from the doorway. Our purple space jet leaves once the drinks start being poured and conversation starts happening. God knows he hates talking about his insecurities.

Then the Pipes is Friggin’ Dead alarm goes off. But Pipes has been dead for a while now, so that must mean something else awful is happening.

Back during the trial, I guess because Optimus has a soft spot for Megatron, he allows him to join the Lost Light’s Knight Quest… even as he says that he could keep the guy locked up until Rodimus and pals find the Knights. However, there are rules to this, and one of the rules is that Megatron must publicly denounce the Decepticon cause.

It is a slow and painful experience for everyone involved, as he reads the statement he was given. It’s an immediate call to action- or rather, inaction.

Geez, think they could’ve made it any more obvious that this was being ghostwritten? I can’t wait to see how long it takes for “Megatron was blackmailed into saying this by the Autobots” to be a plotpoint.

Outside the prison, Ratchet and Rodimus are taking in the brand new Rod Pod, which is genuinely ridiculous in how large it is. Rodimus admits to having taken Atomizer’s list, though he knows that trying to use it to keep those who voted him off would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

Also, no one’s told him about Megatron coming along on the trip. As captain.

Or you could, I dunno, lock him up from the start. Or, if you want to give him a chance to prove himself, slap him into a bottom-rung role, like bilge cleaner, or sewage mucker, or whatever the equivalent would be on a spaceship full of giant gay robots. We don’t have to give the guy any power to hold him to scrutiny— any minimum wage worker will tell you that scrutiny comes far harsher for those who actually carry out orders than those who give them.

But what do I know? I’ve never fought in a several million year war, and I don’t plan to.

Getting back to the list, it seems as if Ratchet and Rodimus are on the same wavelength, in that both agree it’s only going to cause trouble and hurt feelings to keep the thing around. Rodimus destroys it with his usual flare, only to be blindsided by the fact that it was fake this entire time. How does Ratchet know this?

Because his name wasn’t on it.

...Man, that’s gotta sting. No wonder Rodimus was upset enough to not take his calls.

In the present, everyone’s in a panic, as they all bolt for the shuttle bay and start pouring into shuttles. The Lost Light is disintegrating around them, which is sort of a problem. Despite this nightmare scenario happening, Rodimus and Megatron still find the time to be assholes to each other. That’s dedication right there.

As the two bicker, multiple shuttles zip away from the rapidly disappearing ship, including the Rod Pod.

Man, now it really is the Lost Light.

[vangoghmusings]

watch me

“Hey princess, are you ready?”

It had been several months after the embarrassment that was the “you said his name” incident. You would’ve never thought that 5 months later Daichi would be your boyfriend who not only supported your cam-girl career, but assisted with it. As by primal instinct to claim his territory, Daichi asked for an ultimatum. As long as you’re a cam-girl, he has to be a part of it. It truly was a winning situation all around. Daichi found a way to pay off his student loan debt and got to spend more time with you, and you got to continue your growing career all while getting playful with your boyfriend every Thursday. Everything had fallen into place.

“Almost!” You chimed while entering your bedroom. On your bed sat Daichi, adjusting the camera, bitting his lip in concentration.

“This new lens is so cool! We should snap some pictures when we go on our date to the zoo on Saturday.”

You grinned and sat beside him. Daichi was always planning cute dates for the two of you and new things to do. For the coming Saturday, he promised a day at the zoo with a picnic over looking the lake that was near by. He really was a sappy romantic.

“I’m ready when you are, we just need our masks.”

Daichi nodded, grabbing your classic mask and his black ski mask that became a staple for his “Cherry Daddy” brand. As students wanting to form your own careers in your majors, you decided it would be best to continue keeping your identities a secret.

Once you both put your masks on and positioned yourselves on the bed, you began the live stream.

“Hey everyone! It’s Cherry Baby here!”

“And Daddy.”

“And we have an extra special show for you all today!”

After doing your usual introductions and thank you’s for donations, Daichi pulled out the long awaited ‘special surprise’.

A brand new pair of fluffy hand cuffs.

“These are your favorite color right?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how he always acted so considerate, even during a scene.

“Yes they are,” you answered with a smile.

Daichi nodded proudly and proceeded to cuff your hands to the metal post of your bed, the chain linking around. It was a comprising position and from the little ‘ka-ching’ noises coming from the computer, the viewers seemed to like it just as much as Daichi did.

You hummed patiently, waiting for your boyfriends next move.

“Now let’s get these off you, hm princess?”

With gentle fingers, Daichi slid off your underwear and tossed them to the floor. He adjusted himself, kneeling along side you. He moved one knee to press against your heat, slowly moving it. The friction caused the already inkling wetness to grow. While Daichi pressed his constantly shifting knee against you, he loomed over your body with hungry eyes while he unbuttoned his shirt. He always dressed fancier for the streams as a sort of uniform because “you always have cool outfits, I need my own”.

You hissed as your wetness grew. Daichi loved a slow burn and to push your desires. You on the other hand, could wait for him to fuck you senseless.

The second Daichi tossed his shirt to the ground and got down on his elbows, picking up your legs and setting one on his shoulder and pushing the other one back, giving the camera a glorious view of your gleaming pussy.

“Mm, you’re so dirty, princess. Soaking wet just from my knee touching you?”

You whimpered, practically begging for him to do something more than tease you, even if you loved it.

In one swift robotic movement that had been done many times, Daichi lifted the hem of his mask and settled it right at the bridge of his nose. With a firm grip on your pushed out thigh, he buried his face in between your legs.

He was well practiced with you, but that’s what having a cam-show will do. His nose brushed against your yearning clit while his tongue ran along your folds.

“Fuck,” Daichi groaned against you, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you, “you always taste so fucking good.”

Daichi was obsessed with going down on you. Any chance he got, he always wanted to wear your thighs as earmuffs.

Your breath hitched as Daichi got more aggressive, dipping his tongue in your tight wet hole. The noises were absolutely lewd, but you, Daichi, and the viewers loved them.

You felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten, as small moans and pleas fell from your mouth. Tighter and tighter, so close to snapping and so quickly denied as Daichi pulled away and smirked down at your pouting face. Your thighs begged to close together to grant you so form of relief, but Daichi’s python grip kept your legs apart, allowing the camera to see how needy and wet your quivering pussy was.

“I was so close!”

“Now now princess, keep complaining and I won’t let you cum at all tonight.”

You frowned and nodded, shutting your mouth.

Daichi stood up and leisurely rid himself of his pants and boxers. His cock sprung out and hard, nearly slapping his stomach in anticipation. Your mouth watered at the sight and by hungry instinct you opened your mouth.

“What a good girl, always knowing what daddy wants.”

Daichi placed his hard length against your lips and you happily took him in your mouth. Humming lowly, you sucked and bobbed your head in rhythm, causing low groan to come out of Daichi.

“S-so good princess,” he said while lovingly caressing your cheek.

You felt heat rise to your face. Even during a stream Daichi managed to show how much he loved you.

With his free hand, Daichi reached down, and with a sudden yelp ripping through your throat causing you to gag around him, you felt Daichi’s thick fingers curl inside you. Daichi smirked, beginning to fuck you with his fingers, making scissoring motions in your tightness, stretching you out. You whimpered against his cock and Daichi moaned in response.

“Fuck princess, just like that,” he mumbled while thrusting harder into your mouth and fucking your soaking cunt with his digits.

And there it was again, the coil beginning to tighten in your belly. You were begging for it, pleading with your eyes for permission to chase that release. But once again Daichi denied you but slipping his fingers out.

He smirked at his fingers, admiring the slick and covered them. You watched while sucking as he licked his fingers clean.

“Mm,” he hummed, pleased with the taste. He sighed and looked down at you, who had slowed the pace of your bobbing head.

“Princess, you want daddy to make you feel good?”

Daichi pulled his saliva covered cock out of your mouth, a loud “pop” filling the room. You kicked your lips and nodded up at him, wishing you weren’t cuffed so you could ride him into the next day.

“Please sir,” you whined, trying your best to show Daichi your impressive puppy dog face from underneath your mask.

A hungry smirk spread across Daichi’s face as he gave a simple nod. Making his way back between your legs, he positioned his cock at your entrance.

You huffed, he loved making you wait.

“Beg for it princess.”

You whimpered in humiliation. He had denied you twice already and you were in no position to let that happen a third time, plus you were cuffed tightly to your bed.

“Please, please sir! I was your cock inside me so bad! I want you to stuff me full of your cock- oh!”

You yelled at the unexpected stretch as Daichi began to push his length into your tightness. He noticed your shocked state and have you a loving smile- right before pushing his entire length in you.

A cry ripped from your chest as you struggled inside of the cuffs. You were dying to reach out and touch him; mark him, pull his hair, anything to help this pleasurable pain.

Your whimpers quickly turned to moans as Daichi began to thrust harshly into you. There was a rhythm, but it was quick and rough and his hard length was hitting at your cervix with punctuation.

He was so good. He was always so good.

Daichi’s head fell back, moans falling from his lips as he continued to relentlessly fuck you. Today’s goal was to fuck you absolutely stupid, and he was dying to see it.

“C’mon princess, tell daddy how good you feel?”

You cried out happily as Daichi lifted a leg of yours onto his shoulder, anchoring himself while continuing to fuck you senseless.

“So good, so good, fuck daddy!”

Those were the only coherent words that could be made out before you turned into a complete babbling mess. Daichi was hitting your g-spot with a possessive strength.

And finally, the coil began to tighten again. Hard and stronger than before, you could feel it come to it peak. You could tell Daichi was close too as he grunted and but his lip as a way to keep himself from cumming.

“Cum for me princess, cum with daddy.”

You cried out happily as the coil finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you like a massive wave, striking you with immense pleasure.

But Daichi hadn’t come yet.

No, he was still hanging on, planning on fucking you past your orgasm and into your next.

“N-no please sir, it’s too much-“

And just like that your second orgasm hit you just as hard as the first. You moaned in bliss as your eyes rolled back. The sight was enough to push Daichi over the edge, as he came hot ropes of cum inside of you. He eventually slowed his pace, allowing you to both ride out your highs.

Once he pulled out, he placed a loving kiss on your lips and went to look at the masterpiece the too of you had created.

“Fuck princess, that looks so sexy.”

Daichi was referencing to your pussy, dripping his cum and still pulsing from the intense stimulation. He quickly grabbed the camera from its stand and gave a close up to your cum-stuffed cunt.

“Isn’t she pretty?”

You giggled softly as the computer buzzed with so many ‘ka-chings’ it sounded like one continuous ring.

Daichi set the camera back on its stand and uncuffed you, helping you get up slowly to sit up and say good bye.

“Thanks again for joining us today.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled and nodded, still dazed from your intense orgasms.

Daichi chuckled and turned back to the camera.

“I’m going to get Cherry Baby all cleaned up now. Have a good night Cherry pickers!”

Daichi waved and signed off, the camera shutting down.

“Our fans have the weirdest name,” you mumbled and rubbed your thighs.

Daichi laughed softly removing both his and your masks and scooped you into his arms.

“How are you feeling? Up for a bath before we go to Kenma’s for sundaes?”

You smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, we both need a bath. You did good job.”

Daichi smiled proudly and pecked your lips lovingly.

“So did you princess”

As Daichi carried you to the small bathroom of your apartment for hot shower, you could really only think of one think.

You really loved him.

[sitp-recs]

hi to my favourite tumblr! could you please recommend me the most romantic drarry fics you’ve ever read 🥰 tysm 🙈

Hi darling 💗 oof this was quite a challenge because most of what I read includes some level of angst. So I went for a few titles among my usual soft & comfort reads. I’m aware that “romantic” means different things to different people, so I hope these work for you!

A world just for us by nerakrose (2019, General, 2k)

Harry and Draco go flying and then…continue to go flying.

He Whose Hand and Eye Are Gentle by khalulu (2017, General, 5k)

Draco reads poems and sometimes writes them. Harry receives poems and sometimes reads them. Rutherford delivers poems via the scenic route. Wombat snores. Eventually, all comes together, with help from the foxes in red bibs and the sumo referee.

Ice Snakes, Glow-worms and Wolverine Stew by khalulu (2015, Mature, 8.4k)

Harry Potter apparently wants to talk to Draco about something, but odd events keep getting in the way of that conversation – and bringing them closer together. Featuring serpentine travels, misbehaving birds, dubious roofing projects, a gay beach, and an unexpected matchmaker.

Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (2020, Teen and Up, 9k) - est relationship magic

Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots. Leaving one life behind isn’t always a sacrifice, and sometimes the greatest good comes from embracing the people you love.

Along Came Potter by @huldrejenta (2016, Teen and Up, 9k)

Potter shows up at Draco’s flat. Then he shows up again, and again, and again.

Little Talks by @femmequixotic and noeon (2012, Explicit, 11k) - est relationship domesticity

Draco's been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he's sure it's just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.

Nobody by @dorthyanndrarry (2019, Teen and Up, 12k) - a bit angsty but soft!

Junior Auror Potter runs errands, takes witness interviews, does paperwork, and gets the coffee. Rarely, very rarely, he's sent out on the most routine calls, such as when Draco Malfoy misses a meeting with his parole officer. (Inspired by the song Nobody by Mitski)

Kill, Fuck, Marry by @lettersbyelise (2018, Explicit, 12k)

Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.”

Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

Shining, Like a Present by @bixgirl1 (2017, Explicit, 13k) - a kinky romance 😏

The discovery of a small silver box at the site of a case opens up new possibilities.

It's Friday (I'm in Love) by @punk-rock-yuppie (2018, Explicit, 16k)

At first, Draco only hangs out with them on Fridays after work; then he starts shagging Potter after pub nights. Then all the rest of the gang tries to befriend Draco and even worse, Potter tries to date him. It’s an absolute disaster, if you ask Draco. Or, Draco and Harry fall in love over the course of several Fridays and some other days of the week.

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by @cibeewastaken (2020, Teen and Up, 19k)

Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved! So Draco decides to boldly go where no one has gone before: to put himself through scrutiny; their friends’ teasing and pranks; unsound romantic advice from a house-elf; wearing pretty clothes; all to try and win Potter’s heart through courtship.

(An unnamed ginger bastard can be heard yelling from afar: “This is actually a detailed guide on how not to court someone!”). But who cares about the opinions of redheads? Literally no one.

amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (2019, Explicit, 21k) - period drama wooing! The best

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by sugar_screw (2016, Teen and Up, 22k) - coffee shop AU goodness

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

(You’re a) Revolution by @rockmarina (2019, Mature, 23k) - a bit angsty but soft!

Eight years after the end of the war, Draco Malfoy stumbles into Harry’s shop in the middle of a storm—no wand, no backstory; no signs of having lived in the country since the Battle of Hogwarts. During their first encounter, Harry promises Malfoy—and the words sound like an old mantra—that he'll figure out Draco's secrets eventually. And then he does. He does, except…it doesn't quite feel like a victory.

Against All Odds by momatu (2015, Explicit, 53k) - wooing by sightseeing!

Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

Stately Homes of Wiltshire by waspabi (2016, Explicit, 57k) - magical houses romance

Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Headlights in the Snow by Saras_Girl (2016, Mature, 70k) - odd jobs romance

What’s big and purple and smells like tea? Harry is about to find out.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by dustmouth and nerakrose (2018, Teen and Up, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry. Features: Little League Quidditch, an abundance of bath bombs, happy endings, and gay robots in space.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (2018, Explicit, 104k) - wooing by cooking!

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

[neko-rogers]

72 Hours

You only have 72 hours to detain Steve Rogers. He’s the only opportunity you can get to find out what happened and why half of the population mysteriously disappeared.

word count: 3,168

tags: eventual dark!steve rogers and non-con; however, none much in this chapter but plot and interaction

    Things escalated so quickly.

    Ever since half of the world population had suddenly disappeared, which left fewer people walking around the streets of Manhattan, your job had become stressful yet so useless. The rest of the investigative crew are close to giving up and adapting to what has been left.

    Meanwhile, here you were. Neither convinced nor ready to accept the fact that most of your friends and family have vanished.

    Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. By now, the withdrawal is coming close to a year and a half. Yet the clues you have gathered merely comprises for a month of effort.

    “You should be giving up on this already.” Two of your colleagues walk behind you, either of them comforting your bothered state by rubbing your back as a gesture to cheer up. The hint of hopelessness in their tone bothers you more than their initial intention.

    “I doubt you will be solving one of the biggest mysteries of the world yet,” they state with an implication of humor before pulling back. From the corner of your vision, you could see their jackets folded neatly and hung on top of their arms. Just as their uniforms remained pressed, it conveys that they were already prepared to check out of their shift.

    “But hey, if you do solve it, let us know. We’ll be more than supportive and grateful for your efforts, Agent.”

    “Thanks. I hope so,” your voice was soft, resisting to show any sign of weakness or vulnerability despite on the verge of breaking down on the inside.

    Within a few minutes, the office was left noiseless. Most of the officers who had day shifts proceeded to depart by the hour until you and two others have remained.

    For you, it did not matter whether you got paid for overtime from your original schedule. Since you did not have anyone to look forward to when coming home, you preferred to spend most of your hours at work, searching for a way to somehow bring them back.

    The chances were so odd and slim. The fact that all your families and friends near your location were wiped out. You could not do anything since you did not know who caused all this disaster, let alone the reasons behind the disappearances.

    As your elbows were resting on top of your desk, your head fell onto both your palms. A big sigh was released from your lips countless times already. This wasn’t just getting lonely anymore, you were obsessing over something that was far from your reach.

    The plain screensaver of the bureau’s logo was dancing over your desktop. Along with several pictures, specifically one or more for each member of the well-known extra-terrestrial fighting group of Avengers. Their superhero names were scribbled with red ink and pinned onto a small corkboard.

    Tony Stark.

    The name haunted you to your dreams. The billionaire who brought good and bad things into New York City.

     You are not entirely sure why your guts were forcing you to focus on this man amongst the rest of his alliance. But you were just desperate to cling onto any evidence blindly hanging in front of you.

    For the entirety of the event, you haven’t had a single report about him. Assuming that he’s been trying to hide from this mess, you tried contacting other bureaus from across the world in search of the man. For months of being very pushy, you have only been getting the same phrases like a broken record.

    ‘I’m sorry, Agent.’

    ‘No. We haven’t had any reports about Tony Stark.’

    ‘My crew has been trying their best, but there aren’t any traces of him.’

    ‘We assure you we’ll find him sooner or later, Agent.’

    ‘Please be patient, we don’t have much manpower here anymore.’

    For months, you have been at the edge of your seat. Eager to answer the phone at the first ring. If it’s not considered patient then soon enough it’s going to run out. You did not know what backup plan you have once that does happen though.

    Maybe going crazy would ironically be the sanest thing to happen.

    Nevertheless, you will eventually cross that bridge when you get there. For now, the only option you have is to overwork yourself to the edge of insanity.

    “A long day you got there, Agent?” A subordinate of yours passes by with two cups of coffee in her hand. She sets down the other right beside your computer screen and glances at the pictures splayed across your work area.

    You groan, a frown still evident as you sat up straight before replying, “Oh tell me about it, I’ve had the longest year.”

    She gave you a warm smile, like always around this time of evening. Though only being hired recently after a month of the mysterious disappearing arc, she continued to attend to her shift and adapt as the others would. And despite almost a year of greeting, and often bringing you a cup of coffee, you never really gave any of your attention to her.

    This time though, you looked back just as she was about to leave. You were quick enough to get a glance of her name plastered on her identification card connected to a lanyard that draped around her collar.

    Agent Maria Hill.

    “Agent Hill,” you addressed her. She turned around with a smile, looking neatly as ever with her hair combed and pinned in a neat bun.

    “Yes?”

    "Thanks for the coffee, like every night." Your gratitude combines with a warming smile that reaches out for her. Though appearing exhausted from staring at a screen and documents for hours, you tried to look your best when facing her.

    "It's no big deal." Her reply trails down to murmur a few indistinctive words that you merely brushed off, assuming that it was nothing but a nice gesture.

    Before her figure could entirely exit the vicinity of your workplace, you swiftly chirped, "And thanks for being so nice to me!" A chuckle was heard from her, leaving off with a smile as she walked away without responding anything in return.

    Immediately, your mood shifted again returning to your usual distressed state of mind.

    The coffee you drank earlier was wearing off from your system. You could drink the cup your colleague had offered, but you figured it could not do much now that your body could only harbor caffeine to such an extent. A twelve-hour shift with merely half an hour of lunch break would not leave you, or anyone, at best. By sooner, your eyelids were getting heavy, risking to doze off at work.

    Your fingers reached to move your mouse, dragging the cursor along with the useless mail your inbox has been receiving. Each of them took that least bit of hope of finding Stark, making you feel caged and haunted every day as there is not any progress in a year.

    Again, you groan, louder this time. Other agents around could have heard you yet shrugged your frustration casually since they have witnessed it for months. You ball your fists and slam it against your desk, rough enough to make a sound echo throughout the room, but not enough to break it into two.

    “Fuck, I need the rest,” you admit to yourself.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

    24 hours

    Days have passed. Like usual – nothing.

    As always, your routine started just as you were walking to the agency. However, amidst peacefully walking at the pavement, trying to get even a hint of peace of mind, the phone tucked inside the pocket of your jacket started ringing.

    The name of your agency was the first thing you have noticed as you faced the small screen. Moreover, you did not hesitate to slide the green phone button to answer.

    “Hel–”

    Just as you were about to offhandedly greet the person at the other line, they made their way to cut the conversation fearfully.

    “They found him! They found him, Agent!” The fearful yet impressed tone was evident, and eventually, you realized that the familiar voice belonged to Agent Hill.

    Nonetheless, your mind started wandering to different scenarios, jumping to conclusions like a kid. Despite barely hearing anything other than they caught someone, you were sure looking as joyful as ever. It was as if every bit of hope you lost each week have been restored.

    For a short while of daydreaming, you have recovered quickly. Moreover, inquire about the context of what she’s trying to refer to. “What do you mean you’ve found him, Hill?”

    Your heart raced quickly. The tension behind finding out who it was was far from the reality of it being a pause for mere seconds.

    Please say you have found Stark. Your mind could only pray harder for those words to be repeated from the other end of the call.

    “The team found one of the members of the Avengers,” she answers.

    “Which one of them?”

    “It’s Steve Rogers.”

    Your world partly crumbled after hearing a different name compared to what you were expecting. Nevertheless, happy enough that you were progressing on the vision you have laid out.

    “Hold on, I’ll be at the station in a few minutes.” You assert, turning around the corner of a street you were approaching. From here, there was a fair five-minute jog until your office. Considering that it was early morning, you did not hesitate to start speeding your pace.

    Right now, as if things escalated so quickly

    Once you arrived, you passed vacant offices until reaching the interrogation room. The other officers were gathered outside it, facing the two-way mirror that displayed the known Captain America.

    Maria Hill was standing closest to the mirror. Getting the best view of the super-soldier sitting peacefully inside the room. You approached her with a confused look upon your face.

    “How did you even find him?”

    “It’s a long story, there were two of them though we could only catch up with Mr. Rogers,” she explains.

    “Alright.” You motioned for your other colleagues to return to their original tasks. Both you and Agent Hill were left, given privacy to talk about what should be done.

    “Give me a moment with him, I’ll try to see what information we can get.” Agent Hill nods at you and hands over a folder. She gestures for you to take a step inside the room and reassures that she will be outside to act as a witness.

    As you enter the room, it felt colder in addition to the resentful stare coming from Captain America himself. His gaze does not leave you, following your trail up until you reach the metal chair and take a seat in front of him.

    Your back begins to sweat even after barely interacting with him. You did not know what could happen. For all you know, he could rip his handcuffs and beat your face over the table.

    Nonetheless, you tried to look as assertive as possible. Adjusting your posture to feel comfier in your seat and clasped both palms of your hands over each other. You look in front, seeing the man still staring at you.

    You took a deep breath to prepare yourself “Nice to see you in Manhattan again, Mr. Rogers.” Your voice was close to breaking, but you disregarded it. This is your nearest encounter with a superhero, so it would be normal for anyone to feel pressured.

    The soldier raises one eyebrow at your greeting. He pulls back and slumps on his chair, acting as if he’s the one probing the detainee. “Been keeping track of me, ma’am?”

    The tone of his voice instantly became cocky. Even so, smirking while his gaze shifts from the floor and back at you.

    “I have been keeping track of the Avengers for these past months,” you affirm. To prevent a boost of ego in his system, you also added, “But I wasn’t specifically keeping my eye on you, Captain.”  

    He imitates an offended look, placing one of his cuffed hands over his left chest. “Ouch. Was expecting a pretty woman like you tracking down America’s Golden Boy.”

    “Nonetheless, do tell me which one of us were you looking for. Is it Stark?” You tried to ignore his mood swings. The sudden change of being quiet, then proceeding to act hurt, and now seeming provoked even if you had not given any answers yet.

    You figured it was best to ignore his question.

    “Mr. Rogers, may I know what you were doing here in Manhattan and who you were with–”

    “I asked you a question first,” he reminds.

    “Look, sir, I don’t think it will help if I’m the one answering questions here,” you sigh. “So if you could please cooperate with us.”

    “Cooperate? Why would I?” He scoffs. “You can only detain me here for seventy-two hours at most. Considering that you have no evidence against me, you can only hope to pray for a miracle.”

    His attitude was not at all welcoming. Your blood started to boil at the man seated in front of you, acting as if he is completely innocent about all this.

    “Is it true that you aren’t withholding any information about the disappearance of half of the world population?” You argue with a brow raised at him.

    “I know nothing,” the man answers.

    “And if you do know something, that’s obstruction of justice. You know that right, Captain?”

    He smiles faintly. This time he breaks his stare, looking at the floor while answering, “Yes I do, ma’am. Very well.”

    His expressions were starting to drive you crazy. You were used to this kind of scenario back when things were normal. Though after the events transpired, it has been a year without you interrogating someone who was held inside this room. You’ve gotten subpar upon looking like an intimidating officer.

    “Okay then.” You nod, “Can you explain to me why you and your accomplice tried to run away from the cops.”

    “We didn’t,” he said, ever so boldly. “Your friend, over there, spotted us and tried to cuff us immediately. Which one of you thought that was a good idea?”

   Your gaze follows onto the large mirror placed near the door of the room. You could only see both you and Steve Rogers, but you knew Agent Hill was at the other side listening to your conversation.

    “Look, half of the population mysteriously disappeared,” you sigh in between, “it’s not something a normal person would be able to perform. Can you blame us for following up on the Avengers?”

    “I guess not then, ma’am.” He nods, accepting your statement. “Still won’t change the fact that I have no idea about all these disappearances, yeah?”

    “Right, then tell me who were you with before Agent Hill decided to detain you here.” You lean back while crossing both your arms against your chest. Your teeth lightly bit the insides of your cheeks as you tried to hold out a frustrated sigh.

    “Well, I was with Nat,”

    “Nat? Natasha Romanoff?” You raise your chin, intrigued to find out more. “Five-foot five, Russian assassin, shoulder-length vermillion hair, Natasha Romanoff?”

    “That’s impressively accurate.” Steve Rogers chuckles in front of you again before adding, “Except that she’s blonde now.”

    You tried to take in a few minutes to grasp the information. The silence prods through your thoughts as you analyze the possibilities, perceiving that maybe, just maybe, you’re a few steps closer to Tony Stark.

    But the man disrupted your thoughts, “Still don’t know why you’re holding us custody despite all this. You won’t get anything, might as well cut to the chase.”

    “You’re quite a smart-mouth there, Captain.”

    “And you’re quite eager to find about Stark, Agent,” he mocks. You throw your head back in defeat. This was going nowhere and both of you knew it.

    Instead, you push against the table so you could finally stand up. You rest both your palms flat against the cold metal table, arms stretched wide to balance your weight out.     “I think that’s enough for today.” You grab the untouched folder before turning to your side to walk towards the door. “Thank you for trying to cooperate with us, Mr. Rogers.”

    As you head out, you noticed that Agent Hill was already out of sight. She most likely headed to do her job rather than to stand and watch you and Steve exchange nonsense.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

    As you get home, you dressed into casual home clothes and headed to bed.

    You could not entirely fall asleep. The super-soldier was stuck in your mind, frustrating you into the depths of it.

    You tried to ponder, grabbing the folder of compiled documents that Agent Hill handed you over earlier. As you opened it, the first layer of it was pictures of Steve Roger’s face throughout the week. You guessed that they were not just trailing him today, but also studied his moves for the past week.

    Furthermore, you flipped through pictures of him and his crew, but they looked like they were not in taken in New York. It was dark and the faces of Steve, Natasha, two other persons in the background could be seen fairly.

    “Huh.” You furrowed your eyebrows realizing that there were more details about them that you expected. For a while also wondering why Hill did not updated you about these at least.

    But eventually you acknowledged that you were so busy figuring out information about Tony Stark, that you forgot that the other superheroes he has worked with were just as significant.

    Steve Rogers. Natasha Romanoff. Sam Wilson.     Location: Edinburgh, Scottland     21:32. April 2018

    Steve Rogers. Natasha Romanoff.     Location: Manhattan, New York     13:05. October 2019

    His beard remained almost the same despite the year difference. His golden hair was brushed backed sleekly. His appearance was still alike a year ago which meant that he was trying to maintain that kind of appearance

    Compared to his clean, shaved aura back in 2012, you can admit that he looks way more intimidating now. You did not know whether he was trying to look different to prevent the bureau from recognizing him or if it was because he wanted to look like some creepy degenerate.

    Nonetheless, there were a lot of questions running around your mind. It was only tonight when you finally got to grasp on who and what you’re dealing with.

    However, your comprehensive scanning was interrupted after hearing a tap on your window. It did not sound as terrifying as it would, but it was loud enough to interrupt your thoughts from getting further.

    In the end, you set the files on top of your nightstand and switched on your lamp. You lay in your bed, eyes sealed shut yet your mind still wanders off, trying to fit together the pieces of the puzzle.

    When drifting to sleep, the most evident question strayed:

    Why was Steve Rogers, and his team, staying in Manhattan, despite hiding completely undisturbed in Edinburgh?

[akatsukinojutsu]

a dinner for two -- uchiha obito

a/n: so sorry this is so late, itachi and obito were at a tie, so have some obito!

Spending your days alone with no close family is tough, especially around holiday time... Obito understands. So, he decides to do something good for you to help lighten the heaviness. -- THIS IS FOR MY HOLIDAY PROMPT CONTEST!

*sigh*

You huffed out a depressed breath as you sat at your window with an elbow propped up on the frame. It was holiday time and this was always the hardest part for you because it reminded you just how alone you really were.

Sure - you had Obito. But he was busy running around preparing for his huge plan. It was only occasionally that he was able to drop in and check on you. It was usually for just a night, however. There was only time for some tea, some sex, and a few cuddles.

It had been a month since the last time the two of you had been together and he was due for a visit. Your eyes flickered across the room to read the clock on the wall. The eyes of the black kitten clock flicked right to left, right to left as you studied the time. It was nearly 9:00 PM and you had an early morning the next day for shinobi errands. You just assumed that he wasn’t coming and you decided to head to bed.

Obito cursed under his breath as his duties of lowkey running the Akatsuki held him up. He lied to Pain and Konan as to why he needed to flee at such a moment’s notice. Obito pushed it onto a serious matter. Which it was. He had a date.

There wasn’t much time left in the night and he knew that you’d most likely be asleep by now. He quickly transported him to outside of your home and right onto your patio. He peered into your window through his mask, his warm breath wafted from under his disguise and fogged the window up. Obito sighed when he saw that you were asleep and cursed at himself.

Then the Uchiha remembered just how hard this time of the year was for you and it made him feel even more like shit. He knew what it was like to lose everything and be alone. Obito knew that he was all that you really had. You had few friends and no family. And you lived alone in a small cottage just outside of Konohagakure.

 Then an idea slammed into him like a train -- that’s it! He will make tonight something special. He will make it up to you!

Obito snuck his way into your home by quietly pulling the patio’s glass door to the right and slipped in. Due to his extraordinary shinobi skills, he was able to sneak in without stirring you. Obito made his way to your kitchen and searched through your cabinets to only find you had nothing but some noodles plus some dried vegetables. He made the mental note to bring you some food in the future.

‘Not much but I can work with it,’ Obito thought to himself. Of course each cabinet door creaked loudly every time he opened them. As the doors creaked, he would clench his teeth and cower his head as he slowly pulled them open. His head would whip to your sleeping body frequently to ensure that you were still asleep.

Quietly yet quickly, Obito was able to get most of his cooking done. He boiled the noodles and vegetables in a makeshift broth that he created with various spices in your cupboards.

The smell of the cooking broth and noodles slowly woke you from your slumber. You yawned and stretched while your kicked your legs around in the bed. Your nose sniffed the air with several, ‘sniff sniff’s. Your cottage was all in on single open room besides the bathroom, so you were able to directly see into the kitchen. 

Your defenses triggered as you witnessed this unwelcomed stranger dressed in black standing in your kitchen and who appeared to be cooking on your stove. You grabbed your pillow and quietly pushed yourself out of bed. Your footsteps were nearly silent as you tip toed closer to the intruder with pillow firmly clenched in your grasp.

“Got you!” you screamed as you pressed the pillow into the face of the stranger. pulled in, and attempted to suffocate them with the soft fabric. Obito flailed around and you proceeded to jump onto his back. He tried to buck you off of his back as he slammed you into the wall. (he knew that you’d be fine) You were knocked off of his back and fell to the floor. Obito turned around and the two of you locked eyes. 

“What the fuck, Obito?!” you cursed out as you rubbed your back while you pushed yourself up from the floor. “Me -- what the fuck?! You’re the one who attacked me!?” He removed his mask and placed it on the counter. His unconcealed dark orbs locked onto yours and in an instant he was on you.

His hands roamed your frame and his tongue was quick to find its way into your mouth. The two of you exchanged some passionate kisses and ruffled each other’s clothing. The sound of the broth and noodles boiling over the pot and sizzling on the hot coils broke the two of you away from one another. Obito yelped and jumped to the stove to save the food. He practically chucked the pot into the sink and chuckled nervously. 

“Making dinner?” you asked as you pushed yourself onto your toes to peek into the sink. Obito shooed you away as he tended to his noodle mess. He then searched through some cupboards in search of some bowls. “Top shelf, honey,” you stated in a snarky tone. Obito chose to ignore and not retort. He scooped the noodles into the bowls and walked to your short table in the same room. He set yours down first and then his, he lent his hand out to the open cushion on the opposite side of the table. “Come enjoy,” he smiled, his eyes squinted with glee.

You obeyed and sat down on the cushion. Your eyes examined the brown broth and took a deep breath in of the delicious smelling food. “Thank you, Obito. You didn’t h-,” he stopped you with a hand raise, “I want to apologize for not being able to come see you lately.” Obito leaned in with a smile on his lips and fist under his chin, “I plan to make it up to you.” Your brows raised and your lips formed a seductive smile before you took a sip of the hot soup.

Your face grew red and you pressed your first three fingertips to your lips. Obito pulled back to a straight sitting position and his face grew worried. His brows furrowed in confusion, “Is it as bad as I thought it would be?” he looked down to his bowl and then back to you.

You started to chuckle with a wide smile, “No! No! Thi-this is really good, Obito! I didn’t know you could make edible things...” He smiled during your compliment but rolled his eyes to your second half.

The two of you enjoyed your meal in a bit of silence. Obito finished and  pushed himself up from the floor, walked over to you, and plopped down right beside where you sat.

He lifted his right hand to meet your soft face. His rough fingertips rubbed circles on your skin and he leaned in closer to smell your hair. Shivers ran down his spine at your skin and rippled chills out through his skin. You turned your head to face him but he pushed it away with his index finger. His lips hovered just right above your neck and his hot breath cause you to shudder under his grasp.

In a flash, Obito was on top of you and pushed you to the floor. However, his hand was behind your head to cradle it from bouncing off the floor. Hunger to taste you growled through Obito’s chest. You laid the under him with your cheeks flushed with a blush. Obito was propped up on his knees and looked down to you -- and you up to him.

He dropped onto his palms with his nose lightly touching the tip of yours. His dark orbs studied your face and the sentence that he spoke would forever resound in your mind for the rest of your years.

“Will you marry me, [Y/N]?

It was as if your heart stopped beating and your breathing ceased. You stared up to Obito with a deer in the headlights expression. Your silence concerned him as he pulled away from you and attempted to stand. But you quickly grabbed hold of his wrist and yanked him back down to you. Your legs wrapped around his lower half and you pulled him down close to yourself.

You hugged him tightly and pressed your lips to Obito’s ear. “Yes,” you whispered.

Obito smiled, his white teeth shined with joy. His arms wrapped around your waist and he proceeded to carry you to your bed. He stopped for a moment once he came to a stand and stared at you for a moment before giving you a kiss. 

“You’ll never have to spend another holiday alone, [Y/N].”

[nintendousimp]

Train of Thought...

Part:1 Getting Caught

Master 👉Next

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader, Miya Atsumux Reader.

Character: Gender Neutral! or I want to everyone to feel comfortable so any pronouns welcomed for this story.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Some angst and colorful language, mentions of cheating and getting caught in the action, mentions of also thinking to forgive unfaithful partner, some grammar errors 😅 ( I need to emphasize this by saying that English is not my first language and although my English is great I still have a lot of trouble so constructive criticism is welcomed 🥰)

Word Count: 2k

Released date: January 19th 2021

I feel like I need to emphasize that all of the characters in this story are aged up! I’m not comfortable with talking about sexual topics if the characters are still in high school and are underage so,this is a timeskip!😅

Before we go any further into the story, I plan to post part 2 of this! Part 2 will take me a bit longer to post due to personal matters but it will be posted!

Enjoy my first ever Haikyuu x Reader Fic!!!

——————————————————————-

You’ve been working late into the night for the past few months so he must’ve thought that this would be your same routine from your previous nights. He's always been a careful person. He knows you have your location on. He always knows where you are but not just for your safety but to also bring her over.

He knows this is wrong. He loves you and knows he could've talked to you about maybe spending less time at work and maybe make a bit more time for him. Atsumu knows that your work is important and he's not gonna take advantage of you like that, especially when you come home from work tired, and with his volleyball schedule and his career you guys barely got to spend time with each other.

He wants to stop this but his need never stops. He knows what he has with her is just something done out of lust and that’s it. Atsumu only wants her around just to make his cock feel good and that’s it. He's already made it very clear he does not plan to leave you and to not get any crazy ideas.

He thought that tonight would be just like any other. He couldn’t have known that you were on your way home. He couldn’t have possibly remembered that today of all days was the release day of your book that you've put months of work into. Who knew that by mistake you left your phone at the office. All he knew at that moment was that your best friend's pussy takes him so well.

As you were driving your way home all you could think about is to hug your husband and yell to the world that you've finally finished your first written work! You felt such accomplishment that this book that you've put all your heart, sweat, and tears into was finally released! So many people believed in your dream but you felt you really couldn’t have done it without the love and support from your husband.

There have been many times where you felt like you haven't been given Atsumu much attention. You've been working long hours and at times late into the night to get this book out before the deadline you've been given. All those hours of hard work you felt paid off, now all that’s left to do is celebrate and who to celebrate better than your husband. After all, he's the inspiration behind your book.

You get out of your car making your way towards the entrance of your house. You notice a car that you've seen before but you can't remember where, so you just brush it off and make your way to the door. As you're unlocking the main entrance door, you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The house is dark and there's no one in the living area, I mean what did you expect its one in the morning. You were going about your routine trying to not wake Atsumu up when you hear some strange noises coming from your shared master.

As you're approaching the hallway that leads to your room, you've noticed the noises are starting to sound a lot more like sexual moans. Your first thought would've been that Atsumu might've fallen asleep while watching porn, and you'd believe that. But these moans sounded too real to be coming from the tv in your shared bedroom. You can see from the small gap underneath the door that the lights are still on.

You're getting ready to enter your room when you notice that the door is slightly open. If only someone were to prepare you for what you were about to see. As you enter the room you see what no woman ever wants to go through. Your husband Atsumu on top of another woman.

"I can never see myself with anyone that wasn’t my husband," you said.

Who would’ve thought that my marriage was falling apart… not me right?

Have I been so oblivious this whole time?

How long has this been going on? The question I proceeded to ask myself...

How did I not see this coming?

But now that you saw everything with your own eyes, you realized you’ve put all the pieces to a puzzle you didn’t even know you were solving.

Today was publishing day and you were gonna surprise Tsumu by coming home after the book release, you would have called but your phone may have been misplaced somewhere in your office. You didn’t have time to go back to the office, you’ve been missing Tsumu a lot. But the surprise you got when you entered your shared bedroom and watched as your husband was on top of another woman was not something you ever expected to happen.

As you stood there watching your husband fuck another woman and not just any woman but your best friend all you could think about was, Atsumu the man that promised to be with you for the rest of your life was in your bed fucking your best friend. You want to be angry, you want to run and scream at them, you want to ask why they did it. Not that any explanation would fix anything, you just couldn’t say anything. As you stood there for what felt like a lifetime. Did you lose your train of thought? Did you forget how to talk?

He finally notices that you’ve been standing there. He panics and gets off your best friend as he tries making his way towards you.  All you could think to do at that moment was to just close the door and run out of the house towards your car and make your way out of there. You started driving with no destination in mind, you just wanted to be anywhere away from this bomb. As you're driving, you end up taking the route that leads you to Akaashi’s place. You get out of the car and make your way towards his door.

It’s like you came here out of instinct.

How can you not when you guys have been working on this project for the past several months. He’s a great editor and a great friend too! He appreciates your hard work! You remember when you told him that you wanted to give writing another try and had an idea for a book he immediately offered his services as an editor. He’s always offered his help to you. Even goes out of his way to help you research some titles or genres that you could find interest in writing. He’s a great guy and you’ve grown very close to him.

Now you’re at Keijis place late in the hours of the night. You decided that you couldn’t do this by yourself so you knock on his door.

“Y/N are you alright, What are you doing out so late?” He asks.

You shake your head no. How were you gonna tell Akaashi your world was falling apart. He’s your editor, he shouldn’t need to know that your husband just cheated on you with your best friend.

“Would you like to come in? We can talk about whatever is troubling you?”

He doesn’t give you a second to answer before he grabs your hand and guides you to the living room. He has you sit on his sofa while he makes you both some tea. Some time has passed since you arrived at Akaashi’s, you’re telling him everything that happened an hour prior to being there. Akaashi is tracing small circles on your back. He tells you that this wasn’t your fault and you're not one to blame here and that

“Hey Y/N?”

“Did you say something Keiji?” Y/N says looking up from his shoulder. He can tell they’ve been crying. Akaashi hated seeing them like this. These past several months, he got to know Y/N as a very kind and goal-minded person. He saw someone who only strived to make her and other’s visions come to reality. The months Akaashi spent with Y/N were by far the best few months of his life. He would never tell Y/N that.t He hates that the book is done because now they won’t get to spend as much time together as they used to.

The months he’s been with her he got to spend a lot of time getting to know her world. He observed the way she would get when she had writer’s block. The number of times he’s watched her get frustrated at how she didn’t like the ending of a chapter for the book. He saw how countless nights she felt helpless and wanted to quit. She would fall into a negative state where she convinced herself she wasn’t a good writer. He also saw the nights where she would vent to him about Atsumu becoming distant once again. NIghts where they would drown themselves with work just so they didn’t think about crying.

He saw all of that. Nights where y/n needed Atsumu. Late nights where he was fucking his wife’s best friend.

“What’s your next move?” Akaashi asked.

“I think the best thing right now is for me to go home and get an explanation”

Your expression is giving regret all over it. How were you gonna go back home and look Atsumu in the face? What more could he explain that you don’t already know? You keep going back and forth between blaming yourself more than blaming him. You want to put this in your head as if it was your fault. But you know deep down that if Atsumu really loves you like he says he does he wouldn’t have cheated. At the end of the day, he cheated on you, not the other way around.

“I think I'm gonna call Yachi and see if she’s okay with me spending a few nights at her place just until I figure out what I’m gonna do. In the meantime, I gotta get back home.”

You sigh, you're getting ready to get up when Akaashi takes a hold of your hand

“Wait Before you go, I have a suggestion for tonight if you’d like to hear”

Akaashi doesn’t want you going alone but he also feels as if he’s overstepping his boundaries. He knows this is none of his business but why does he feel like it is?

“How about we go get some of your things and you spend the night here?”

It was a nice offer from Keiji, but you already feel like a burden. He’s been so kind as to listen to you, you just don’t wanna cause him any more trouble.  

“ I appreciate the offer Keiji but I don’t wanna wrap you up in my troubles.”

“ Y/N you’re no trouble, I just want you to know that you’re more than welcomed to stay here.” Akaashi knew you’d reject his invitation. He knows you’re not the type of person to rely on others' help, you’re a giver not a taker after all.

“Can you promise me if you don’t wanna be there with Atsumu you’ll call me and come here?” Akaashi the overthinker, always worrying about others.

“ I promise I’ll call you Keiji, if anything happens I promise to come back here.” The answer appeases him, he lets your hand go.

“Thank you Y/N Can I walk you out?” You nod and make your way towards the entrance door.

“Thank you for having me over at this time of night..” before you could finish your sentence, you were pulled into Akaashi’s arms.

“You don’t have to thank me Y/N, I’m glad you trust me enough to open up about what happened.”

You don’t know why but his words are making you feel safe. You trust Keiji, he’s not the type of guy to hurt anybody.

You thank Akaashi again as he walks you to your car “ Can I check on you tomorrow?”

You reply with a nod “ See you tomorrow Keiji.”

Both of you say your goodbyes. As you’re leaving Akaashi’s house, you can’t help but feel nervous about the conversation you were about to have with your husband. What was gonna happen with your marriage? Can this be forgiven? Questions that kept plaguing your head. Only one question stuck out more than the others…

Do I wanna divorce Atsumu?

Summary:

L/N F/N a young adult working on their first ever book with the help of editor and friend (Akaashi). Discovers that their husband has been cheating on them for the past few months that they’ve  been working nonstop. Heartbroken y/n decides to drown herself in their work. Will they be able to Forgive their cheating husband from his infidelity or will they approach the man who fell in love with them while working on their book?

© All fiction rights of the story belong to @nintendousimp​

Characters belong to the Haruichi Furudate.

[honorguk]

STRAY KIDS REACTION » you break up with him

.•° ✿ °•. navigation

»•» CHAN

the relationship had it’s highs and lows, yet it was everything that you could ever ask for - chan was loving, gave the best advice, and was always there the second you need him, but none of that has been shown as of late.

for a few months on end now he’s been hanging around late at the studio, overworking himself and coming home, instantly falling into bed; otherwise he’d go out with his friends for a few drinks and come back even later than before, making him more stressed and frustrated when you’d try and talk to him about anything the morning after.

“chan, would you please just listen to me?”

“who are you to think that you’ve got a say about what i do with my life?”

his job was always the priority, which was understandable from one angle, but that meant he neglected everything around him that mattered, and everybody that mattered, too.

finally, after dozens of useless arguments and fights, you’d have made up your mind, and nothing could change it.

“you’re not as ready for a relationship as you thought you were,” would be your last words to the man, who was left shattered on the floor with his heart in his hands after realizing just how much he lost.

»•» MINHO

it was all because of a party, and a stupid lie.

minho asked you if you’d come with him to his high school reunion get together and you cheerfully agreed, not having been out to a party in a while. 

you were having such a fantastic time and getting along with his old friend group when suddenly, a tall, attractive woman would join the group, and you saw minho’s eyes glaze over in discomfort. you squinted your eyes at him a little, something you’d do to non-verbally ask ‘what’s wrong’, but he just shook his head in response.

it wasn’t long after that when she’d start making moves on him, and dragged him out to dance. being the kind man he is, he muttered a hushed apology to you and went over to the dance floor, where he was getting pulled closer and closer until you spotted how the woman’s lips forcefully connected with his.

you were left in shock as your boyfriend pushed her away and rushed over to you, explaining how she was his ex and nobody knew about his new girlfriend - you. no, he didn’t want the kiss, no, he didn’t enjoy it - minho felt guilty as your lip trembled and you both left the reunion.

the next few weeks were strangely rough - every time you looked at minho you kept seeing his ex and comparing yourself. the boy would constantly remind you of how much better you are, and his ex was a complete waste of time, but he soon got tired of reassuring you, and you couldn’t handle the jealousy and guilt.

“i’ll wait for you, for when you’re ready..” minho said finally after spending hours convincing you to stay, but he couldn’t change your mind. he was so in love with you and so desperate to make you see that, but a mental barrier stopped you from enjoying your relationship as much as him, so with a quick kiss and a few more pleading cries from minho you were out the door.

»•» CHANGBIN

sometimes, being nice wasn’t a good thing, and changbin definitely made that clear.

you’d often come to the studio and hang around at the backstage of award shows, and whenever changbin wasn’t around, some other trainees and even idols would try and make their moves on you, you only disregarding their flirting as kindness and proceeding to make conversation.

it got on changbin’s nerves, it really did. he was so fearful of losing you that he became overprotective, and lead to his own downfall.

he’d be more judgy of your friends, more needy when you’re not around, and much more in love than ever before, making his fear so much more prominent.

it wasn’t something you could handle, but you really tried. you tried to distance yourself from the people that had been keeping contact with you solely to flirt, and tried to spend more time with your clingy boyfriend, but this was your life, not anybody else’s.

you were tired.

“changbin, i’m sorry,” was the only thing you could muster out after a fight, before leaving the man stranded, enveloped by his worst fear.

»•» HYUNJIN

right at the start of the relationship it was sailing all-so-smoothly until you had to leave korea to study in an american university. of course, neither of you were confident about you long distance relationship skills, but you were willing to try.

hyunjin did his best to be the most amazing boyfriend ever, he really did, but the physical distance between the two of you made the emotional distance appear as well. 

god, both of you tried so hard. he loved you, undoubtedly, and you loved him too, just not enough to be with him, and that’s what hurt the most.

when you had no choice but to phone him and tell him that you’re both done, he bought the first ticket over to your state and got to your place as fast as he could, only to be let down by an unanswered door and a cold break up.

»•» HAN

you had a life before jisung, which was obvious, but oftentimes a lot of people from that part of your lifetime would leak into the current one, like your close guy friends whom you’d hang out with quite frequently.

han wasn’t one to control the people you were friends with, but he got more serious about his asks to distance yourself from them after hearing those guy friends call you by nicknames han thought were reserved only for him and you, and for when you’re too drunk to come home and would stay over at their place.

deep in his heart he knew you’d never cheat, but nevertheless it bothered him, as it would with anyone. those guys kept flirting with you right in front of jisung’s eyes, and you didn’t even notice. 

your boyfriend’s sweet demeanor always faded when they were around, so not long after, you also got sick of being around someone so gloomy and cold, and the love in the relationship faded by itself, hurting both of you in the process. you’d go back to hanging out with your guy friends to make you feel better, and he spent his time healing with minho, a friend who was also always by his side.

»•» FELIX

chan was your best friend, and the one responsible for introducing you to felix. it was one of the best things he'd done, but being your best friend and all, you would be lying if you said you sometimes didn’t prefer chan over felix.

i mean, chan was your go-to for most things, especially during fights and felix’s busy days, and felix would also be lying if he said he didn’t feel neglected at times. he thought chan was more important to you since you met him first, and he’d get so moody and distant every time you’d mention chan that it got on your nerves.

“he’s my best friend, felix, don’t you get that!?”

“and i’m your boyfriend, y/n! that’s a little more than just a friend, isn’t it?”

either way, neither of you were happy about the way the other reacted during these kinds of fights, so you went ahead and told him the truth.

“felix, if you’re gonna be like this every time, then i’m sorry, but i can’t be with you.”

felix was left speechless, and after felix’s shrug and roll of the eyes, you realized the best decision was simply to leave, not knowing how heartbroken felix actually was.

»•» SEUNGMIN

seungmin was one of those boys that showed his undying love for you through protection, and it was oh-so-romantic and lovely at the beginning, but he got so overprotective with you that he’d judge your clothes, your social media, and your friends, too.

“don’t wear that out tonight, you know the boys will stare,” he’d say.

“i know it’s a big ask, but could you not hug jisung like that? it’s a bit too..much,” seungmin would critique.

it’s like whenever you made any move, said any word, he’d be watching and judging.

perhaps it was a misunderstanding between the two of you, or simply bad communication skills, but you thought he was controlling you for the sake of his image, and not for the sake of losing you to someone else.

either way, it always ended in an argument - you had to put your foot down at some point, didn’t you?

“i understand this is your first proper relationship, seungmin, but that’s not how relationships work,” you’d finally sternly approach him about it and he’d sink his shoulders, guiltily pressing his lips tight at your words. “and if you think this is what you call a healthy one, then i’m sorry, but it’s not for me.”

»•» JEONGIN

he’s young, and you knew that, so you were a bit more forgiving and lenient with the boy. obviously there wasn’t much you could complain about - jeongin is everyone’s little sunshine - but he had so much going on that often you weren’t one of the main priorities in his young mind.

he was forgetful, and never picked up on the hints when you were upset. he was just too inexperienced with romantic relationships, but you decided to give him time nonetheless.

it’s been several months, and after numerous times when you’ve brought up what was upsetting you, he’d just smile with a nod and say a quick ‘sorry’ before continuing to be as before, and all that was building up inside you.

he wasn’t accustomed to change, and got too comfortable in the relationship - too much for you liking, anyway - so you decided to break it off before you sacrificed yourself any longer. this wasn’t how you wanted to be treated.

*look, i know the gif is of him smiling but let’s pretend he’s on the verge of tears lol*

[jonahlovescoffee]

Night Changes | J.M.

a/n this fanfic is inspired by one direction’s hit song with the same title. u can also listen to jonah’s cover of the same song here.This is the first complete fanfic I’ve ever written in my entire pathetic life and it has been rotting away in my files app for a while now lol u can see how insecure i was (and am) to put this out here but here it is anyways :’) any constructive criticism is appreciated <3 happy reading!!

summary: the death of his friend’s girlfriend made Jonah realize that nothing in life is permanent, including you.

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 2136

“We're only getting older, baby; And I've been thinking about it lately; Does it ever drive you crazy; Just how fast the night changes?”

It was yet another ordinary weekend night where Jonah and his band were gathered in the little studio of Daniel’s home, busy composing new music for their upcoming album without a care in the world when Corbyn’s phone rang all of a sudden.

Corbyn’s eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw the caller ID on the screen before sliding the answer button to the right and excusing himself from the small room to take the call. No one thought much about it and proceeded with their songwriting process. However, when half an hour passed with Corbyn’s absence, that was when Jonah’s gut feeling told him that something wasn’t right. He brushed that thought off as quick as it entered his mind, trying his best to ignore the fact that he caught a glimpse of the caller ID and it was his girlfriend’s mother calling him, which was undeniably weird. As his roommate and best friend, Jonah could confirm that she had never called Corbyn unless there was an emergency. Heck, the last time she called him was when her car broke down somewhere in downtown LA and Corbyn was the only one she knew who lived close enough to pick her up.

His suspicion was soon proven right when Corbyn barged into the room seconds later with tears running down his cheeks nonstop like a river. Daniel, who was seated the closest to the door jumped up in shock just as Corbyn fell into his arms and started sobbing. The other boys made their ways to them as Daniel patted Corbyn’s back in attempt to calm him down.

“What’s wrong?” Zach asked curiously and Jack elbowed him on the arm. “Ow, what was that for?” Zach exclaimed, earning a glare from the other male that clearly said, “Can’t you wait until he stops crying to pry for answers?”

“She killed herself,” Corbyn managed to say between sobs.

“Who?” Daniel asked softly.

“My girlfriend,” the 4 boys’ breaths hitched in utter shock. None of them were expecting this news in forever. Madeline was the most cheerful and optimistic girl Jonah had ever met. She brought sunlight and joy into every room she entered. Were those traits of hers merely a mask to hide all the despair and anxiety underneath? It didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

“My sweetheart killed herself,” Corbyn repeated, mostly to himself with a hint of disbelief in his tone. It was evident that he was still having a hard time letting the fact sink in. “We just went out for dinner last night and now she’s gone. Forever. She didn’t even say goodbye. What should I do? How can I live without her?”

“She should’ve said something. I could’ve done so much to help her instead of letting her die just like that. I saw the scars on her hand last night but I assumed it was nothing serious. It’s my fault. I could’ve stepped in and save her but I didn’t. Why? Why?!” Corbyn screamed and tugged at his hair frustratedly.

Silence ensued, the only sound being Corbyn’s uncontrollable sobs. No one said anything because they knew that no words were powerful enough to comfort him for the time being. The most they could do was be there for him.

#

Jonah pulled up in your driveway in the middle of the night. He left his house right away after ensuring that Corbyn was sound asleep in his room in fear of his best friend trying anything stupid under the influence of tremendous grief. He knew that you were probably asleep at this hour and he should’ve waited until the morning to pay you a visit but he couldn’t wait any longer. Madeline’s death had made him realise that nothing in life lasts forever and he wanted—no, needed—to be by your side tonight to make up for the past few days of neglecting you because of work.

After some debating in his head whether to wake you up from your deep slumber like an ignorant boyfriend or just turn around and go home, he turned off the engine and rushed out of his car and onto your doorstep before he could change his mind. He used the same key you gave him months ago to unlock the front door and was then greeted by a silent pitch black, empty living room. He locked the door with a soft click behind him before tiptoeing up the stairs and entering your room. He made sure to keep his movements as silent as possible as he knew better than anyone that you were a terribly light sleeper and could be awoken easily by the softest sounds. He took off his shoes and joined you on the king-sized bed, wrapping his arms around your sleeping figure gently to pull you closer to him. He contentedly nuzzled your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo that smelled like cherry blossoms and spring air. It was only then he felt truly at ease, with you perfectly safe and sound in his arms.

As he half expected, you stirred from your sleep, wiggling your body slightly before turning towards him, your arms habitually made their way around his neck even in your half-awake state. You couldnt help but smile when you felt him tightening his arms around you like he was holding onto you for dear life. “Hey, love,” you mumbled groggily, staring up at him with droopy eyelids in your pyjamas that had bunny patterns all over them that you were more than embarrassed to be seen in by anyone but you could care less since Jonah had been your boyfriend long enough to know about your preference for childish pyjamas over mature flimsy nightgowns. “What brings you here?”

“Just wanna see you,” he replied with a smile. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and took a moment to drink in your beauty—the crinkle by your eyes when you smile, you supple lips and the freckles on your cheeks that were illuminated by the soft moonlight that shone through the windows—all ordinary features of yours that you had never been particularly fond of but were all made perfect in his eyes. He was lucky to have the chance of calling you his, but Madeline’s unexpected death that night made him wonder how long this could last? Without realising, he let his mind drift further into the sea of uncertainties of the future, getting more anxious by the second, especially when he was met with the thought of ever losing you one day.

“Jo, are you okay?” You asked worriedly when you noticed his tense expression. He offered you a meek smile in return. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he replied, but his furrowed brows claimed otherwise.

“You’re not fooling anyone with that face, dear. What’s wrong?” You watched him stay silent for a while as if he was trying to come up with a suitable answer to your question.

”I just...can I stay over tonight with you?” He asked and you let out a hum in agreement, your hands rubbing soothing patterns down his back. Even after all this time, he still hadn’t managed to get rid of the old habit of asking for your permission to spend the night at your place although he knew that you would agree without hesitation every single time he did so. You wanted nothing more than to find out what was going on in his head at that moment but he didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, so you pushed your questions aside for later.

Both of you stayed like that for who knew how long, unmoving, limbs tangled with each other’s as the cool night breeze wafted into the room through the opened windows. “Madeline died,” he said out of the blue, breaking the silence. Shock was an understatement to what you felt. You couldn’t believe your ears. You weren’t exactly best friends with Madeline but still close enough to hang out together occasionally when both of you were free from your hectic schedules, mainly because Jonah and her used to have a thing for each other back in high school before she got with Corbyn so there had always been a tinge of awkwardness between you two. Yet this news hit you hard all the same.

Tears welled up in your eyes before you knew it. “When?”

“Few hours ago,” Jonah answered, his hand stroking your hair with the utmost gentleness, which prompted your tears to resume falling. He let you cry it all out without a single complaint about your tears staining his shirt. “She took her own life.”

“Why?” You sniffled and he shook his head. “No one knows; I guess even the most optimistic person on earth has her invisible demons too,” he said with a sigh.

“Is that the reason why you came here tonight?” You wiped your tears away with the long sleeves of your shirt as you took several deep breaths to recompose yourself, bracing yourself for his answer. Old feelings die hard, that was what you always hear people said, especially your first love. Part of you were scared that Jonah still harboured feelings for her even after all this years and you were nothing but an emotional support rebound tonight.

“Yes and no. I came here after hearing about the news, yes, but I’m not here to mourn about her, for now,” he added the last two words hastily in case you get the wrong idea and thought that he was being rude. You were ashamed for feeling extremely relieved that his answer wasn’t what you expected. “I came here to make up for the past few days of absence and make sure that you’re alright. Have you ever, you know, done that?”

It took you few seconds to get what he meant. “Of course not, Jo. I promise you, I never tried self-harm before, and I never will,” you replied truthfully.

“Thank god,” he sighed with relief and planted a tender kiss on your forehead, “I don’t know what I’d do if you said yes.”

“You know that you’ll be the first one I talk to if I have anything bothering me, right?” You took his hand in yours while staring at him expectantly for an answer but none came. “Jonah, please don’t tell me that you seriously think that I’m someone who resorts to harming myself when the going gets tough?”

“I...I don’t know,” he admitted sheepishly which earned a sigh from you, a small smile tugging at your lips. You still couldn’t believe how this man in front of you—a confident rising boyband star—could get so worked up over a plain girl like you. He swallowed thickly before continuing, “Today made me question everything I know like how long this relationship can last—how long we’ll get to stay us until the world decides to tear us apart. We always said we’ll be together until the end of times but so did Corbyn and Madeline and look at them now. Madeline just....left without a word to anyone. I know it’s stupid but I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you and now I’m being such a sap and you probably are disgusted —”

“Jonah, stop. You’re over-thinking everything. I’m not disgusted at you, not even one bit,” you raised a hand to his cheek and traced a thumb over it tenderly, knowing that this simple gesture never failed to soothe his raging emotions. “It’s normal to feel this way, love. But whenever you do, please remember this: there’s nothing to be afraid of because I love you so much, Jonah Marais Roth Frantzich, that I can never ever think of hurting myself because I know that that’ll hurt you; I love you so much that I started crying a little less, smiling a little more because I know that no matter how hard my day is, I’ll always have you to come home to.”

You watched as a tear escaped from him. “I don’t know what the future holds but I can promise you this,” you locked your eyes with his, your gaze filled with the utmost love and adoration in contrast with his worried one. “No matter how fast the night changes, it’ll never change me and you.”

“You promise?” His lips curled upwards into a small smile as he leaned in, leaving only an inch between your lips, your breaths mingling with each other’s. As always, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the close proximity as you mirrored his expression with a sweet smile of your own.

“Forever and always,” you breathed and he closed the distance between your lips, sealing the promise.

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar 2020 🎄

By @sloanedestler​

Mistletoe

 December 23rd

 “Thank you for such a lovely dinner, Erik.” Christine gave him a beaming smile as he opened the car door for her, leaning toward him just enough that he considered stealing a kiss, but he lost his nerve and merely helped her into the vehicle.

 Unbelievably, it had been exactly two weeks since he and Christine had had their first official date, and if her happy demeanor just now was any indication, he was hopeful there would be still more of them. When Erik slid into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt, she looked at him earnestly. “I was thinking maybe you could come up to my apartment when we get back there?”

 There was no chance he would say no to that invitation. Not only would he leap at any opportunity to spend time with Christine, he had been hoping to give her the Christmas gifts he had gotten for her tonight. While they planned to spend Christmas Day together, having been invited to spend the holiday with Meg and her mother, the thought of giving Christine her gifts in front of an audience made him apprehensive.

 “I would love to.” Unable to control the thrill that shot through him as her smile got even bigger, he continued, “but first, I had something else planned.”

 Christine giggled, knowing she was probably acting like a girl on her very first date, but she simply couldn’t help it - she had had feelings for Erik for so long, and now that she no longer had to hide them, it seemed like happiness was just bursting out of her. “Oh, really? What?”

 Erik shook his head, but she could see a slight grin on his thin lips. “It’s a surprise, my dear.”

 “Ooh, another surprise? You already remembered my favorite restaurant tonight.” Despite the difficulties Erik had in being around people, he had taken her to the same Italian restaurant that her father had always taken her to on special occasions, which she had just happened to mention to him months ago when they chatted after one of her voice lessons. As they had pulled up to it earlier that evening, she had fallen for him even more when she realized that Erik must have taken that bit of information about her and filed it away, even if he had thought he would never have the opportunity to actually take her there.

 Although she was dying to know what the surprise was, Christine decided to just savor the anticipation of whatever he had planned, and to continue to enjoy being with Erik like this, but as he drove them toward a residential neighborhood, her curiosity was nearly getting the better of her.

 Just as she was about to break down and ask him what he had planned again, Erik turned down a street seemingly at random, and began driving slowly down it. “You’re the expert, Christine. Does this look like a good street?”

 “A good street for what?” she asked blankly. She was crazy about Erik, but that didn’t mean that she always understood what he was talking about.

 “For Christmas lights? I remember you said you and your father used to drive around and look at people’s Christmas lights every year, so I thought maybe you would like to do that tonight.”

 When Christine didn’t answer, he glanced over at her, wondering if he had done something wrong, feeling his familiar insecurities rise up despite his best effort. When he saw the way her eyes were gleaming, his heart sank as he saw that he must have, if the tears in them were any indication.

 “Christine, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I can take you home now.” Already berating himself for ruining what had been a perfect evening, he started to make a move to turn the car around, but she stopped him with her small hand on his arm.

 “No, Erik,” she said huskily, “I would love to look at lights with you. I was just...surprised you remembered that I told you that. It was so long ago.”

 Erik met her gaze, his yellow eyes burning behind his black mask. “I think I remember everything you’ve ever told me, Christine. Every conversation we had after your lessons, you have no idea what they meant to me, what your friendship meant to me.”

 How she adored this strange, intense man. “Oh, Erik, it meant so much to me, too.” She nearly added that those conversations were what had led to her falling in love with him, but she held back, thinking it was too soon to tell him she loved him. Even though Christine knew without a doubt that she did.

 *****

 “You can still come up, right? I’ll make hot chocolate,” Christine asked once he parked in front of her apartment building, stealing a sideways glance at him. Although the mask made it difficult to read Erik sometimes, she thought she detected a happy gleam in his eye at her invitation.

 “Of course, Christine. I would love to.”

 Erik reached in the back seat on his way out of the vehicle and picked something up, but she couldn’t tell what he was holding until he came around to her car door. Even though it made her feel a little silly, Erik seemed to get so much enjoyment from opening doors for her that she didn’t have the heart to tell him it really wasn’t necessary. When she got out of the car, though, all thoughts of doors flew out of her head.

 “Erik!” she exclaimed happily. “You got me a present!”

 Seeing Christine’s excitement over the elegantly-wrapped boxes in his hand temporarily robbed Erik of any coherent thought. “Yes,” he agreed with her, “two, actually.” He immediately cringed at having stated the obvious, but his stupidity didn’t seem to bother her, since she slipped her hand into his free one for their short walk up to her apartment.

 When they got inside, Christine hung his coat up next to hers and led him over to the couch, where Erik placed her gifts on the coffee table in front of it. He sat, hoping she would join him, but instead she moved toward the kitchen. “I’ll just get the hot chocolate started, all right?”

 Erik would much rather have the opportunity to cuddle next to her on the couch, but Christine had brought up hot chocolate several times, so maybe it was important to her. “That sounds nice,” he said politely, if not entirely truthfully.

 Just when he started to wonder if he should have offered to help her, she called to him from the kitchen, “Erik, can you come in here?”

 Rising quickly, he made his way to help her, but to his confusion she met him in the doorway, hands empty. When she just looked at him and smiled, Erik started to feel self-conscious. “Did you need help, my dear?” Why was she looking at him like that?

 Still staying silent, Christine raised her gaze to the top of the doorway, and Erik realized there was something hanging there, some sort of Christmas decoration like the ones scattered all over her apartment. He stared blankly at her for a moment longer, and then suddenly realized what she wanted from him.

 Christine blinked in confusion when Erik reached for the mistletoe hanging above them instead of leaning down to kiss her. “Erik, what are you doing?”

 He paused, confusion in his eyes. “I...thought you wanted me to move this for you? Since I’m so much taller?”

 Just managing to bite back her amusement, not wanting to hurt his feelings, Christine shook her head. “That’s mistletoe, Erik.” When he just continued looking at her in confusion, she continued. “You know, when you meet someone under it, you’re supposed to kiss.”

 That certainly got his attention. “You...want to kiss me?”

 Now Christine was the one feeling confused. “Of course?” She and Erik had kissed multiple times over the last two weeks, and she was reasonably confident she hadn’t given him any reason to think she wouldn’t want to repeat the experience. “We’ve kissed quite a few times by now, Erik. Why would you think I wouldn't want to?”

 He glanced away, embarrassed. “I just thought...I wouldn’t want to presume anything.”

 Christine’s heart clenched as she heard what Erik wasn’t saying. Before her attempt to flirt with him under the mistletoe derailed any further than it already had, she simply reached up and pulled him down to her, meeting his lips with hers.

 Although Erik was stiff at first, he soon wrapped his arms around her and began kissing her in earnest, thrilling to the feeling of how tightly Christine was holding him as she eagerly returned his kisses. After a long period of time where they proceeded to get more and more lost in each other, she finally drew back with a shaky laugh, dropping her forehead to his chest.

 “I think the hot chocolate is probably cold by now,” she said with the most musical giggle Erik had ever heard. Truly, every sound she made was perfect to him.

 “I don’t mind,” he replied truthfully, but she laughed again and pulled away as he reluctantly let his arms fall from around her.

 “I’ll heat it back up. Meet you on the couch?”

 Unable to say no to her, he simply nodded.

 *****

 When Christine entered the living room and set the hot chocolate on the table, Erik expected her to sit beside him, but instead she went over to her small Christmas tree and pulled a brightly-wrapped package out from underneath it. Smiling shyly, she brought it over and sat it down next to the presents he had brought for her. Surely it couldn’t be...had she gotten him a Christmas gift?

 Christine smiled at him sweetly after she sat down beside him. “Do you want to open yours first?”

 Erik stared at the gift in shock, unable to believe that this lovely girl had taken the time to buy a present for him. “Open it?” he asked her blankly.

 “Well, yes, that’s what you do with gifts. Haven’t you ever gotten a Christmas present before?” Christine’s grin told Erik she was joking, but he decided he needed to try to collect himself before she realized the sad answer to her question.

 “Why don’t you go first?”

 He didn’t miss the eager gleam in Christine’s eyes. Erik filed away the information that his sweet girl liked receiving presents for future use.

 Christine reached for the smaller of the two boxes, but Erik stopped her by handing her the slightly bigger one first. Wondering if that meant what was in the small box was the better or worse gift, Christine took the package from Erik and tore the lovely paper off.

 “Oh!” she exclaimed happily when she saw that the present was a box of her favorite cookies, from a specialty shop in New York. “Erik! You remembered this, too!” Christine recalled raving about these specific cookies when she had described her last trip to the city to him. How sweet it was to think that Erik had been so attentive to all the little things that she had told him, even when he thought she would never be anything more than his voice student.

 When she picked up the smaller gift, she noticed that Erik’s always-straight posture became even stiffer. Was he nervous about whether or not she would like this present? Intrigued by what that could mean, she peeled the paper of it eagerly, but when she saw the tiny velvet box inside, she started to feel a little nervous herself.

 Was Erik going to propose? Christine knew she loved him, but this...was too sudden.

 Gingerly, she popped the little box open, nervous to see what was inside it. Christine’s first reaction at seeing earrings instead of a ring was relief, but she soon realized the beauty of the pair. Nestled in the box was the most gorgeous jewelry she had ever seen in person, each earring consisting of a round sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds. This...was decidedly not costume jewelry. Erik must have spent a fortune on these, she thought distantly.

 Erik watched as Christine examined her gift, nervously hoping that she liked the earrings, but when she raised her wide-eyed gaze to his, his heart plummeted. She obviously didn’t like them, or thought they were too much, or maybe she didn’t like him at all and had only agreed to a few dates with him to be nice, and now didn’t know how to tell him that after he had foolishly spent several thousand dollars on jewelry.

 “I’m sorry, Christine,” he said hopelessly, as he started to rise from the couch so he could leave her in peace, but she grasped his arm to stop him.

 “What are you sorry for?”

 “I...it’s obvious you don’t like them. I’m sorry,” he said again. “It was too much. I-”

 To his surprise, Christine stopped his rambling by placing her delicate fingers on his lips. “Erik, I love them. They’re absolutely beautiful.” And to his surprise, she replaced her fingers with her lips, kissing him sweetly and sliding her arms around him.

 As their kiss started to deepen, Christine pulled back just a fraction, and Erik had to bite back a moan at the loss of her lips on his, but she was merely reaching for his mask. However, instead of tearing it off as she had in the past, she paused just before touching it to gently whisper, “May I?”, waiting for his slight nod before untying it.

 She turned away just long enough to set the mask on the coffee table, and then Christine was right back in his arms, but instead of instantly resuming their kiss, she pressed her soft lips to his forehead before kissing his wasted cheek. Even though he knew it was too soon, he couldn't stop the words that left his mouth, prompted by the sweet way she was treating his horrible face.

 “Christine, I love you.”

 The sweet angel in his arms froze, and Erik cursed his stupidity. It seemed he was determined to frighten her off one way or the other tonight. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know it’s too soon, but I thought you surely knew anyway-”

 Once again Christine cut him off, this time by briefly pressing her lips to his, then pulling back to say, “Erik, it’s all right. I mean, obviously I suspected that you did.” She leaned in for another quick kiss. “And, Erik, I love you too.”

 Erik was completely stunned into silence by the words he had never dreamed Christine would say to him, but she spared him the need to answer by pulling him into another kiss. This one lasted quite some time, until she pulled back for air, leaving her forehead pressed against his.

 Suddenly she gave a little start. “Oh! You haven’t opened your present yet.” Turning away, she reached over to pick it up and hand it to him. Erik took the package from her and merely admired it for a moment, savoring the thought that the girl he loved had actually gotten this for him. Part of him wanted to simply leave it wrapped just like this so he could always have the reminder that Christine had cared enough to get him a gift, but he knew that would not be what she would consider normal behavior.

 When Erik began to carefully remove the paper from his gift, Christine was struck by a sudden thought: he had gotten her both an incredibly thoughtful gift and an extremely expensive, absolutely beautiful one, and she had gotten him-

 “A sweater! Christine, it’s perfect!” Cringing that Erik was being so sweet when she had gotten him the most cliché gift ever, Christine awkwardly tried to explain herself while Erik examined the fitted black garment as if it was the most delightful thing he had ever seen.

 “Sorry, I know a sweater is a little...boring, but I just thought it would look nice on you. And it’s your favorite color,” she finished lamely.

 “Christine! Why would you apologize? This is by far the nicest gift I’ve ever received.” No need to ruin the evening by mentioning it was also the only gift he’d ever received. In a sudden burst of inspiration, he added, “Because it came from you, of course.”

 That was apparently the right thing to say, as Christine threw her arms around him and drew him in for more kisses, the hot chocolate completely abandoned on the coffee table by this point.

 When they finally pulled apart, Christine nestled up against his side, laying her head on his shoulder. “I really am sorry your gift wasn’t more exciting, Erik.”

 “Christine, truly, I love it. I can’t wait to wear it to our celebration on Christmas Day.”

 “Oh, Erik, that is so sweet of you.”

 They lapsed into silence for several minutes, simply holding each other close, until Erik spoke again.

 “Christine?” he asked hesitantly.

 “Yes?”

 “Do you...think you might wear the earrings on Christmas? Do you really like them?”

 “Of course I do, Erik! And I can’t wait to wear them on Christmas.” Christine squeezed Erik’s thin waist in a hug, hoping he could feel just how sincere she was. He responded by wordlessly burying his face in her curls, holding her just as tightly as she was holding him, before finally breaking his silence.

 “I’m so glad you like them. Merry Christmas, Christine.”

 “Merry Christmas, Erik.”