#i will still hold on to my little scrap of hope that he DOES see the bkdk and does buck the norm

[cbrownjc]

I apologise in advance for the length. I wanted your take on one specific part of 2x5 that bothered me a little and is partially why my little DM shipper hope wavered (that and being burned by ongoing shows in the past). Both you and @nalyra-dreaming have brilliantly pointed out how the episode does a great job at recreating the horror origin where Daniel is kept in the cellar and I wholeheartedly agree. However, what has bothered me about it is that, in the episode, it is not Armand that chooses to let Daniel live. Granted, in the book it's more a stay of execution than anything else, but it's still his choice alone. In 2x5 that choice is now Louis'. And while I know that in the novel Armand considers Daniel a gift from Louis, part of me is bothered by this slight lack of agency. It felt to me like just another thing Armand did to comply to Louis' wants in his desperation to not lose him. And that any Chase that happens is not necessarily out of genuine curiosity but because Louis called Armand boring and Armand just wants to know what set Daniel apart for Louis.

And then my brain goes "fruit of the poisonous tree" and am then afraid that Daniel's meaning wrt Armand (which, to my great frustration, I have already seen other book readers diminish) will literally be: oh he's just the scraps Armand gets because he couldn't have Louis or Lestat (because of the horrors, he did all of it, etc). I don't WANT it to be that and I guess I'm a little terrified about it.

Idk what to make of any of it and I'm nervous because I REALLY want to see this pairing develop as they deserve. So please, tell me what I'm missing in my rambling and borderline incoherent concern. Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my sanity's only hope. ^_~

Hi!

Okay, well, I will try to be your Ben Kenobi here, but remember, even he failed to see what was going on with Annikin before it was too late . . .

Yeah, okay that isn't very confidence-giving, is it? 😬 🙃

Anyway! 🤭

Okay, so on the first point:

I have actually seen one or two people point out the fact that it was Louis who basically intervened and stopped Armand from killing Daniel, and Armand didn't do so himself. And I'm not going to say I can't see yours and some other's point about this. All I can say about that point for now is that we don't know what happens right now between Daniel and Armand after Daniel was let go and dropped off at the drug den. Because there might actually come a point when Armand thinks he very well could kill Daniel and Louis would have no idea, as Louis only requests that Daniel live out "this night." There was no request from Louis to Armand for Daniel to live out his whole life.

So we might actually get a moment, in the future, where we see a time when Armand decides to just kill Daniel -- but, just like with Louis in the tunnel back in the 40s -- stays his own hand via his own decision to do so.

So, I think on this point right now, the only thing any of us can do is take a "wait and see" about it. But there are still doors open to Armand deciding on his own to spare Daniel's life in a significant way I think. With him not even being in love with Daniel yet at the time too IMO.

So, on to the second point:

No, I very much do not think Daniel is going to be seen as "scraps" that Armand gets because he couldn't have Louis or Lestat. And I think what is going to come into play to make that clear is the slight change the show has done wrt Armand's character and the Great Laws. After the Children of Darkness/Satan coven busted up, Armand in the book really didn't hold those rules in any high regard anymore. But the show has very clearly changed that, to where Armand was ready to kill Louis because Louis broke many of the Great Laws.

Assad himself made this clear that Armand really was going to kill Louis and only didn't do it because he chose love instead.

And if you take a look at the full list of the Great Laws that someone was amazingly able to translate, as well as this gifset of a specific scene from 2x03, a vampire being with a human in such a way is a direct violation of those laws that Armand in the show clearly holds to.

So for Armand to break that rule and choose to be with Daniel? Will not be a small thing.

So I think that alone will show that Daniel is not just a scrap. Armand's love for Daniel will be so much that he will, once again, ignore a rule he once held fast to in order to, once again, choose love.

And then, of course, there is the fact that Armand chose to actually break his biggest rule of all for Daniel, which is to never turn someone into another vampire -- which is also one of the laws the cult drilled into him. Yes, Armand's main reason for not doing so in the books was because he didn't want to damn someone into vampirism, as well as not believing that the Maker/Fledgling relationship can ever really work. But the other reason that I feel the show will also touch upon will very much also be because of the Great Law that older vampires should never work the Dark Trick upon someone, less that fledgling be too powerful in the blood.

But Armand's love for Daniel will be so great that he will not bear the thought of Daniel actually dying. And so, when the moment comes, he will not only break that Great Law, but his own personal reason why he doesn't want to turn someone. And he would rather face having to truly put his fear and belief about Markers and Feldglings to the side (and maybe still lose Daniel that way -- which in the books, he actually did for a time!) than lose Daniel forever via death.

Again, that has never seemed to me as Daniel just being a "scrap" to Armand, even when it comes to the books. But I expect the show will put an even greater emphasis on this, both when it comes to Armand's backstory and how now Armand in the show actually holds to those laws in a serious way.

So yeah, just some of my thoughts on those two points. I hope they can calm you somewhat but, if not, just know that, because of the format this story is now being told in, that will very much lend to things -- the characters and their relationships with each other -- to be even more fleshed out, along with character arcs to be planned out overall as well. (Which yes, not every TV show does, but this one is clearly doing so.) We won't get every answer to these things right away, but I think there are many doors open to exploring these things in a satisfying way over the course of the show. 🙂

[marimeeko]

As a multishipper I'm thinking about something. As a BKDK fan, I am, I guess preparing for a possibility?

I had a thought with this last chapter, and how this battle is literally about to end. That we are indeed at the very end of the line.

And I am thinking of the "Do your best, Izuku" theme and how everyone started chiming in on it, how it has become basically the closing motif to the battle. And how Tenya brought up the OG, ochako, who said the "Deku" seemed to her like "Do your best", and of course, ochako is seen saying the same.

So my thought is, if Hori is going for a Izu Ocha ending, this might be how it comes about.

(I am not saying it's one hundred percent satisfying, bc once again, Izuku has shown virtually no interest in her beyond friendship, and the relationship, to me, is still thematically and developmentally, one sided.)

So I don't know if hori is going to go with the idea that "do your best" bringing the relationship of Izu Ocha to the forefront after kicking it to the side for so long...but I guess I can see the thematic possibility he MAY be going for if that is the case.

Once again, I am hoping it's not a blatant thing, if anything I'd like no pairing to be outright "canon". Realistically I think that may be the case. Simply bc izu ocha just doesn't have enough reciprocity behind it and, bakudeku...well, obviously is highly unlikely due to the nature of Shonen/cultural precedence by very reason of it being Queer.

I am just thinking about the whole thing and it may be where Izu Ocha enters the Chat again.

As always I am letting Hori cook, and tempering expectations. I don't dislike Izu Ocha so I won't be terribly bummed out, I just wish there was a little more developed into it(namely, on izukus side)

As I always disclaim, it's Horis story to tell, and I am here to read it, and I'm not stopping now.

[skelliko]

Hi Skelle! ☆ How r you? I hope you have a nice day/night! 🫶🏼 I want to request something.. my request is can you make like a full (not a mandatory) headcanons of how the guys will act if they have a crush on someone? Like how they behaviour will change, how they first meet the reader immediately think “yep, she’s the one”, where, and overall how sappy they can get when they have a crush 🥹 i would like them with baji, kazutora, chifuyu and haitani brothers.

Feel free to ignore this if you feel this is too much cause I don’t wanna stress your cute 🧠💐🎀🩷 brain 🧠💐🎀🩷

Lmao

a/n: hope this is okay, sorry for the wait. i didn't intend to make these all be in a school setting, I had tried to do some in a workplace but It's all I could think off without making it basic 😕

★-Tokyo revengers

๑-context: first interaction + how they act/feel with a crush

๑-featuring: Baji, kazutora, chifuyu, ran, rindou

°- kazutora hanemiya

-- kazutora was forced to stay behind the classroom to finish his work that he hasn't done, the teacher was sat in front of her desk doing whatever a teacher does there while everyone else but him exit out the room. however when you were on your way out you slickly slid a small, folded up piece of paper on the side of kazutora's desk which certainly didn't go unnoticed by him.

-- his eyes went right at you and watched as you walked away almost expecting you to look back at him but you didn't. to then occasionally glance at the teacher to make sure that she doesn't look up as his hand slides towards the note to carefully and quietly open it up. anything could have been written on the note but since he was so focused to not get caught his mind was blank and didn't assume anything right away.

-- the piece of paper held all the answers to the worksheet that he was supposed to complete. to avoid any suspicions from the teacher he immediately placed it flat on the desk underneath his palm to collect himself and not get too ahead of himself, I mean what if the answers are incorrect and your setting him up for longer detention? eventually he risked it and wrote down all the answers that you had given him and handed in his work. and sure enough you become a life saver there, he was able to get out of there quicker than he first anticipated.

-- eventually he came up to you "hey, thanks for the... you know. but why'd you give me 3 incorrect answers? thought you were supposed to be smart" he said it in a almost teasing way, not upset at all about the incorrect answers. but you replied with "because no one would believe you to get them all correct without being forced to do them again" and that right there is the moment that he realised what kind of smart and mischievous person you are, enough that you've captivated his thoughts for the rest of the day and onwards.

• normally he'd get pissed off when forced to stay behind in class, but now, his mind is flooded with you that he's getting stayed back more and more just so that your hand can brush over his desk and give a semi warm piece of paper that you've held safely in your palm on the way to his desk to get him out of a situation that he put himself in, it almost feels like holding your hand. are you aware of what he's doing? probably, but that won't stop him. he also keeps all the pieces of paper even tho they serve no purpose, but knowing that you were the one that gave it to him changes the perspective of those little scraps.

• he has a major urge to be around you, he's craving your presence and voice and he always feels some sort of ache is in body from just thinking about seeing you once the weekend has passed. also the same thing goes for craving your physical touch such as a tight hug or maybe even a scalp massage but he knows that won't happen any time soon but the crave is still there, it's like a maladaptive daydream.

• he also looks at you different compared to others, with you it seems like kazu is looking at an angle with gorgeous white wings and a stunning outfit, whereas with others it seems like their just ants. big difference there.

-- sure you've been in his class for a while but that was the first time you've actually interacted with each other, other than a quick eye contact from looking around the room. there's always that one classmate that you haven't talked to but once you do it changes so much more than you first intended.

• he feels his emotions to a certain extreme level and cause of this he tries to hide it as much as he can otherwise he grows too expressive without realising it. and that can easily make his feelings seem obvious if not tamed correctly. he tries to act casual despite his stomach is turned into a butterfly sanctuary, his palms are grown sweaty, and his breath is held in to get rid of the feeling of jumping about and smiling like a complete idiot. mentally hes turned into a little kid with red cheeks just because his crush smiled at him, someone give the kid an ice pop otherwise he'll overheat. no seriously he's burning up like a fever just being near you.

°- Keisuke baji

-- Baji was getting into some sort of escalating argument after school had ended, him and two guys were getting a little rowdy but because of Baji being in his nerdy disguise at the time he couldn't risk in making a scene

-- but then that's when you butt in and stand by Baji's side. it was certainly a shock to suddenly see you appear beside him and hear you verbalise your opinion and defend him like that against these two delinquents even though he could have easily defended himself despite the circumstances, he could have walked away and led them somewhere else but no, you brought yourself into the bickering before he could act on it

-- Baji was gonna speak up to cut you off and try and get you away from the slight hazardous situation but you certainly had a lot to say and that just caused him to keep quiet. were you not scared? if you weren't for yourself then he was surely scared for you. he wasn't mad at you for getting involved, instead he somewhat gained respect for you and he had to hold back in smiling.

-- though he obviously couldn't let the situation keep going so he had to quickly drop the whole argument by speaking over you and basically drag you away by your sleeve gently. his feelings didn't grow immediately right there and then but they did develop quickly over a short period of time.

• thinking of you? his cheeks are sore and he brings a hand up to his mouth to suppress it and as if to hide it even though there's no one around to hide his smile from. he doesn't know why he does that but he just does.

• if someone were to be told that baji giggles when you message him they wouldn't believe it, that whole image for them is nonexistent when it comes to Baji, wouldn't even consider it. but this man really does, he tries to stifle them and keep a calm exposure however when he's laying down on his bed he has a wide smile plastered stupidly on his face and when he feels an excited, giddy feeling he can't help but feel a small laugh escape. when he tries to hold them back it almost feels like his chest is being tightened. your suffocation him without even being there, imagine a potential news title 'baji Keisuke suffocated due to feeling giddy about a crush'

• not much of an artist, can only actually draw simple outlines of certain objects such as pain flowers or stick men, but that doesn't stop him from picking up a pen or pencil and start to doodle, nor does it stop him to have your features flash in his mind and him draw you as a stick figure or even a wobbly blob. he sometimes zones out in class when doodling and when he catches himself in drawing you he quickly scribbles it out before anyone or you sees.

°- chifuyu matsuno

-- its raining outside on a school day and you don't have an umbrella nor a hood to cover yourself so due to that you chose to stay behind in your empty classroom to wait out the rain just so you don't get soaked. you chose to stay behind and do something captivating that it even caused you to lose track of time, luckily Chifuyu walked past your classroom and saw you there, it's at least a few hours past school hours (don't ask what he's still doing here)

-- he curiously came up to you and mentioned it however even after those few hours the rain hadn't left and it was still pouring the same weight as it had at the start, and due to the sudden passed time you had no choice to head home even if it means getting drenched. but upon chifuyu hearing your reasoning, there was no way he was gonna leave you walking out in the cold rain while he had a perfectly good umbrella, even if he wanted to leave he just couldn't bring himself to.

-- so he did the first thing that came to mind and that was to try and offer his umbrella to you. at first it seemed convenient for you but then the thought of him going out in the rain with nothing bothered you, so obviously you declined. bit of "no it's fine" here and there but after some of those you both came to an agreement to share it.

-- halfway through with you both walking underneath the same umbrella and chatting away to avoid the awkward silence he walked you home without you realising, he had to turn a corner ages ago but willingly chose to stay with you since you both were having an interesting conversation. and sure enough, thump-thump-thump his heart is racing, ever since then you've been on his mind.

• he feels so much about you, butterflies in his stomach and the need to move around because if hes sat still he'd probably snap in half from the excitement that he can't handle when the thought of you appears. he can explode from the overjoy of interacting with you as if it's a rare thing to happen even though it really isn't, you're just that special. he definitely jumps around and about in his room and punches the air silently whilst trying not to cause too much noise. making a whole new cardio work out.

• whenever he's reading his manga and romance comes in he can't help but picture the two characters to be you and chifuyu. he flicks his eyes between the two characters repeatedly even if he's been on the same page for 5mins, he'd still play out the scenario of them being you two. I mean that whole first encounter almost seemed too cliché to not have come straight out of a movie with unrealistic standards. but no, it all really did happened which causes his mind to go in places that you two are almost casted together and made to talk, as if the universe is setting you both up.

• passing your classroom at any chance he gets just to try and get a glimpse at you but while doing so his heart paces like hes just ran a marathon, he hasn't even seen you yet but the anticipation is killing him. and even when it rains on school days again hes not heading straight home but instead he's making his way to your class to see if you're there again waiting for the rain to leave, always hopeful and wishing that you're empty handed without an umbrella or a hood.

°- ran haitani

-- your in an empty room scribbling something in a sketchbook, using both hard and light pencil strokes. doesn't bother ran at all that you're here doing your own little thing but what actually does is that you're sat in his usual seat. normally he wouldn't try to intervene, especially if it's something this petty plus he wasn't all that desperate to stay here for long but even then, he still walked up to you.

-- first instinct that you had when hearing his footsteps was to close your sketchbook shut before looking up, clearly you don't want no one seeing your personal work/drawings. this little thing perked ran's interest, he doesn't know much about art in the form of paper and pencil, but he's still intrigued as to why you chose to hide it that it made him forget about his petty emotion of you sitting in his seat.

-- in short term, he ended up seeing a few of your pages and the reason for it is cause you despise your own work, despite continuing drawing in your own time you seem to always criticise yourself and think harshly on them. but in his eyes he can't help but be in awe of them, he cant understand what's so bad about the drawings. next thing you know he's asking for a drawing of himself, you didn't seem too bothered by the idea as you were about your skill wondering if you could even pull it off but ran managed to convince you.

-- sitting in a chair in front of you as a muse, meeting eye contact as you looked at his features repeatedly to get the right shape of his eyes, nose and lips. him purposely moving a little to see if you'd say something about it and trying to peek over your sketchbook book to see your progress only for you to move it away out of embarrassment. it took a short while but finally seeing himself on a page in dark grey lead made him feel something, not necessarily a major attraction but appreciation even tho he's the one that pressed on the idea.

-- and that's when the butterflies hit, it's a major delayed reaction but the giddy feeling hit after being the muse and grasping the fact that you were able to draw him this well from you analysing his features, something about this made him more seen than he already is. maybe a confidence boost? who knows, even he himself can't figure it out exactly other than feeling warm from the inside out about you.

• no matter how hard he tries to relax around you he always feels blood rushing in his body making him become tense whenever you two have an interaction as small as just saying hi to each other, and once you both pass he sighs out air as if you've caught his breath and didn't let go, though he also ends up smiling after that sigh but it's more or less a mix of a nervous and happy smile, one that makes you to be unsure if you're supposed to be excited or scared.

• i reckon hes a yapper once he gets comfortable enough, anything that comes to mind he can talk and talk about it with you like his life depends on it, but once he's finished speaking he only then realises the things he's said and regrets it all even if the topics he's talked about aren't all that bad but he still gets embarrassed of himself for letting himself get carried away like that to the point where afterwards he speaks in a much shallower tone "...I don't know why I said that, ignore that" it's kinda cute tho.

• you got him twisting and turning, losing focus in certain activities and even his sight of where he's going. at some point he was walking but his eye view was so focused on you that he ended up walking into the metal, water foundation and he had to embarrassingly play it off hoping that no one had seen the doofus walk right into it as his head was turned 80° in your direction.

°- rindou haitani

-- you and him happen to share the same taste in music and favour the same band/Artist, he knew this by overhearing a conversation you had with someone and that made him perk up a little but not enough for him to engage in the conversation. he'd silently listen in to hear what your favourite song is and guess if your a hardcore fan or just a regular

-- despite rindou not being the one to come forward about the mutual interest that you both have, it was you that needed up going up to him after hearing his music escape though his earphones from how loud he set the volume to be. sure he was a little embarrassed after you mentioned it but once you both started talking about the band, something had opened him up as you talked about it with enthusiasm while he was agreeing with everything that you were saying and adding his own little comments, you were both constantly on the same page.

-- hes gained a small interest in you but not enough to catch feelings and be attached, there's plenty of people with the same interest as him and even though he can't find many it doesn't mean that you should be on top of the list. yet.

-- those previous, tamed feelings were immediately thrown out the window after hearing you sing his favourite song when you thought you were alone, he didn't mean to intrude but when he quietly walked in a room to get something he ended up hearing your voice singing along to a favoured song, you immediately became his favourite cover. your tune and enthusiasm had him captivated and stuck. he didn't get the item but instead but he stood outside of the door listening until you stopped.

• when you suddenly appear and make yourself known he gets a little spooked and drops whatever he was holding in his hands (mainly depends on what the item is, as in if it's not fragile and just a pen) its the type of scare that makes his mind go 'oh shit they're here, act cool, act cool' you can just walk into the room and when Rindou looks up to see you its like his whole body does a nervous shut down for a split second. he's normally not like that at all so when that became a common occurrence he swore he was starting to become insane.

• only you're allowed to touch his glasses or gloves or in fact anything that belongs to rindou. sure his brother is an exception but that's to be expected. if anyone else tried to touch his stuff he'd more than just swat their hand away like an annoying pest, but with you? he feels warm and giddy about you picking his glasses up and trying them on yourself, heat rushes up to his face but he always tries to act cool and casual. he just can't shake the thought that you've worn his glasses that he's wearing right now, it almost feels like getting a high five from your favourite celebrity.

• anyone would probably assume Rindou to be a little heartless from him occasionally being nonchalant around others and sure that's true enough but with you? he's flustered, cannot specify enough of it, poor man can't even go a day without his lungs constantly shifting in volume from the way you get him so nervous. he's even grown to stutter a little, not a whole lot but enough for it to be noticed once in a while and each time he looks back on the sentences he's said he always cringes at himself.

 ♡----

[daddysuga101]

Satoru x Reader

Drabble~

Warnings: virginity loss, no protection, blood, cum, short little idea I had

“It hurts Toru.” You whine wrapping your arms around his neck trying to keep yourself from running from the sharp and heavy penetration.

He kisses your cheek stilling his hips.

“I know it hurts.” He tells you. “But I thought you promised to be a good girl and take it?” He teased in your ear. You whined again hot tears staining your cheek and Satoru kisses all over your face.

“I’m sorry it hurts. Is it that bad?” He questions his hand holding your face still so he can look you in the eyes.

You shake your head.

“It just stings a little.” You explain.

“I know it stings, I don’t.. mean to be rough. I’m not used to fucking virgins.”

“We’re not fucking, were making love.” You correct. He laughs.

“Okay I’m not used to making love to virgins.” He says with a playful roll of his eyes.

“Ex virgin.” You correct once more in a huff, sweat beading done your face as he pushes another painful inch inside.

He chuckles wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Yeah I guess you aren’t my good girl virgin anymore.”

“Stop calling me that. I’m not a good girl, or an angel, I’m a woman. Treat me like it Satoru.” You tell him in a whiny tone.

“Okay if you’re not my good girl what does that make you huh? My whore? You wanna be my whore?” He asks, you nod rapidly. He smiles wide.

“Okay, you gotta stop crying then let me break you in though.” He says pushing in once more. And with that final thrust pushes inside fully.

You let out a hushed sob.

“Oh god.” You cry.

“I know baby.” He says,

looking down to where he’s shoved inside you. His cock feels suffocated in you. He can tell your pussy isn’t used to to this.

It’s so innocent the way it flutters around him. The way it squeezes and contracts in pathetic attempts to remove the foreign object from inside it.

Blood trickles in between where his cock and your pussy meet and he can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across his features.

He hopes you don’t notice how his looking at you.

He hopes you can’t see the way he eyes your pussy like he’s claimed it.

But that is what he’s done, isn’t it?

You’re a 23 year old virgin.

He’s 29, he’s fucked his way through so many women and you.

Sweet innocent you.

Wouldn’t let any man even touch your pussy.

But you let him.

You let him inside you.

You’re his now.

“Satoru.” You call out when you see the scary but sexy grin he had on his face.

His face reddens and his smile grows so wide he has to now hide his face in your neck.

“What is it?” You question.

“Nothing it’s just..” He pulls his cock out a little.

“You’re really mine now.” He says pushing back in. You gasp digging your nails into his hard pale back. He bites his lip.

“That’s it baby scar me. Make me bleed.” He says in your ear as his thrusts began to pick up pace.

You’ve never seen him like this. He looks absolutely elated. Absolutely high off of what he’s doing to you.

He looks scary.

And you’re scared by how much it makes you want more.

Soon his thrusts go from painful to tolerable to pleasurable.

“Oh god Toru.” You whine against him.

You don’t warn him when you cum. You just clamp down around his naked cock and he swears he almost nuts in you.

You regret letting him convince you to fuck you raw, because if he feels half as good as you do right, now he’s gonna cum inside.

And he wants too really bad. He wants to see the blood of your virgin pussy mixed with his cum. He wants to cum in you so many times you’ll have no choice but to be pregnant.

God he wants to just burn the box of condoms he has in his room and just fuck you raw always.

He wants to fuck you into the mattress and breed you like a animal.

But he can’t.

So he reluctantly and irritatedly pulls his red, hard, aching cock out and fists himself. Releasing his load on your swollen, bloody pussy.

He stares down you his face covered in sweat, his back covered in scratches and scraps. He looks utterly spent, like he’s ready to more or less pass out.

“Don’t ever let me convince you to fuck you without a condom ever again.” He says pointedly.

“I swear to god next time I’ll get you pregnant if I do.” He says before falling on top of you.

“What if I want that-.”

“Don’t.” He warns.

“I don’t have enough self control to take a joke like that.” He says, you chuckle softly as he kissed your face and cheek.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[bvckleyydiaz]

leap of faith - aaron hotchner

title: leap of faith

summary: sometimes, all you need to find true happiness is to take a leap of faith.

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 1668

warning(s): mention of haley and underage drinking

a/n: so the idea of this story came from the amazingly talented @greg-montgomery's scenario here. all credit for this idea goes to them. if you want some really good hotch fics, please go check them out! i thought it was so cute and just had to write it. hope you guys enjoy!

This is not how I pictured my Tuesday morning at the office going, you think to yourself as Penelope crosses out yet another name from her lists of your potential suitors. With the help of JJ and Emily, she had managed to compile thirty-two names, and more than half of them have already been scrapped. Before today, you had refused every time they had brought up the idea of setting you up on a blind date. That was before you realized that the feelings you held for your boss, Aaron, were far from friendly. You knew that nothing would come of what you were feeling, so you came to Penelope’s office and told her that you would agree to one date.

“What about this one?” Penelope asks as she swipes to the next picture. This guy was not bad-looking, by any means. He looked young, had hazel that glittered with mischief, and there was a boy-next-door charm to him. Something about him seemed so familiar, though. You couldn’t quite place it. “His name is Thomas, he’s twenty-seven, and he works in the Cyber Response department.”

“He looks like a younger version of Hotch,” Emily remarks from her place to your right.

Penelope tilts her head and seems to consider this. “Huh. Now that you point it out, I can’t unsee it.” She looks at you. “What do you think, Y/N?”

Truthfully, you could see the tiniest bit of a resemblance between the two of them, but you know that this man would never compare to Aaron—Hotch. But you know that nothing will happen between you and Hotch. So, you see this as the perfect opportunity to start moving on. “He’s cute,” you tell Penelope. “I’ll give him a chance.”

Letting out a giddy squeal, she scribbles down his number and hands it to you. You text him as soon you leave Penelope’s office, introducing yourself, telling him that your friend from the office had told you about him, and asking him if he wanted to go out sometime.

Sure. Thomas writes back after a few minutes, Does Friday at eight sound good to you? There is a new Mediterranean place a few blocks away from my office I want to take you to.

It’s a date! I love Mediterranean food. :)

--

Friday comes faster than you expect it to. You’d made sure to bring a change of clothes and a bag of your favorite makeup to save you the half-hour drive back to your apartment to get ready. The dress you’re wearing is a little red number, courtesy of Emily, with a slit up your both your thighs and tiny straps holding it to your body. The first time you tried it on, you didn’t think your body would fill the dress out as well as hers did, but it fit like a glove. You felt confident in the dress; you felt sexy. It was the motivation you needed to not back out of the date.

You’re touching up your lipstick when a voice brings out of your thoughts. “I thought you left hours ago.”

It’s Aaron. “Hotch.”

He tilts his head, and the cute little frown he wears when he’s confused appears. “What are you still doing here? You should be at home getting some rest.”

“I have a date tonight, and I didn’t want to drive the thirty minutes home to get ready when the restaurant is only a couple of blocks away,” you explain, and he nods. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know how I let the girls talk me into going. I mean, I trust them with my life, but…” You laugh quietly to yourself.

“They just want to see you have fun and not focus on work all the time. We all deserve time to ourselves every now and again.” A small smile of his own comes over his face, and it makes your heart stutter in your chest. “At least that’s what Penelope told me before she tried to set me up on a date of my own.”

Your quiet laugh turns into incessant giggles. “Oh, I would’ve loved to see how that went.”

He shakes his head fondly. “Penelope meant well, but the woman and I didn’t click. Plus, I think it was too soon after my divorce from Haley. I wasn’t ready to let myself date again.”

You nod. “I understand that.” You stand from your chair and smooth out your dress with your palms, looking up at your boss. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Aaron tells you, but there’s something in his expression as he says it. You don’t know what to call it.

“Thank you.”

“I should let you get to your date. Have a good night, Y/N.” He turns and makes his way back to his office.

You are on your way out of the bullpen when—and you don’t know what compels you to do it, either—you look back at Hotch. The blinds to office are pulled open, but you notice a shift in his posture. His shoulders are drawn tight like a cord that’s about to snap, the expression void of the playfulness that was there not even two minutes ago.

You dig your phone out of your purse and text your date. Hey, Thomas! It’s Y/N. I’m sorry that this is so last minute, but something came up at the office. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight. You walk up the stairs to Hotch’s office and knock on the door. “Y/N?” He asks when he opens the door. “Did you forget something?”

You shake your head. “No. My date cancelled on me.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s fine, it was only a date. I don’t think it would’ve worked out anyway.” You look past his shoulder into his office. “What are you still doing here?”

He lifts a file folder into your line of sight. “Paperwork for our most recent case. I wanted to start on it before we’re called on a new one.”

“Do I mind if I join you?”

He purses his lips in confusion. “Of course I don’t mind, but all I’d be doing is paperwork. You’d have more fun watching paint dry.”

“Well, since my night is now free, all I’d be doing is taking a shower and having a hot date with my couch and a bottle of wine.” You smile at your boss. “Besides, I wouldn’t be watching. I’d be helping.”

Hotch shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Hotch, I mean this with every ounce of respect and admiration I have for you, which is a lot, but please just shut up and let me help you.” He lets out a laugh in surprise. “I know that I don’t have to help, but I want to. Please let me.”

He steps to the side to let you come into his office, and you take a seat on his couch. “So, what can I do, boss?”

He smiles at his place from behind his desk. “Will you read me my notes from the file next to you? I’d like to put them in the report.”

You nod. “Sure thing.” You pick up the file to your left and flip it open, Hotch’s notes scribbled onto post-it notes stuck to the paper. “You ready?”

--

“No way,” you exclaim through your fit laughter. “No way that happened!”

The table in front of you is littered with takeout boxes. You and Aaron sit next to each other on the small couch, your knees grazing. Aaron’s half-empty container of beef Lo Mein sits in his lap while you hold your nearly full container of veggie fried rice.

“Well, it did,” Aaron’s smile stretches from ear to ear. “I’m sure there’s still evidence of it lurking somewhere on the internet.”

“I just… I have a hard time believing that Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the FBI Behavioral Analysis, jumped off the roof of a two-story house into a pool.” You spoon more of your rice into your mouth.  “It’s so out of character for you.”

“In my defense, I was sixteen and thought I was invincible. I may also have been drunk.”

“Huh. Aaron the troublemaker? Never would have pegged you that way.”

He tries to hide his smile under a bite of his Lo Mein. “There are a lot of things about me that will surprise you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

Aaron tilts his head. “You know, now that I think about it, I never found out if that punch had been spiked or not.”

This causes you to dissolve into giggles.

--

“So, Y/N,” Emily asks as she walks through the bullpen the next morning with Penelope and JJ in tow, “how did it go last night?”

Penelope bumps her shoulder into yours. “Yeah. I want to know everything!”

Morgan looks up at the three of you from his desk, and Spencer does the same from his own. “What happened last night?”

“I was supposed to go on a date last, but it got cancelled last minute,” you tell them and then look between Penelope and Emily. “So, there’s nothing to tell.”

“That sucks,” JJ laments. You shrug and tell her that you weren’t really worried about it. There’s a lull in the conversation until you spot Aaron walking past the bullpen to his office.

You smile. “Morning, Aaron!”

He turns to you and returns your smile. “Morning, Y/N.”

Penelope, Emily, JJ, and Derek all turn to you once Aaron is out of earshot. “Aaron?” JJ asks, a tone of pleasant surprise coloring her voice.

You shrug nonchalantly, a small smile coming to your lips. “I’m solving a mystery,” you tell them before making your way to your desk.

The four of them share looks of bewilderment before Spencer speaks up. “You guys didn’t know? I could see it from a mile away.”

[literaila]

ten minute walk 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: 

“i’m going to punch you in the spleen.” 

“you don’t even know where my spleen is.” 

“only one way to find out.” 

warnings: my dearest fluff 

a/n: i’ve just become aware of how much my characters argue. i’ve no excuse except for arguings fun. 

*

"it's okay, peter." you smile at him, feeling something inside your chest yearning to escape. "really." 

he raises a brow at you, questioning your sanity. "you think that's going to change my mind? 'it's okay?'" 

you frown. "i'll be fine." 

"well, i won't." 

and he grabs your hand--without asking because this is normal now--pulling you with him as he begins to walk. he could be leading you anywhere. taking you down any path--foreign and unknown and completely fine as long as you're with peter. 

as long as he takes you with him, you're willing to go. as long as he keeps holding your hand. 

and even though you already know, you don't ask anyway. it doesn't much matter. 

"it's a ten-minute walk." 

you scrap your feet against the pavement, effectively getting him to stop even though he pulls at your arm. 

there are remnants of pleading in his eyes; a yearning of your heart to just let him lead you along. 

but you refuse to listen to your inhibitions. 

"ten minutes for anything to happen." 

"nothing's going to happen," you give an inkling of a smile, hoping to persuade him. 

peter does the same because he's not stupid. "it's ten more minutes that i get to spend with you." 

you snatch your hand away from him as if burned by his sickly sweet tone. 

you snort. "you get to walk home alone." 

"i'm not gonna walk." 

"peter, i'm trying to get you to bed on time." 

"sweetheart, i'm trying not to go crazy worrying about you." 

you raise a brow. cross your arms, making sure that he can't reach. "this is purely self-serving," you complain. 

"yup." 

and if you were to look at him, really--which you're not because you refuse to lose this game again--you might see the unspoken words in his eyes. you might just catch the tenderness. 

the push and pull of his lips, the falling apart, and daring to breathe. 

you might just catch his smile. 

"c'mon," peter says, taking a step forward and leaning his head down towards you. "it's getting late." 

"it's going to be later if you walk me home." 

he wraps an arm around your shoulder, effectively spinning you around so that he can begin pulling you along. dragging you across the pavement like you're a child. 

which, in hindsight, isn't too far off. 

"peter," you whine. 

"the more you argue the later it's going to be," peter chides softly, right in your ear. 

because he knows how to break you down. 

he's done it enough times, convinced you to follow him blindly with only a couple of pleas, kissed your skin until sensibility was a meek thing--not as potent as the way peter whispers in your ear. 

you shiver, trying to shake him off. 

and you can feel his breath when he laughs. 

still, there are the smallest parts of you that need him to let you go. that need a moment to remember what it's like to be normal, and thoughtful. 

and not broken at the idea of holding his hand. 

"i'm going to hit you in the spleen." 

resorting to violence is the only option. 

peter laughs louder, voice echoing in the air. "you don't even know where my spleen is." 

"only one way to find out." 

so peter removes his arm from around you, hand reaching out to grab your face and pull you towards him. 

your feet seem to go without an ounce of restraint; your eyes don't, because you look at the ground, wondering about germs. 

about how close you have to be to someone to melt into them. 

"hey," he says, softly, smiling--you can hear it. "look at me." 

you do, but only because you want to see him. 

you want to see the honeysuckle, the tight little lines on his skin that tell you more than just one story. 

"just let me walk you home," peter whispers to you, fingertips brushing over your ears and down your neck. "it'll make me feel better." 

"i just don't get why i can't--" 

"do you know how many people i see each night, walking by themselves?" 

you swallow, eyes meeting eyes. skin far too close to yours. 

"it's not worth it, baby," he says, a quirk of his lip. "even though i know you just want to argue with me." 

your brows furrow. "i don't argue." 

"yeah," peter laughs. "you do." 

"only when you're being stupid." 

you can feel his breath against your skin. his hands haven't left, and his eyes are permanently stuck on you, apparently. 

"peter," you say when he doesn't. 

"it's only ten minutes," he says, as an argument to himself. "please?" 

and it might just be the way he's looking at you--magic in his eyes, lighting up your face far more than any streetlight could--soft and smooth and so lovely. 

it might be his pleading smile. it might be because he knows you so well, knows just where to push and pull you. 

but eventually, when staring at more than just his eyes, you nod. 

peter chuckles, against your face. "good." 

you frown. 

"if you'd said no i was gonna have to follow you home." 

"objection." 

peter still hasn't moved. 

you still refuse to breathe. 

still got that annoying pulling of your chest. the want to be alone just so you can exhale. 

but peter is there because you're not going to tell him to leave. because you don't think you can. 

you smile at him, finally. maybe it's because he's smiling back. 

"let's go," he whispers to you. "it's getting late." 

but not before he kisses you, soft and relentless. 

*

my masterlist here.

tags: @moonlarking-blog​​​ @v1ci0us​​​ @preciousbabypeter​​​ @alexxavicry​​​ @directioner5life​​​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah​​​ @localrockstargf​​​  

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART II

━─━────༺༻────━─━

|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || <- part i || part iii -> coming soon || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

━─━────༺༻────━─━

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, eventual forced feeding, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: this is the second part of my lil series for @lorelune spring fever collab!!

━─━────༺༻────━─━

The mission that Suguru sends you on is to fetch a book. 

At first, you are endlessly irritated with him. A book should be far beneath you; he should’ve had one of his lackeys get it for him. 

However, upon finally getting your hands on it–after a nasty fight with both curses and other sorcerers–you realize that perhaps the book is rather important.

Firstly, you can’t open it on your own. It’s imbued with cursed energy and locked tight. And secondly, the energy it gives off is strange. 

It fills you with a restless, relentless sort of buzz. You feel like a caged beast with it in your presence. You feel like–

You feel a little off-kilter. A little hungry for a fight. 

On the third day, you come home. 

You let yourself into Suguru’s quarters. 

He’s in his study, at his desk, when you barge in and throw the book down onto the desk. 

Suguru picks up his gaze. 

“You’re back early,” he muses, drinking you in with greedy eyes, “clearly it was no trouble?” 

“Hardly.” You snap, “hoping I’d be away for longer?”

A quirk at the corner of his lips, “not at all. In fact, I was impatient for your return.” 

Heat whips the back of your neck.

“Come here,” he hums, “let me see you.” 

He offers his hand up. He wants you to step around the desk to stand in front of him, you think. 

Tentatively, you go to him, round the desk and step up to him. He turns and settles deeper into the desk chair, spreads his legs so that you may even step up between them. 

You slide your hand into his slowly. 

He pulls you a step closer. And closer still. 

“No injuries?” He asks, eyes skimming over your body. 

You swallow and shake your head. 

“Good,” he sighs and then he pulls a little harder on your hand. And his other hand suddenly hitches around the back of your knee. All it takes is a little effort on his part, and you’re stumbling into his lap. 

You throw your hands out to find balance in his broad shoulders, clinging to him, holding yourself out from him. 

“Suguru,” you growl in annoyance, fussing, fighting against him a little. 

You can feel his smile the moment he dips his face towards the crook of your neck, “did it help to have my scent on you?” 

You dig your nails into his shoulders, as if to be spiteful, despite what you say, “it always does.” 

He hums, pleased, and drags his nose along your throat again.

He pulls away to look at you, bristled and embarrassed. 

“Go bathe,” he tells you, “and wear my clothes. I want you to stay here tonight.” 

You jerk back a little, surprised, “and if I refuse?” 

“I wasn’t asking.” He says flippantly. 

You scoff, moving to stand, “I’m going back to my room.” 

His hand squeezes your waist tightly and prevents you from leaving him, from separating yourself from him, “I see the time away hasn’t made you any softer.” 

“Let me go,” you push at his chest, “let me up.” 

Instead, he catches one of your wrists, holding it to his chest with his large hand. He nearly drowns your hand, overwhelms it entirely. 

“Do as I ask, and I’ll let you go.” 

You make a noise of irritation, “I won’t share a bed with you.” 

“I’ll be good,” he purrs, but even as he says that, you feel his hips flex beneath yours a little, opening, widening his stance. 

“I’m not stupid,” you hiss, trying to lift off him a little, but he’s got too tight of a grip on your waist. 

“I’ll rub your tense shoulders,” he torments you, and then, his smile grows like that of a fox, “I know you like to sleep in my bed.” 

Your heart rabbits in your chest. 

“I’ve never slept in your bed,” you snip. 

He laughs, low and soft and outright. “There’s no reason to lie now,” he says, languidly leaning back in his seat a little. “You slept in my bed while I was away.” 

Your cheeks prickle with warmth, embarrassment. 

“I didn’t–”

“I know you’re embarrassed, but don’t lie to me.” He says it seriously, eyes suddenly going colder. 

And just like that, you open your mouth—

“I did once.” 

Suguru seems pleased, thumb rubbing over the back of your hand that he still has trapped against his chest. “Now you will again.” 

You huff. And you understand there is little to win in this case; you could fight harder, snarl and snap and try to leave on your own. 

(But there is that horrendously small and foolish part of you that does want to stay. It wants what he has offered you.) 

“On one condition.”

“Name it.” 

He seems serious in knowing your request—earnest, almost.

Your voice sticks in your throat. You try to form your words carefully, “you won’t do anything—sexual. At all. Not while I’m asleep and—there’s no tricks.” 

“What kind of Alpha do you take me for?” Suguru asks innocently and level him with a glare. 

“Suguru—“ 

“No tricks.” He agrees quickly. 

“Nothing.” You tell him sternly. 

“Not even if you beg for it?” 

“I wouldn’t!” You snap, nails flexing back into the meat of his shoulder. The one at his chest bunches in his clothes beneath his own hand. 

He laughs a little again, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand to soothe you. “Easy, sweet girl, okay. You have my promise; I won’t do anything sexual. No tricks.” 

But the way he says it makes warning bells go off in your mind, distant and wailing. Still, you have his word. 

He suddenly takes your chin in hand and guides you to look into his eyes, deeply amethyst, darkly lilac.

 “I do mean it.” He says sternly now, and then, “the first time I have you, it will be because you came to me, and begged, with a clear head and open heart.” 

You try and jerk your chin from his grasp but he holds tighter, forcing you to stay, “do you understand?” 

“I would never—“

“Ah, ah, do you understand?” 

“Yes!” You snap and when you jerk away this time, he lets you go. All of you. 

You leap from him on unsteady feet, rocking back a little, steadying yourself on the desk. 

“Go,” he encourages, “take a bath. And choose any of my clothes you like.” 

You swallow hard and glare at him. 

“I don’t need your orders.” You grind out.

“Yes, so fearsome you are,” Suguru waves you off and you almost have half a mind to surge back towards him and make him regret saying that. You’re feeling prickly, though, and something inside of you has knocked loose.

You’ve been blaming it on the book.

You’re flushed from the inside out, heated, and frustrated. 

You stomp off towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. 

*

*

*

The bath actually does soothe some of your mood. The bathtub is large and clean; the soaps you used smell faintly of Suguru. The water had been perfect and you’d managed to relax and sink down to your shoulders.��

And dressing in his clothes after does more for you than you’re willing to admit. You’re just in an old, soft t-shirt of his. It’s large on your frame and it smells like him, which soothes you in a way that is almost frightening. 

When you enter the bedroom, Suguru is not there yet and you assume he is still in his office. You almost hope that he is, that you’ll have time to get comfortable, without his watchful eyes. 

You arrange the pillows how you like and when you’re satisfied with your side, you slip beneath the covers and into the cool sheets. You turn and twist a moment, burrowing deeper beneath the blankets, before letting out a little noise of contentment. It slips from you before you can stop it. 

And just when you’re beginning to drift off, faintly wondering if Suguru will ever join you, does he finally step into his bedroom. He takes you in and his scent almost changes with it—sweeter, a little darker. You can tell he’s pleased with you. 

When he joins you in bed, you go perfectly still. He’s bare chested and you almost want to complain about it—instead, you squirm away from him. 

It doesn’t get you far and once he’s beside you, he’s reaching out to lay his hand across the expanse of your waist. 

You are about to warn him, bite something out about staying on his side, or to watch himself. But he doesn’t pull you or drag you towards him. He doesn’t roll towards you. 

His hand stays, on your waist, drifts to be on your lower back. 

The first pass of his hand over your back makes you tense all over, muscles poised to snap or leap away from him. The second, you can feel your breathing tighten up. The third, you realize that this may be it. 

You wait, near trembling, as he continues to soothe his hand over your back. Up and down. A slow petting, over the shirt of his you’d worn to bed. 

And eventually, you begin to melt; all those tense muscles slowly unwinding. 

Then you’re sighing, soft, into the pillow. 

Your eyes grow heavy, breath beginning to loosen and even out, slow and deep. 

Sleep claims you gently, eases you into its tender embrace, like cooing a baby to sleep, like soothing a stray. 

***

In the morning, you wake alone. The bed beside you is empty.

You are almost disheartened to see it. The initial disappointment rears its head, sinks into your stomach, before you try to shoo it away. 

But when you listen closely, you can hear him in the kitchen moving about. His footsteps are quiet but there. 

Instinctively, the part of you attuned to him, knows he is near. 

It soothes you. 

You twist a little, throwing some blankets from your body—warmer than usual, a little flushed.

You blame it on the sun streaming through the wide window, the warmth as it seeps into the sheets. You doze again like this, in its beams, covers astray around your legs, curled around one of the several pillows. 

In and out of sleep. Hazy, burning flickers of dreams. 

When you fully wake again, an hour later, you are even warmer than before.

You feel a little strange. Chilled atop your skin, a little shivery, but so warm from within. 

You blame it on nerves; perhaps you don’t want to face Suguru after staying in his bed. Perhaps being away from your own bed has made you anxious, too. As much as you try to hide any of your baser urges, your space is important to you. Your bed is important. 

You know you can’t hide from him forever. 

More than that, you want water, perhaps. Ice water. You feel parched suddenly. You feel dehydrated. 

When you enter the kitchen, you are surprised to find water already out. A bowl of cut up fruit beside it. Suguru is reading in the attached living room.

You look at him. And then at the fruit.

“It’s for you,” he says, without looking up from his book. 

You blink at him.

“Why?”

His brows arch upward and he finally pulls his dark eyes away from the page in order to look at you. 

“Because you should eat.” 

Something inside you, under immense pressure, finally bursts.

“Don’t start doing this shit.” You snap.

Your tone perhaps takes him by surprise. It’s full of vitriol, it’s full of heat and hatred. “Don’t start doing domestic shit for me.” 

“And here I was, thinking I’d do something kind after all this tormenting.” He says but it’s really rather amused. Knowing.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” You snarl at him. 

He looks you over carefully and something in his face changes—just a small, almost unnoticeable flicker. He asks;

“How do you feel?”

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“What did you do?” You accuse suddenly. 

“What did I do? Nothing. I cut up a bowl of fruit for you.” 

You can feel your threads unwinding, fraying at the edges, and can feel the way it unravels inside you.

Your head is beginning to throb. 

Your stomach gives a strange churn. 

“That’s not—that’s not true. I feel strange and you did something.” You say and your voice is getting tighter, almost distressed. 

“Strange how?” He asks coolly. 

“I feel—I feel like I’m sick. Maybe.”

He hums softly. 

And then, “it’s your Heat.”

A dull, soft roaring in your ears. You swallow and the sound clicks around in your throat, your head.

“No—“ you start, “there’s no way.”

“I can smell it,” he says, “you’ve been on the cusp of it for some time now.”

You frown and feel for your head with your open palm, warm to the touch. Feverish. You want to squirm out of your own skin.

“I haven’t had one in years—there’s no way.” You say again but your voice sounds thinner, less believable.

Your eyes flash upwards, “you did this.” 

Suguru looks back at you blankly, “I can’t force your body into Heat.” 

“That’s why you wanted me to stay.” You accuse.

“Perhaps I’m feeling territorial.” He agrees.

“No, you wanted me to stay in hopes of it sparking my Heat—you know an Omega’s Heat can be triggered by an Alpha’s presence sometimes.” 

Suguru remains even, almost gentle, “and you know that that can only happen when an Omega has a pre-established and trusted relationship with the Alpha. Only if the Omega—in some way—wants the Alpha in their presence.” 

You swallow hard. You feel light headed. 

“Alphas can’t just spark the Heat of any random Omega.” He adds, watching you carefully. 

“But you were hoping for this!” You snap, feeling thin and worn down suddenly, “you—you wanted this.”

“I was curious if it’d work.” He admits.

“You set me up.” Your voice is higher than usual, more distressed, filled with more concern. 

“Now, now—“

“I want to go back to my room.” You demand suddenly, “before—before it gets too late. And I don’t want to see you at all until it’s over. I don’t want to see anyone.” You’re beginning to tremble all over. 

You can feel your fear mounting as you stare down the realization that you’re going to have your first Heat in years. 

Tears prick your eyes. 

“You’re staying here.” Suguru says simply. 

“No—“ you bite out, all teeth, all fear and aggression. “I’m getting away from you.” 

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Suguru replies coolly, but there’s a sharp, icy edge in his tone, as if dealing with an unruly and temperamental child.

Immediately, you have the urge to start snarling and yelling and stamping your feet. You feel like the unruly child he is treating you as. You can feel your anger and fear like a bubble in your chest, mounting into something horrible, and you’re terrified to let it burst.

Suguru stands slowly, “you’re spiraling—come here.”

“No,” you snap, wincing back from him. 

Suguru holds your gaze.

“Then listen to me carefully.” 

Your eyes, glassy with fever and fear, a little too bright, collide with his.

“What did I tell you last night?” He asks slowly. 

Your flush worsens. You can feel the heat burn and eat through your cheeks. You want to run and hide, you want to lash out and growl. 

“I-I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Take a breath.” 

Despite everything, you take in a shuddering, greedy gulp of air.

“What did I tell you last night?” 

You rack your mind, forcing yourself to focus on his voice and breathe. What did he say last night that would be of importance today? Now?

You swallow hard when you realize it.

You pick your head up. 

“You wouldn’t—do anything—if I wasn’t in my right mind and I’m not.”

“No,” he agrees, “you aren’t. So I will not touch you sexually—” And then he holds your gaze for too long, “not even when you beg me.” 

“I will not beg you—“ 

“I will hold you and care for you. But I will not give you what you so desperately will want.” He says slowly, carefully. 

Blindly, you reach—and for what, you aren’t quite sure, “what about you? Will I spark your Rut?”

“I’ve taken a suppressant and will continue to do so.” 

“You planned this,” you say again sharply, “you knew.” 

“Would you prefer I not take the suppressant? Would you like to see what happens—will it make it fair for you?” Suguru asks calmly, so lax that it makes your hands ball into tight fists. 

Pieces of you war and squabble and fight inside of you, opposing forces, opposing ideas. Part of you wants to force him to suffer, too, part of you is angry and hurt that he wouldn’t want to share his Rut with you.

But it also frightens you. You know what would happen then—aren’t too sure it still won’t happen now. 

And you’ve never—

You’ve never shared a heat before. Not with an Alpha, an Omega, or a Beta. You have always ran and hid, tucked yourself into small, dark places, and cried and cried alone, hugging yourself. Weathering your own storm. 

You can’t decide if it terrifies you more that you won’t be alone or that you don’t want to be alone. 

Despite everything, your bitter rationale wins. 

“No,” you bite out. “Take your suppressant. And keep your hands to yourself.” 

You turn on your heel and storm back into the bedroom. 

You slam the door so hard that it slants cockeyed on its hinges, hanging itself in place at a strange angle.

You throw yourself down onto the bed, shoving your face into the pillow you’d once been sleeping peacefully on, and a frustrated scream rips through your throat.

You can feel the pressure of tears.

You curl around the pillow, hugging it closely with your face still shoved into it. Your tears blur and push past all your resolve, which crumbles to dust the moment you let out the first breath, and it’s part sob.

You can’t even properly name why you’re crying—you’re scared, you think. You’re emotional and frustrated and aching. You feel vulnerable and confused and bitter. You feel needy and delicate. You feel suddenly young and foolish, to be lured here like this, but also to be alone and longing.

You’re hardly alone, though. 

You can smell his scent still, all over the bed, all over you. 

It soothes you. 

It sickens you that it soothes you.

So you cry—you cry, holding onto your pillow for dear life, until you exhaust yourself.

Until sleep claims your feverish body again and you welcome it’s darkness gladly.

***

Pain awakens you. 

It’s later in the afternoon now, early evening with the way the sun has paved its course through the sky. 

Your Heat has gotten significantly worse.

Your body aches, the chill of the fever, and the sickly warmth of your insides  make for an awful combination.

Worst of all, you can feel the pressure most between your legs.

You shift them and realize there’s—

There’s a slick glide against your inner thighs. 

Oh, god, you think oh, god, oh god, oh god.

You need—

Water. Something.

Suguru— 

Your brain freezes to a halt.

His name spins around your mind.

You half hope he won’t be there that if you leave the bedroom in search of water or—

Suppressants.

You roll to the edge of the bed, a wave of dizziness overcomes you. Despite that, you force yourself to stand on wobbling, fawn legs.

You quietly try to crack the door into the smallest of openings, only a peak, a sliver of light from the other room. 

But instantly, you are caught.

“You’re awake finally.” Suguru says, “you should drink water, eat a little.” 

You don’t budge at first. 

“Do you have more suppressants?” 

You watch Suguru’s head tilt. 

“It's specific to an Alpha’s Rut—it wouldn’t do anything for you.” He answers, “will you come out?” 

“No.” You respond, gripping the knob of the door with curled knuckles, tense fingers. 

“Will you let me in?” 

“No.” 

It’s growled, low and sharp. It echoes a little, charged and bristled. Scared. 

You slam the door again. It’s not sitting right on its hinges anymore. 

You return to the bed, arranging and fluffing pillows how you like them. You build a small wall of them on all sides of you, 

You burrow down into them, settling yourself into the small—nest—you’ve made. You try to take a steadying breath, but all that fills your nose is Suguru’s scent, dark fig and full sandalwood, hints of lush cream and walnut. It’s seductive—almost dreamy. It floats around you like a lure, tempting you. You curl inwards on a pillow again and his smell is stronger here. Deeper. More pungent and twinged with something heavier on the nose, a little more spiced, a scent you can’t place. Something you’d find at the nape of his neck. 

Without thinking, you rub your thighs together. 

A frustrated whine leaks out of you as you turn and toss in his bed. 

Your fingers twist in the sheets. 

“If I hand you water, will you drink it?” Suguru asks through the door and he is much closer than you thought he’d be now—just outside of it. 

“Please go away,” you try to snap, but your voice is strained and wane. 

“You need water, at least.” He sighs. “You haven’t eaten anything yet, either.” 

You bristle, “stop trying to take care of me.” 

“Stop being so stubborn.” Suguru replies, “I’m going to come in.” 

“No!” You snarl. 

Still, the doorknob twists slowly, gently, as if to not frighten you anymore than you already are. In a heartbeat, the door has creaked open and Suguru steps into your space. He has a glass of water in hand. 

You feel your hackles rise, shoulders drawing back and up like an aggressive, bad dog. Your cursed energy ripples around you as you growl and it’s not the humanly sort, but the one you have in your cursed form. 

“So fierce, aren’t you?” Suguru muses softly, taking slow steps towards the nest you’ve made. “I’m only here to give you water.” 

The closer he gets, the lower the growl gets.

Your muscles are so tense that you’re near trembling, as still as can be—unsure if you’re the prey or predator, some inbetween creature too frightened to do anything but be still, but make low threatening, inhuman noises. 

He manages to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“And so frightened.” He ducks his head a little in what could be a show of submission if it came from an Omega. “I told you—I’m not going to do anything to you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Don’t you trust me?” He asks and this time, he catches your eyes, a flicker of something darker in them. 

“Not like this—” you manage to get out. 

“You’re so tense.” 

“I’m—” the word catches, breaks from your throat, “scared.” 

Suguru softens instantly.

(And if you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s almost pleased. His scent softens, too, sweetens a little.) 

“How would you like me to prove myself this time?” Suguru asks lowly, “would you like to make me bleed again? Would you like to scream at me?” He cocks his head, “or would you like me to hold you? And nothing else?” 

You’re trembling so hard that your teeth are almost chattering with it. 

You realize very keenly that you want to be held. You want to be wrapped up in him, you want to be in his arms. You want. 

“N-no.” You manage to get out. 

“No?” He asks, “in the least, will you drink water for me?” In his broad hand is a glass of cool water, nearly drowning it with his own easy grip over top of it. 

The request is like honey. 

It's sweet in the veins, it’s meant to lure you.

Your mouth is dry. And your temples are throbbing.  

You feel shaky and suddenly realize how weak you are, a little woozy after everything. Perhaps out of fear. Perhaps because he’s right, you haven’t eaten or drank anything all day. It’s nearly evening now. 

Perhaps it’s because of your first Heat in years. 

Slowly, you extend your hand to take the glass from him.

It’s shaking. Hard. 

“Will you allow me?” Suguru asks. 

You bristle, “just—give it to me—” 

“You’re shaking so hard, you’ll spill it.” He responds evenly. 

“I’m not a child.” You snap.

“You’re acting like one,” he says and there’s a smile in it, a little shadow of torment. And then he lowers his voice, soft and dark, “come here.” 

You almost go to him. 

“Stop it.” You bite out, “stop trying to do that.” 

“What am I doing?” He asks, “trying to help you?” 

“No! You know what you’re doing! You’re trying to—to sway me or something!” 

Suguru sighs, “come here.” He says again and it’s gentler now. 

You glare at him, eyes glassy with fever, with anger and fear. 

But he waits patiently. Serenely. He doesn’t give in, he doesn’t waver. You glance at the water in his hands and then back up at his face. He’s so calm, in the face of all your fright and anguish and discomfort. In fact, he seems to revel in it. Bask in it. 

Tears build suddenly in your eyes, much to your fury. Much to your frustration. The pressure behind your eyes is enough to leave you aching, a lump forming in your throat. 

Instantly, Suguru coos, “oh, what’s wrong?” 

You fight the urge to let out a sob or cry harder. 

“Why must you humiliate me?” You ask suddenly. The tears fall despite your best attempts at stopping them. “Why must you torment me?” 

Suguru sets the glass of water down on the nightstand beside the bed. 

In an instant, he’s gathered you into his arms, into his lap. He cradles you, tucks your head beneath his chin and carefully bundles you into the crux of his chest. 

This makes a small sob work it’s way out of you.

He shushes you gently, rocks you a little, “I’m not trying to torment you.” 

“Yes, you are,” you cry, outright, even as you turn your face into his chest to hide there. Even as you cling to him.

“I’m trying to take care of you—is being taken care of humiliating?” 

“Yes,” you get out between another rough sob. 

His hand strokes slowly over your back, pressing you deeper into his chest—his scent is strong here. Dark oud. Sandalwood. Fig. It’s rich, as if he’s pleased or content, almost humming with it.

Perhaps to try and soothe you. Perhaps because it really does please him to have you crying, falling apart in his arms.

You can’t stop the emotions that rise inside you like a tidal wave, can’t stop the way you just want to cling to him. It’s horrible, you cry harder, because it does feel good to be held by him. To be cooed to.

Taken care of.

He rocks you like a mother might rock their child. 

He rocks you until you settle down, until you’re sniffling and going lax in his arms.

You peak up at him through an angry, wet eye. 

“You’re an awful man.” 

“I know,” he agrees gently, reaching up to touch carefully at your cheek, to wipe away your tears with his thumb.

“You torment me.”

“I know,” he consoles softly.

Your head is spinning with him, heady, and filled with pressure. You sniffle hard. His arms around you are warm and strong. He’s so broad. He shrouds you in him, tucks you into him where you might feel safer. He smells heavenly—enough that you think about turning your nose into his throat and scenting him. You think of sinking your teeth down into him.

He strokes the hair from your face gently. 

You realize keenly that he is not going to leave you. 

Not now, during this Heat, or perhaps ever. 

You realize that you have gotten yourself straight into the belly of the beast. You have gotten yourself entangled with someone who you don’t think has ever let go of anything in his life. You think he bites and doesn’t release, jaws tight and locked, and you think you have gotten yourself between his teeth this time. 

A strange peace settles over you at the knowledge.

He won’t leave you.

And if you left him, he’d chase you down. 

How long have you wished for that? For someone to never leave? How long have you wished for some form of peace? 

Is this peace? 

When he reaches to lift the glass of water again, you do not fight him.

Carefully, he cradles the back of your skull with the crux of his large palm. He holds the glass to your lips. You let him. With a tenderness that makes you feel strange, he lets you drink from the cup. Cool water. 

You’re thirstier than you realize. 

Your hands come up like you may touch the glass, hold it yourself, but he pulls it away. 

God forbid he let you do it on your own. 

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand. You can’t help but glare at him again—he’d begged to do it for you and now, right when you wanted more, he denies you. 

Again, you ask yourself, is this peace? 

A cramp rolls through your lower back and the ache between your legs strengthens into a horrible throb. 

The whimper that gets torn out of you is a pained and high sound. New tears sting your eyes for entirely different reasons. Your skin feels hypersensitive, prickling with every touch, every place you meet. You shiver. Another cramp, somewhere low in your hip bones, rocks throughout your body. 

Your fist tightens in his clothes. You shift with the smallest, most subtle rock in your pelvis. You grit your teeth together.

You realize the ache in your center; the pressure. 

“Hurts,” you eke out, breath tight in your chest. 

You take a shallow breath. 

“Where does it hurt?” He asks, stroking over your arms, your shoulders—petting you. 

You narrow your eyes in another weak glare. 

“You’re being cruel again.” You get out.

“Tell me where,” he murmurs. 

“My lower back—“ you manage to get out, squirming again, “my—my hips,” 

He hums lightly in praise and then coaxes, “lay on your stomach?” 

You shake your head sharply, “no—what are you going to do?”

“Massage your lower back. Nothing more.” He urges you this time physically, jostling you from the cradle of his arms, from his lap. 

“I give you an inch and you take a mile,” you tell him, easing out of his embrace. 

He doesn’t let you go far. 

“Lay on your stomach for me.” He says again, voice warmer and soft to your ears, like oozing honey. 

Against all of the alarm bells rattling and clanging in your mind, you turn and lay on your belly. 

You fold your arms beneath your head. You rest your cheek against them. 

You try not to squirm as another cramp bears down on you, deep pressure pulsing in your lower hips. You twist a little, a breath of pain working its way out of you, hissing between your clenched teeth. 

Suguru takes position behind you and panic seizes you the moment that he straddles the back of your thighs. He almost—

“Suguru—” you warn and the sound is half growl, half whine. Your voice is torn by something terrible and raw. Fear. Anger. 

“I’m keeping my word,” he soothes and in a moment, his big hands are fitting to your lower back. You are so tense, you think you’re going to shake apart again, so tense that you’re going to splinter and crack under the pressure. You hold perfectly still. 

But just like before, all he does is move his hand over the length of your back. 

He coos. 

He hushes when you make a noise. 

He soothes. 

His hands, warm and firm, work their way through stiff muscles, through the awful pain of the cramps. 

Slowly, you begin to melt into the bed beneath you. Your head lolls deeper into your folded arms. Your eyes grow heavy, lashes sinking and fluttering, like wings now soaking wet—trying, and failing, to rise.

His hands are careful around the contours of you. He rubs at your neck, but is cautious of your scent glands, and then he dips back down the small arch and curve of your back to dig his thumbs into the meat of your lower back. 

It feels good.

And the way he rumbles softly to you, little words of praise or comfort—makes something tightly woven begin to slowly unravel inside of you. You sink into the bed, into his hands that press and massage. 

Your body flares into a dull throb. 

You try not to squirm.

There’s a deep, horrible pressure between your legs. It’s an ache. A bundle of muscles on the inside of you, squirming and cramping down around nothing—shifting the bones around of your pelvis around, turning your insides over—all in need of—

In need of—

Your head is foggy. 

You arch a little into his hands, into his touch, like a cat finally enjoying itself. 

“There,” Suguru murmurs and he’s leaning over you slightly, “feels better when you give in, doesn’t it?” 

His scent is strong. 

You go bleary with it all.

Another cramp twists up your insides. The aching inside you pulls taut.

You roll over onto your back beneath him, belly up and vulnerable. Suguru lifts himself away only momentarily to allow you to do it. And then you’re gazing up at him, reaching for him.

“Suguru—“ your voice pitches, cracks on a desperate, upwards note.

Your fingers tighten in the front of his clothing.

“—need you,” 

A hint of a smile. 

“But I’m right here.” He tells you, voice lilting with false naïveté.

Your blood sings.

“Don’t be cruel,” you beg again, “you know what I mean—“

“I’m afraid I don’t, darling.” 

Tears suddenly build again, the pressure of them sharp and cutting. More pressure in your poor body. More aching and pain. 

You twist a little beneath him, hips arching up on their own, searching—

“Suguru,” you whine, pulling at his clothes, pawing at him. And then a word that splinters out unintentionally, “please—“ 

“Please, what?” He asks, but his eyes are gleaming and sharp. 

You curse low and he laughs softly, even as your nails dig into his bicep, his shoulder. 

Still, you swallow down all your shyness and fear and embarrassment. You pull at him. 

“Please touch me?” You whisper. “It hurts so bad.” 

Another shift and squirm of your hips, your body. 

“Touch you?” He asks in return, but he’s so—so smug about it. “Is a massage not enough?”

Your anger spikes sharply and you suddenly tighten your hold on him, dig into skin, try to bleed and mark. You hitch your hips up against his and feel—

Feel how hard he is. You tighten your leg around his waist. 

“Stop tormenting me.”

Suguru goes perfectly still despite your moving and twisting, hips rocking up against his own. 

He detangles you, sitting up to look down on you, pulling his hips away from yours. You squabble to pull him back, digging nails into his muscled forearms. “Suguru—“ you whine, “isn’t this what you wanted?” 

He takes a slow breath in through his nose and you think he’s trying to steady himself. He huffs it out. His eyes are so dark—darker than you’ve ever seen before. 

“Of course it’s what I wanted,” he tells you and his voice is low, a soft rasp, as he carefully unlatches your hold on him. He presses your hands down into the bed, pins you easily. You melt into the hold blearily, squirming so that you might feel him where you need him—

“But it isn’t what you wanted.” He tells you, voice just a husk. His eyes are lidded as you find them, burning, “remember?” 

“Suguru—“

“I promised you.” He continues, “I wouldn’t do a thing, not until you were clear headed.” 

You rear back, “what?” 

“Are you really so surprised?” He asks, voice lilting and for a moment you grasp to understand him, wading in dark waters, lost. “I warned you, last night.”

 Through the fog of your mind, it slowly becomes clear.

He led you here to suffer, with no intention of helping you. 

You have walked directly into his trap.

I would never beg, you’d told him.

But he’d made you hear him, loud and clear, while you were in your right mind. 

If only to throw the words back in your face now.

Your gaze sharpens on him.

You squirm, fighting his hold until he releases your wrists.

“You’re cruel.” You hiss with as much venom you can muster. “You did this on purpose.” 

“Perhaps only slightly.” 

You lash out; you strike him. Solidly, your palm connects to his cheek. It cracks to the side, skin blossoming pink almost instantly.

Through the curtain of his hair, you see the sliver of a smug smile. The smarting of his cheek. 

“Such a brat,” he rasps and when he pins you this time, there is a strange, unnerving gleam in his eye.

“I should punish you worse for that, hm? You’ve always done better with a guiding hand.” He says.

“You’re punishment enough.” You growl in his face, twisting and turning, trying to dislodge the hold he has on you. The one he’s always had on you. You strain and struggle, wrestling with it, with him. 

“The only one who has punished you is yourself.” He replies, letting you fuss and fight, “if you had just given in to what you so clearly want—told me, admitted to it, I could’ve been sharing this with you.” 

Then he really exudes his strength, stopping your wrestling almost seamlessly. You cry out with the way he holds you. 

“You don’t know my punishments—you only know your own.” 

When your eyes meet his, there is a wild gleam to them, one that sparks and sweeps the heat inside of you into an inferno. 

“If I suffer this week, I’ll make you suffer, too.” You finally promise.

Suguru smiles, the curve of it sharp and dark like a sickle, a crescent moon. 

“You can certainly try.” He agrees and finally rolls off of you. 

Cold air sweeps in, leaving you bereft and aching, strangely startled and alone. 

He stands. “I’m going to cook for you and then I’ll feed you.” His eyes flicker over you, a mess in his sheets, “I expect the glass of water to be finished when I’ve returned.” 

You open your mouth to growl—

“You’ll need the strength,” he then says lightly, “if you’re to make me suffer at all this week.”

There’s a new note in his scent, you catch it now in his absence. It lingers in his place; spiced tobacco. It's warm and thick on the tongue, strange and heady, and—unfortunately, miserably alluring.

The door you have slammed so many times now, remains ajar, wide open, when he finally leaves the bedroom. There is nothing between you.

And you think something is now ajar inside of you, too, wide open, and ripe for the taking.

[danosrosegarden]

edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer e

on occasion - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons

elijah's anniversary celebration: post one!

✨ shimmer prompt: give me a character, and i will write a piece on how they would handle having a crush. ✨

{contains: edward being flustered and obsessive, general fluffy butterfly feelings!}

note: i am so sorry it took me so long to get to these. you can expect quite a few pieces to be published in the coming days! thank you for reading and supporting my work. xoxo, eli <3

♡ It would all be far simpler if Edward had the ability to admire in moderation. If only he could offer you the smallest speck of his heart, the littlest share of his love. That was just his problem. Edward Nashton did not love, but when he did, moderation was not possible. He loved all-encompassingly, with wide, sparkling eyes full of hope and a wildly skipping heart doused in desperate desire. There was nothing he could do to shake you from his thoughts. He simply wasn't able to rip you away from his brain.

♡ You didn't even do anything special; you just lived your life. But that was enough. Your pure, unfiltered existence was enough to have him entranced. Ever since you moved into his complex, he spent his days going crazy, waiting by his cellphone for a text or call. Hey, Ed, I'm off work! Wanna hang out? Hey, Edward, I'm going to the store! Want me to pick a treat up for you at the bakery section? God, you were so thoughtful. So caring. So funny and witty and so irresistibly you. Everything about you had him begging for scraps. Any piece of your backstory or future goals only fueled the crackling fire burning in his soul.

♡ Edward recognizes that the enormity of his longing could be perceived as overbearing or creepy. That's the last thing he would want, to scare you away. He can barely survive each day in his skin as is; he couldn't live with himself if he made you uncomfortable. So he does what he can to hold back. He declines your invitations to hang out sometimes so as to not seem clingy. He leaves you on delivered for a little while, even though he's practically glued to his phone, the intense, monstrous ghoul of FOMO looming over his shoulder.

♡ Even still, his crush is pretty pathetically obvious. He laughs hard and loud each time you tell a stupid joke. He blushes deeply when you compliment him, and his anxious finger-fiddling and lip biting isn't lost on you.

♡ Crystal clear, grade A anxiety. That's how he deals with a crush. He feels a rush of wildflowers bloom colorfully and brightly in his heart each time your name appears on his phone or he sees you in the complex's hallway. His stomach churns and his palms get clammy and goodness, he feels like an awkwardly love-drunk adolescent when he sees you: your glittering, smiling eyes, the way you walk and talk and smile at him...it all swirls around through his body like a whipping windstorm.

♡ He doesn't have the option of not overthinking every interaction, either. Did I say the right thing? Did I act the right way? Was I...cool? Jesus, he really did sound like a teenager, not a grown, mature man in his thirties with a real adult job and real adult responsibilities.

♡ The occasional high of courage shoots through him. He'll occasionally initiate a hang out session. He'll occasionally drop off a gift, maybe a baked pastry or a little trinket he found at the thrift that made him think of you. He'll occasionally write letters and practice speeches confessing his feelings towards you, and he'll occasionally rip the papers up and cringe into his pillow at the quivering in his voice.

♡ Maybe Edward doesn't know what to do with these monstrous feelings of adoration now, but it'll come to the tipping point where he can't bear the feeling of those blooming flowers in his heart anymore. They will outgrow their cage eventually, and he can only pray that you'll accept them and tend to them with him.

[autistichalsin]

So @dorky-malorky left a really good reply on this post I made earlier, and it was so good I had to reply- BUT my reply got way too long, so I'm making a new post. I'm going to quote their reply, and then add my own under.

So true, besties. As someone who was bullied pretty mercilessly all through grade school and right up until graduation, I see a lot of that same mask in Halsin. He puts up with so much and it's not because he's a sage wise old druid, it's because he has unresolved trauma!!! Man basically says Thaniel was his only friend growing up and that's why he became a druid. Imagine making a friend as a little kid and then finding out that no one else knows of him or can even see him. To all those people Thaniel may as well have been an imaginary playmate to a sad lonely boy. Then he grows up and loses pretty much everyone he cares about. He's cut off from Thaniel, he's cut off from his peers, and he puts so much of the blame on himself for that. Then he's thrust into a position of leadership where he, again, struggles to make connections. Sure some people at the grove are like 'sure wish Halsin was here' but then they all just go along with Khaga and the Rite of Thorns anyways instead of doing anything about it and they basically write him off as lost. In my view, Halsin has just been swallowing grief and disappointment his whole life and has been putting on the brave face because that's what people expect from him. Don't make waves, just keep on keeping on. Even with Tav and the tadpole crew he will keep swallowing that same shit beyond what a normal person would put up with because Halsin just wants to belong. He will take scraps if that's all he can get, and be thankful for it, when what he deserves is to be at the table with everyone else. And the heartbreaking thing is just how deeply he cares despite everything he's gone through. He could be bitter and angry like Astarion, but instead he suppresses and buries the hurt way down deep, and just keeps going, holding onto a hope that the future will be a better place. :(

And here is my response:

ALL OF THIS. There is a REASON so much of the fandom has independently come to the conclusion that Halsin is both autistic and a victim of bullying- realize it or not, the writers just put too many tell-tale behaviors in.

Your part about taking scraps just hits the nail on the head. He takes whatever the player gives, and he is still so damn nice- if he loses all of his approval towards the player (which is quite a feat since rescuing Thaniel and breaking the curse gets you 40-50 depending on choices made) he may be snippy in his greetings and in his point-n-click lines which are currently bugged, but he still never actually... really does anything about it.

And that he's able to still care after all of this- even setting aside headcanons, this is still a man who had few to no friends growing up, has been othered for his size and treated like his feelings don't matter, has lost everyone he loved, was made a sex slave for three years to one of the cruelest groups out there, with said slavery including seeing the bodies of other elves like him made into decorations, was forced to fight a huge battle and then faced a curse that killed so many friends of his that it would "take [him] a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends [he] lost" AND he had to kill the reanimated corpse of the previous Archdruid, a man he speaks admiringly of every time he mentions him, leaving him with survivor's guilt and pretty obvious PTSD, AND it took away his best/possibly only friend from childhood, he was forced into a leadership role he never wanted and in fact was actively miserable in, stressed to the point that he started thinking fondly of his past as a sex slave (with the implication being he romanticized it because he wanted not to have to be responsible for such hard decisions anymore) and with not a single soul to confide in who might tell him these thoughts weren't healthy, he spent years begging for help breaking the curse but even the Emerald Enclave was basically like "yeah you're on your own buddy", he fell into what was strongly implied to be alcoholism and had to swear it off entirely, his attempt to jump at the first chance he saw in 100 years to break the curse resulted in him being held captive again and tortured- by goblins, which got him mocked later- while his Grove was infiltrated, psyoped (seriously, too many people don't seem to know that Ketheric orchestrated the Shadow Druids infiltrating the Grove because he knew what a threat they/Halsin would be and wanted it neutralized) and turned against him by Kagha, requiring him to send in a new Archdruid while he left to try to solve the mindflayer crisis- and almost immediately discovering she was a better leader than he EVER was, which I'm sure left him with a feeling of not just inadequacy as he alluded to in his scenes, but also with a feeling he'd wasted all those 100 years trying to lead if he could have just handed it off to someone better all along, then after he finally breaks the curse that has been plaguing his homeland for 100 years he goes into the city, is promptly gut-punched with how much people, especially children, are suffering there, tries everything short of screaming to get people's attention that this is NOT OKAY and is promptly brushed off and dismissed at every turn, then finally goes to fight a Nether Brain to save the world, which he admits he had little faith he would survive- but he put on a brave face for the player (especially if romanced). And that's literally just the main canon path, not including things that can be done to him in darker branches, like his Grove being slaughtered and his attempt to avenge them all failing, or the Rite of Thorns succeeding and him losing his home forever, or him getting kidnapped by Orin, or, once that new update goes into place, him having casual sex with his friend/love interest (depending on the circumstances) and some prostitutes, opening up about his time as a sex slave, and then being promptly threatened to be sold back into slavery by the person he trusted. No, this stuff is literally just the main, good canon path.

I know people tend to say Halsin clearly worked through his traumas in a healthy way offscreen (this line gets used most with his time as a sex slave) but the lack of support system Halsin has, his inability to center his own needs, even to himself, for a single minute, his desperation to be validated for just a single moment, his idolization of the player if they break the curse even if they subsequently treat him badly, his emotions being so turbulent that he alludes to being unable to control his wildshape on two different occasions with both specifically being linked to turbulent emotions (one being intense arousal and excitement, the other being anger and fear when escaping the goblin camp at the player's side), all of which is incredibly unusual for any Druid let alone an Archdruid hailed as one of the most powerful around... none of this really?? points to that being true???

He doesn't act like he is a wise, zen old Druid, he acts like he's trying to be a wise, zen old Druid, and there is a huge difference.

[kkyaka]

Summary: Running into someone who was a key part in making high school hell for you wasn't what you expected when you settled into college Pairing: Ukai Keishin x black!fem!reader Warnings: friends to lovers (kinda), college!au, a handful of angst, reader kinda overworks herself, ukai is whipped for reader, one random bad encounter with an oc, reader was bullied in high school and is still holding onto that LMFAO, making out, grinding, tit sucking, little bit of marking, fingering, i think that's it, if there's anymore please tell me ya girl is tired Word Count: 21,351 (oops) A/N: Um, it's been a while LMFAO. I'm honestly not very proud of this fic, but I wanted to post it anyway as kinda of gateway to getting back into posting my fics cause I have four more (maybe five) that I wanna post. This was a part of my scrapped follower event (RIP). Reblogs are appreciated, and thank you for reading if you do read this trash!

The first week of classes always makes you anxious. This semester, you’ve got some classes in buildings you’ve never been in, and you didn’t get a chance to walk the campus to find them because you moved in so late. You don’t know why the apartment you moved into decided that moving in the weekend before school started was a great idea.

Luckily, you found your first class with ease, a simple elective that you need to graduate, and you hope that the coursework won’t be too hard. You got here early just in case you had trouble finding it, so you scroll on your phone to pass the time as the class fills in. None of your friends are in this class, so you’re not waiting on anybody.

By the size of the room, it doesn’t look like the class size will be that big, so you hope that the people that are taking it with you are bearable. No one is sitting at the desks around you, and that doesn’t bother you, but what does bother you is that someone sits right next to you when there were other seats open. 

You try to keep the sigh you make as silent as possible, not even giving the person a look as you keep your attention on your phone. You put it away when the professor walks in, pulling your laptop out of your backpack as she introduces herself. “Make sure you guys introduce yourselves to the people around you because you’re going to be working with them a lot this semester.”

You try to hide your annoyance, putting on a nice smile before you turn to the person that’s sitting next to you, but it drops the moment your eyes land on them. You feel something run through you that you can’t explain, grabbing the corner of your desk in a tight grip. 

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he laughs, but there’s not a single part of you that finds any of this funny.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you whisper, thankful that you’re in the back of the classroom so no one can eavesdrop. 

“Why so hostile? I thought we were friends.”

“We’re far from that Ukai, and you know it.” His name feels heavy, foreign on your tongue, something you hadn’t even thought about saying in months. 

Ukai Keishin. Someone that you’d never thought you’d see again. Someone who’s been haunting your past for way longer than you’d like. You thought that college would give you the chance to get away from him, and yeah sure, you picked a relatively small college, but out of all of the colleges, he picks this one? You can’t help but look over him, seeing how much he’s changed; how much he’s grown. He is not the same boy that you’ve known for so long, and you willfully ignore that part of you that wants to examine that even further.

“You’ve always been so mean to me,” he whines playfully, which makes you roll your eyes because that’s rich coming from him. 

“Answer my question,” you say, hoping that you get an answer from him, and then you just go back to ignoring him. 

“Same reason you are, no?”

“Why this one, specifically?” you press, looking around with your eyes for somewhere else you can sit the next time you have this class.

“You can ease up, alright? I’m being totally honest when I say I had no idea you would be here too.” It doesn’t sound like he’s lying, looking over his face before finding something else to do. You don’t bother to continue the conversation; thankfully, the professor gets the class's attention again. 

She asks if anyone wants to share something about the person that they introduce themselves to, and a few people raise their hands. You sigh slowly, resting your chin on your hand after you put your elbow on the desk. After a few people have shared, she goes over the syllabus, but you’re not paying attention.

Even though you’re not looking at him, the fact that you now know he’s sitting next to you, is the only thing you can focus on. You’ve never wished for a class to be over so fast in your life so that you can just get out of here without having to speak to him again. You sigh a bit, feeling like he’s watching you, but you refuse to look over at him to confirm that.

The longer your professor talks, the more uneasy you start to feel. You knew that the class wouldn’t last the whole time today since it was the first class, but you swear that time has slowed down. You see Ukai move a little bit closer to you in the corner of your eye, and you try to act like you didn’t see it.

“When’s your next class?” you hear him whisper, but you don’t answer, only responding with a quick side-eye. You turn your attention back to the front, and you sigh in annoyance, but that’s not enough to deter him because you feel a nudge at your desk. 

“Leave me alone,” you whisper, keeping your eyes forward.

“I will when you tell me.” You ball your hand into a fist, sighing again because you’re pretty sure he’s not going to mess with you anymore; figuring he just said that to get a rise out of you. You shake your head softly. It’s too fucking early for this. She’s starting to get toward the end of the syllabus, so you decide to order some food since you skipped breakfast this morning. You leave your phone on your desk while you put your laptop back into your bag, and when your eyes land on your desk, your phone is gone.

Your head immediately turns to the culprit, and he’s looking at the screen, but you can’t tell what he’s doing. “Are you a child?!” you grit, glancing at the front of the room before you try to reach for it. He’s quick to move away from you so that you can’t reach your phone, and right as your professor dismisses the class, he gives you your phone back.

You frown, thinking that he was going to put up more of a fight, and you notice how he steps closer to you when the other students are leaving the classroom, but there’s nowhere for you to move to. When the last student is out, you quickly make your way out, sliding past him when he puts distance between the two of you. 

You have a class in about another hour, so you order your food before you check to see if he did anything to your phone. Nothing looks different, and he cleared your apps, covering his tracks, so you’d have to do some digging to figure out what he did. You don’t bother to find it right now, trying not to concentrate on the fact that you will now be in the same room as Ukai.

You cross your fingers that he’ll drop the class, and you could also do that, but there’s no way you’d go through with it. You had left high school with high hopes that you would never see him again, but it’s just your shitty luck that you do. He made your life a living hell before college, and you were hoping that you could start fresh, leaving all of that behind.

But how long has he been here? You’ve been here a year already and you had no clue that he was here. And even if he was, your mom would’ve probably told you about it since she stays in touch with some of the other parents of your peers from high school. So, why were you unpleasantly surprised today?

You check to see how close your food is to being ready when you get a text. Your walking slows when you see Ukai’s name pop up, and seeing it allows you to figure out what he was doing with your phone. You swipe it away, shaking your head before you pick up the pace, but you falter when you see that he’s calling you.

You stop, stepping off to the side so that you’re not in the way of other people before you answer it. “God, what do you want?” you groan. 

“It’s only ten-thirty in the morning, and you’re already this grumpy?” he chuckles, and you ball your hand into a fist, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself.

“I’m blocking you,” you say.

“Aw, you don’t mean that, do you?” You can hear his voice more precisely this time, but it doesn’t sound like it’s coming through the phone. You turn around to see him walking up to you with a smirk on his face, phone by his ear.

You hang up the phone, sighing heavily. “What do you want?” you repeat, way past annoyed right now, and when you look back at him, you see something flash in his eyes, but it’s gone before you can figure out what it was.

“Just give me fifteen minutes, okay?” He’s lost that teasing tone in his voice, and you chew on your lip softly while you contemplate before you finally give in. 

“Fine. I’m heading to the student union to get some food,” you tell him, hoping that this will finally get him to leave you alone. You start walking, and he happily steps in rhythm right next to you. It’s pretty silent for the first couple of feet you walk, and you expected him to continue the conversation, but he stays silent.

You definitely don’t have anything you want to say to him; well, in public at least. Your mind is racing as you walk, and you’re starting to wish that he would talk to you so that you can shut your thoughts out. You can’t help but think about how he treated you when you were younger, and how most of the time he was the aid in your bullying. 

As far as you’re concerned, you didn’t think he liked you, or either he loved to make your life a living hell, and his actions justified that. But what he’s doing now is completely baffling to you. You can’t help but scoff, rubbing over your head as you smile. Who knew that your day could be turned upside down in a matter of minutes?

“What’s so funny?” he asks, making you realize that you accidentally reacted to your thoughts out loud.

“So, did you transfer, or…?” you say, not wanting to answer the question.

“Nah, I was here last school year,” he answers, shoving his hands in his pockets. You nod softly, looking at the ground. The school isn’t that small, so you may have just never run into him. But on the other hand, the school isn’t massive either, so you’re a bit surprised that you haven’t seen him.

“I’m assuming you’re majoring in something dealing with agriculture?” you ask next, meeting his gaze, and the smile he gives you makes you feel too many things, and you don’t like it.

“Horticulture, specifically, yeah,” he tells you with a nod, looking at the ground before he looks at you again. “Now, how’d you know that?”

You choke a bit, clearing your throat as you look off to the side. “I mean, who didn’t? Farming was all you talked about in high school,” you try. It’s a horrible attempt at taking the heat off the fact that you know what he’s interested in, and you know there’s no way that it worked.

“You were listening to me in high school?” he questions, and the teasing tone in his voice increases your urge to punch him in the stomach.

“It’s not like I had a choice, you and your friends talked so fucking loud all of the time.” That you say with confidence because there’s a ton of truth to that statement. He’s always been obnoxious, but with his friends, it seemed like it would always multiply. Not seeing him was the best part of your high school career. 

He laughs a bit in surprise before he nods. “Okay, I’ll give you that.” One of the bigger classes must’ve gotten out because there are a lot more people around as you walk, forcing Ukai to move closer to you. You try to shy away, but there’s no way you can move without falling off the sidewalk, so you just bite your tongue when you feel his shoulder brush against yours.

“Alright, so how’s your schedule looking this semester?”

“Hectic to say the least,” you chuckle, sighing a bit as you think about your future workload. “So, I hope this class will be the least of my worries.”

“Ah, you’ll be fine, just don’t stress too much about it.”

You scoff. “Yeah, that’s a lot easier said than done.” When you get to the student union, he holds the door open for you, and you thank him softly, picking up your pace a little, but he falls in time with your steps.

You quickly glance at your phone, seeing that your order is ready, and you’re grateful for an excuse to get away from him. “Uh, well, my food is ready, so I should probably go.” You try to turn around as fast as you can, but he must notice that you’re trying to leave because he starts talking right when you finish.

“Do you have any other classes today?” he says quickly, and you stop, trying to hide your heavy sigh.

“No,” you lie, but that isn’t enough to let him drop the conversation because he speaks up again, and you wonder why you haven’t just walked away yet. 

“You mind if I join you while you eat?” That sounds like a horrible idea, so you promptly come up with an excuse that thankfully doesn’t sound forced.

“Oh, well, I’m probably gonna go sit in the library,” you say. “Wanna make sure I’m not gonna fall behind since I already have homework.” You feel like you might be playing it up too much, especially when he squints after he hears your words.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounds like you’re trying to avoid me,” he infers, and you start to panic a little bit, trying to think about how to respond.

“I’m not. I promise.” You chuckle, waving your hand out right as you feel your phone vibrate with a text. “I’ve already made plans to meet up with my friend, so…” Perfect timing, you think in your head because if that text hadn’t come through, you don’t know what you would’ve said.

He smirks at you before he nods his head. “Okay, then. I’ll let you go.” You almost curl your body forward slightly in relief, but you hold that urge back. “It was good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” you say tersely, giving him a tight smile. You awkwardly wave before you finally turn around and walk away to get your food. You don’t walk fast, but you do try to get out of there as soon as you can because you can feel his eyes on you without even having to look. 

It makes you feel a certain type of way that you don’t even want to try and tackle, so you hightail it out of there. Once you get outside, you feel like you can breathe again, but now you don’t know where to go. It’s not like you could sit inside the student union after lying to Keishin, so you look at the time on your phone to try and figure out where would be the best place to go.

Based on the time, there’s a building you could sit in and not have to worry about a lot of people being there, so you head on over there. You slide your headphones onto your head from around your neck and let the music take over the thoughts that you don’t want to hear right now as you walk.

“It’s only the beginning of the week, and you already look like you want it to be over.” Your forehead is pillowed by your forearms on the table, and you lift your head to set your chin on your arms. 

“I had a terrible surprise this morning,” you answer solemnly. You didn’t lie to Ukai entirely. You were meeting up with your friend, but it was after your second class, and you weren’t meeting her in the library. So, it was just a tiny lie. Luckily, you didn’t run into him anymore today, but you hate how you were on high alert the whole day.

You’ve never been more aware of your surroundings, looking around when you leave the building, and making sure you’re continuously looking around as you walked to your car. You could say that you’re being dramatic, but another part of you just wants to consider it “keeping your peace” since seeing Ukai again brought back painful memories.

“What? You tripped in front of a lot of people or what?” You sit up, sighing as you lean back in your chair.

“I saw someone from high school that I thought I’d never see again.” Your friend flips through her textbook, already having homework, as she shrugs.

“So? What’s so bad about that?”

“He made my life a living hell.” Your friend perks up at that, lifting her head to give you her full attention.

“Oh, it’s a ‘he’? Is he cute?” You give her a plain look, which makes her chuckle a little. “Okay, so I need a backstory. We’ve been friends for like a year, and I don’t think I’ve heard about this guy.”

And there’s a reason for that. You would much rather leave painful memories behind, but your luck says otherwise. “Well, I would prefer to not talk about a guy that made my life harder than needed,” you start with a sigh, “but today, he acted like everything from high school never happened.”

“What does that mean?”

“He was nice to me.” You can’t help but scoff a little, laughing because it sounds like the bare minimum, but he was nowhere near acting like that back then. “I thought he hated me or something.” 

“Why do you think he hates you?”

“Because he messed with me non-stop! He and his friends humiliated me as much as they could.”

“Are you sure that it was him that was messing with you or was he just in the background?” That makes you freeze, and you slump a little at her question. If you think about it, he’s never physically done or said anything to you, but the fact that he was there, and didn’t do anything to stop it was enough to convince you that he didn’t like you. And it was enough for you to not like him. 

“What did he say to you today?” your friend asks after you’re silent for a while. 

“He put his number in my phone, and he walked with me to the student union. He said he thought we were friends.” You rub your hand over your face, resting your top half on the table again. There’s so much confusion on a Monday, and you’ve barely been to all of your classes. 

“It doesn’t sound like he hates you to me.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s making me sound like I’m fucking crazy,” you say lightly, looking at what’s playing on the TV behind your friend. “I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to butter me up or something to try and make himself look good. And then he’ll make my life miserable again once I let him back in.”

“You’ve always been so dramatic,” your friend laughs. “I’m telling you right now, that I don’t think that’s the case. He definitely would’ve acted differently, right? Did he ever talk to you in high school?”

“Barely. I caught him staring at me all the fucking time. He sometimes tried to talk to me after his friends did something to me, but I never let him speak.” Your friend is a hundred percent invested in this story, all of her attention on you instead of her textbooks.

“Okay, give me a couple of instances where you were messed with,” she tells you after she laughs at your answer. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to re-live through some of those moments. 

You tell her about the time they constantly tripped you while you were walking to your seat in a class you shared with him. You tell her about the time they started rumors about you multiple times. Now, that you’re older, they weren’t that bad, but just the thought of people that stuff about you made you hate half of high school. 

You told her about all the times you heard them whispering, knowing that they were talking about you and feeling tears welling up in your eyes at the snickers you would hear behind you. You stop soon after, biting your lip to calm yourself before your friend asks where was Ukai in all of this.

“He never said anything, and like I said, he was always staring at me whenever I looked at him.” You tell her about the times he would come up to you after class, usually after the bullying, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak, darting out of the room before he could even get your name out.

“Maybe he was trying to apologize,” she offers. “I’m not saying that I’m condoning him sitting there and letting it happen, but I don’t think he hates you like you say he does. At all.”

“Well, he had a lot of time to apologize, and he never did.” Yeah, you’re still hung up about it, and you don’t care if you sound like a child. He was a bystander and still dared to call them his friends and hang out with them after what they did to you.

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but if you wanna hear him out, I don’t blame you. But if you don’t, then you could always drop the class and find another one to fill your requirement,” she says. “But, I know you’re not gonna drop, so it’s up to you,” she tacks on, making you frown at her. She smiles at you before she goes back to your textbook, and you can’t help but copy it, standing up and making your way toward your room, but not without playfully shoving her first.

You spend the rest of your night torn between completely ignoring your friend or taking her advice. Not having homework is a good and bad thing because you don’t have anything to distract you from your thoughts. You kill the time by watching a show that you’ve already seen a bunch of times, scrolling through your phone while you sit on your bed. 

Your friend has a point, but there’s a part of you that’s spent a while trying to lock that part of your life away, and you don’t want to go through the trouble of opening it back up again. You don’t know if you’ll be able to handle it when everything you’ve suppressed comes flying out.

When your eyelids start to feel heavy, you decide to call it a night, hoping in the shower before you do your face routine. When you get in bed, you toss and turn for a little bit, hoping that your dilemma stays out of your dreams.

Wednesday rolls around faster than you’d like, and you find yourself in that class once again in the same seat you picked on the first day of classes. You keep your headphones on as you get comfortable, having about fifteen minutes before class starts. You can feel yourself getting antsier as the class time approaches, wondering if Ukai dropped the class. 

You shrug off your thoughts, questioning in your head why you’re so worried about him in the first place. It doesn’t do much though because you feel your heart start racing when you can see someone sitting next to you in your peripheral. You don’t look, keeping your eyes on your phone, but you decide to switch your attention to your laptop.

You think the professor talks starting, so you turn your headphones off, sliding them off your head. “Good morning.” You hear it almost as soon as you take the headphones off your ears, and it nearly scares you.

“Morning,” you reply softly, glancing to the side to confirm that Ukai is sitting next to you. 

“How was your day yesterday?” he asks, and you shake your head a little as you shrug.

“Uh, it was pretty okay, I guess. It’ll be more hectic next week once my labs start,” you tell him, and it feels weird to be making small talk with him. Your friend’s words echo in your head as you ask him about his day yesterday.

“Mine was pretty okay, too. You know the first week of classes is always dragging.” You give him a nod, deciding to fully turn your head to look at him, but when you see that he’s staring right at you, you quickly look back at your laptop. 

Your professor starts talking, so you attempt to pay attention even though you’re more nervous than you’d like to be. Right as she finishes the discussion about what you’re going to be doing today, someone walks into the class. 

No one notices because they’ve all started talking to themselves in the groups that they’re in, and since you’re sitting in the back right by the door, she catches your attention. You look over her, commenting in your head how pretty her outfit is, but then Ukai quickly averts your attention to him.

“You did the readings, right?” he asks, and you squint at him.

“Did you?” you say right back, and he smiles a little which makes you think about how you’re feeling about that. 

“I did,” he answers confidently before giving you a synopsis of the reading much to your surprise. “I can’t slack off like I did in high school, so I’m trying to start early so I don’t get behind.” His words leave you a little stunned, but before you can even try and form a response, the girl who walked in late walks up to the both of you.

“You don’t mind if I work with you, do you?” She’s only looking at Ukai when she asks, and she must’ve walked up to the professor and had her fill her in on what you’re doing.

“Well, I’m working with her already, so,” he answers, and you make a face when it looks like disdain appears across her face.

“Oh, well, the professor said I could join a group,” she responds, and you can feel the air taking an awkward turn, but you have no idea what to say. Ukai sighs a little, glancing at you before he looks at her.

“Sure, one more doesn’t hurt.” She smiles widely before moving one of the desks closer to him before sitting down, and he leans towards you, which makes you lean back a little. “Are you okay with this?” he whispers.

“Uh, yeah, it’s fine,” you mumble back quickly, overwhelmed by how close he is. It doesn’t look like your words convinced him, but she’s talking to him again, so he doesn’t get a chance to make sure. While he’s talking to her, filling her in on what you’re supposed to be doing, you pull up your annotations from the readings you had to read for this class.

For about ten minutes, absolutely no work gets done because every time Ukai tries to talk to you, she interrupts with questions that have nothing to do with the work. And she’s only talking to him. You have an annoyed look on your face as you stare at your empty word document. Ukai seems to be just annoyed as you, and you truly don’t know why she’s acting like this. You don’t even know her.

You figure that you’re probably not going to get any work done, and by the conversations you’re overhearing from the other groups, they’re not necessarily talking about their group work either. It seems like there’s a lull in the conversation between her and Ukai, so you speak up.

“I like your outfit,” you say, giving her a small smile.

“I didn’t ask.” 

Keishin freezes, his fingers no longer typing on his keyboard, and your face drops. She’s giving you an ugly look, and you’re about to turn and face her, but he stops you by asking you some questions about the work. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t decipher, but after that, he barely pays attention to her.

Every time she tries to talk, he talks over her, and it’s starting to get to you. “Ukai, it’s okay,” you say softly, and you don’t need to say it that loud because he’s practically in your space, moving over whenever she moved closer to him.

“No, it’s not,” he grits, and you never knew that fifty minutes could be so long. You managed to get some of your document filled, and you start to pack your stuff up once there are about five minutes left in class. You wish you could be out of here sooner. The girl continues to talk now that Ukai isn’t occupied anymore, and you can’t even bring yourself to look their way.

You feel a pit forming in your stomach at what she said to you, her attitude not sitting right with you, but you don’t want to say anything to her. The other part of you just wants to get out of her, and you refuse to let her ruin the rest of your day. Your professor lets the class out a little early once she sees that everyone is finishing up, and since your backpack is already packed, you quickly stand.

Ukai stands up almost at the same time you do, way faster. “So, I was wondering–” The girl is standing as well, and she’s still talking to him. 

“I didn’t ask.” You choke a bit at Ukai’s sudden response, turning your head to look away as you try to hold in your laugh, but not before you can catch her stunned reaction. You jump when he grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room ahead of everyone else. You have to walk a little faster to keep up with him, and he doesn’t let your hand go until you’re both well away from the building.

“Are you okay?” he asks, slowing his steps.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” you say. “I’m a little pissed, yeah, but I’m not stressed over it.” He doesn’t say anything in return, and the silence allows you to remember that he’s still holding your hand. 

You feel your face grow warm as you slightly tug, and he feels it, letting go of your hand immediately. “Sorry about that,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say lightly even though your body isn’t taking it so lightly. You grab your hand gently, rubbing over your palm as if you’re missing the feeling of his hand against yours. 

“So, it looks like you’re done for the day,” he says without missing a beat, and you frown a bit before you quickly remember that you lied to him about your schedule. 

“Oh, yeah,” you respond slowly, wondering if you want to come clean about it. “I would be, but I do have another class in an hour. My professor canceled the class on Monday for some reason.” You don’t know why you’re telling him this, and there’s a small part of you that regrets it the moment you do.

“Really? What class is it?”

“Uh, quantitative chemistry.”

“Oof, sounds hard,” he grimaces, and you chuckle a little, shaking your head a little.

“I don’t think it’ll be that bad, hopefully. Math wasn’t always my best, but it’s stuff I already learned so I should be fine.” You try not to focus on how close he is to you as you walk, and you know there’s no reason for him to be since the foot traffic isn’t bad. “Do you have anything else today?” you ask, trying to use conversation as a way to keep your thoughts quiet.

“Yeah, I have a stats class in an hour as well,” he sighs.

“God, I do not miss taking that. I’m glad I’m done with it.”

“Lucky you then,” he jests, nudging you with his shoulder. “I absolutely suck at math, so this won’t be fun.” You open your mouth getting ready to say that you remember that from high school, but you quickly shut it. You don’t need to expose yourself anymore.

“It might not be that bad, you’re given the formulas on the exams anyways.” 

“Well, if I ever have trouble, I know to call you.”

“Right,” you mumble. The conversation thankfully stops without being awkward, but you don’t want to listen to your head right now. There’s so much going on, your brain is trying to process too much, so you try to think about where you’re going to kill time until your next class.

“Are you gonna be getting food again today?” he asks after a while even though you’re not walking anywhere near the student union. Which makes you notice that he’s just been walking wherever you’re going.

You shake your head. “No, I ate a pretty big breakfast today, so I’m just gonna find somewhere to sit while I wait for my next class.” 

“You mind if I join you?” You hesitate for a split second before you answer.

“If you want to,” you say, leaving it at that as you try not to reveal how you’re feeling. But hell, you don’t even know how you’re feeling about this.

You find a place outside since it’s nice and not too hot to sit at, and it’s an equal distance for both of you from your next class. Since you already have assignments due for your classes, you try to get a headstart on it, so you pull out your notes and laptop to get started on that. 

Ukai sits across from you, and it takes everything in you to not look at him. He’s on his phone for a while that you can see from your peripheral, but then he’s on his laptop soon after that. You get into your work, finding a groove, and you’re almost done with most of it when you hear someone call Ukai’s name.

Both of you look up, and your heart drops when your eyes land on the owner of the voice. You quickly put your head down, hoping that your undivided attention on your laptop screen will cause him not to notice you. You swallow heavily as they greet each other, and you look at the time to see that you still have twenty minutes until your class starts.

You try to pack up some of your stuff since you’re done anyway, but then you feel your body run cold when Ukai says your name. “You remember her, right?” You hesitantly look up, and you can feel all of the emotions that you’ve been trying to suppress bubble over.

The guy says your name again in disbelief before recognition goes across his face. “Wow, it is you! I almost didn’t recognize you,” he laughs, and you wait for it. “You aren’t as ugly as you were in high school.” There it is.

You barely smile at him because there’s no way you can laugh that off, and you see Ukai frown deeply, turning to the guy, you start to close your laptop. “I’m gonna head out,” you start, and Ukai tries to stop you, but the guy won’t shut up about how much you’ve changed, calling you the names he called you back then, and you can feel yourself starting to break down.

“Don’t leave,” Ukai says, catching your hand before you can put your stuff in your bag. 

“Yeah, we have to stay and catch up,” the guy buds in, and you know there isn’t a smile on your face when you look at him.

“You can go,” Ukai orders, keeping his hand on yours, and this situation is so awkward and embarrassing, but your body is frozen at Keishin’s words. The guy tries to laugh Ukai’s sudden change in attitude off, not even the slightest put off by him. 

“Come on, man. This is hilarious, no? You remember how much she–”

“I remember how much I wanted to beat your ass,” Ukai states. “Now leave before I do.” You try to keep your breathing even as you look around. No one was around to hear the conversation, but some people are looking as they walk to wherever they are going. The guy stops smiling, looking at Ukai like he’s grown a second head.

“Are you serious right now?” the guy questions incredulously as he looks at you. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling this bitch–”

Ukai is on his feet in a split second, grabbing the guy by the collar of his shirt. “You have two seconds to move your ass before I do it for you. You apologize to her now, and I never want to see your face again.” 

Your body is shaking so badly, you feel like you could cry, and you flinch a little when Ukai tightens his grip on his shirt, shaking him just a little. “I’m not playing around here. Apologize. Now.”

“Ukai, it’s okay, he doesn’t have to–” you try, but he doesn’t even look at you, pulling the guy closer to him and nearly off of his feet.

“Yes. He. Does.” 

“Okay, okay. Just chill,” the guy pleads, and Keishin lets his grip loose just a little, but he doesn’t let him go. “I’m sorry, okay?” At this point, you don’t care for his half-assed apology, but the high school part of you is feeling a rush from hearing him say those words.

“Mean it,” he says angrily, and the guy turns to look at you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but that doesn’t satisfy Ukai.

“For?”

“For messing with you. I’m sorry for what I just said. I was just fucking around in high school, and I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I promise,” he rushes out, and you’d never thought you’d hear that from him. You’re so overwhelmed with emotions right now, that you don’t say anything, but Ukai lets the guy go with a rough shove.

“Get the fuck out of my face,” he hisses, and the guy fixes his shirt, giving Ukai a searing glare, but he walks off without another word. You take a deep breath when he disappears out of sight, and you jump a bit when Ukai’s next to you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m fine,” you breathe, finally looking at Ukai, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so worried. His hands are on your shoulders, and you give him a smile to try and lessen his worries. “I’m fine. I just thought I’d never see him again,” you say with an airy chuckle, and when you start to relax, he lets his hands slide off of you, but you’re still a little frazzled to notice how long they take to leave your body.

Ukai goes to say something, but you check the time on your phone to see that you don’t have a lot of time until your next class. “Oh, we have to go,” you say softly, packing up your stuff. Ukai stands there, watching you, and you turn to him once you have your backpack on your shoulders. “Thanks, Ukai,” you say softly.

“Of course,” he says just as softly, and you return the smile he gives you. “You go on ahead, I’ll see you on Friday.” You nod, walking off, and he watches you go. He sighs as he starts to pack his stuff up. There’s so much he wanted to say to you. 

Maybe next time.

You’re a month into the semester, and your work is already stockpiling. You try to get ahead of it, but it always ends up catching up to you. You’ve piled up on your classes this semester, and you’re starting to hate your past self for doing that. The class you have with Ukai is the only class where the workload isn’t the heaviest, but it still takes a hefty amount of time to do the work for it. 

The readings that you have to read before class have gotten longer, and you just barely have enough time to read them. You’re dragging ass when you get to class on Monday, feeling like you might fall asleep at your desk when you sit down. You’re surprised you managed to even remember bringing all of your stuff for class today, and Ukai sits next to you as you slowly take your stuff out of your bag.

“Rough night?” you barely hear him ask, and it takes you a while to blink, your eyelids feeling like they’re tied to weights.

“Something like that,” you whisper before you rub your eyes. “My workload is a bitch especially with midterms coming up, so I’m not getting a lot of sleep.” You yawn as you rest your chin on your hand. He doesn’t say anything else, and the professor starts talking, but he keeps his eyes on you while she does.

You rub your hand over your face, even drinking water to try and keep yourself awake. You feel like you might cry when she announces that you’re going to be presenting in front of the class about the readings you’re doing. Ukai watches you make a face at her words, and then he notices that you’re still working on things all the while. 

But when the class breaks off to do work, you immediately start talking about the readings that you had to do for the class. He wants to ask about how you’re doing, but he doesn’t think he’ll get the chance. His concern is only fueled when you keep having to stop to think about what you’re saying. He ends up doing most of the work, which he doesn’t mind, and it seems like class flies by in a blur. 

You and Ukai will have to present at least twice this semester, the first presentation being next week, which means you’ll have to get started on your papers now. When class is dismissed, he waits for you to pack up your stuff, and he can tell that you’re really tired especially since you’re not walking as fast as you usually do.

“So, are you going to be free any time to work on this?” he asks you once you’re both walking outside. 

“It’s gonna have to be at the end of the week. I’m gonna try and get as much work done as I can so I can focus on this. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I can make it work.”

“We can try and start on it now while we wait for our next class if you want to,” you offer, and you both find a spot inside this time since it looks like it might rain, which doesn’t help your grogginess. Ukai sits next to you, but you’re too tired to freak out about it. He starts talking about the readings that you have to do, and what you could potentially write about in your paper.

You don’t know if it’s because you’ve chosen a pretty quiet spot, or if it’s his voice, but something starts to put you to sleep. Ukai can see your head bobbing every time you doze off, but he doesn’t say anything, continuing to talk about the material, and while you start to doze off again, he lets his hand gently guide it to his shoulder.

You don’t protest, going without a fight, and he looks down at you, only stopping when he realizes he’s been staring at you too long. He continues working, making sure not to move his arm too much so that he doesn’t wake you, and he opens up another document, typing up stuff that you could add to your paper.

When it’s almost time for you to go, he hesitates to wake you up because you look like you need sleep, but he knows you’d kill him for not waking you up in time for class. He gently shakes you, and you wake up with a start, looking around. You calm down instantly when you look at Ukai, looking at his laptop screen before sighing.

“God, Ukai, I am so sorry,” you say, rubbing your head. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

“Don’t sweat it. I wrote down some ideas for you to start with,” he tells you. “I’ll send it to you later. You gotta get to class.” 

“Thank you so much. I owe you.” You don’t have to put your stuff up since you didn’t even get the chance to take anything out, and you stand up, stretching when you stand up fully. You check the time on your phone, putting a little pep in your step since you feel a bit energized as you start to walk away. You turn to wave to him as you leave, and the smile doesn’t leave his face even when you’re gone.

“Should’ve taken a picture,” he mumbles.

~

When you get home, you all but drag yourself to your room. You change your clothes before flopping down on your bed, and sleep is calling your name, but if you go to sleep now, you’ll mess up your schedule. You lift yourself when you hear a knock on your door while you let your roommate know that she can come in.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” she questions the moment she walks in. She sits down at your desk with a feigned stern look, already knowing the answer.

“I’ll try tonight. I just have a lot of work this week. And now I have to write a paper to present with Ukai next week,” you groan, and your roommate raises her eyebrows.

“Ukai? Haven’t heard his name since you mentioned him,” she says. “How’s all that going?”

“It’s going, I guess. I don’t know what you want me to say.” You think about how your head was on his shoulder earlier, and you feel your face start to warm, and your roommate notices the change.

“Yeah, okay. You’re not fooling me. What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing!” you exclaim. “I think,” you add softly, ultimately sighing in defeat, and your roommate moves to sit next to you on your bed, very invested. “I mean, we’ve been hanging on a lot during our breaks in-between classes. And I fell asleep on his shoulder today,” you say, grimacing at the thought.

“So, what? Do you like him or something?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I kinda had a crush on him in high school, but it was mostly bittersweet because he was always there whenever I was being messed with. Speaking of, I saw one of the guys a while ago.”

“What?” your roommate says, her mouth open. “What happened?”

“Ukai threatened him and had him apologize to me,” you laugh which you can do now that the situation is behind you.

“Shit, girl, you don’t think he’s into you too, right?”

“No,” you respond quickly with a shake of your head. “There’s no way he likes me now or back then. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Don’t say that,” she tries. “I feel like there might be something there.”

“Maybe,” you say reluctantly. “I just don’t wanna read anything wrong.”

“I don’t think you are. I feel like he might have a thing for you. He has had a thing for you.” You try not to fall too deep into her words, but with the way he’s been acting, it doesn’t sound totally out of the ordinary. “Just keep me updated, I’m invested in your love story now.”

“Don’t call it that!” You shove her playfully as both of you laugh, and she gets off your bed, heading to the door. 

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” she says before she closes the door. Once it gets quiet, you begrudgingly decide to start on your work, so you move to your desk, starting on your chemistry homework since that’s what’s taking you so much time.

You play some music to help you focus, and you try to get into study mode. Which takes you a lot longer than it should because your head is focused on a certain someone. You groan softly as you let your head fall on your desk. Maybe if you think about it now, it’ll help you focus.

You definitely had some feelings for Ukai back then. You thought he was really cute, he actually is still very much cute. He looks even better now than he did in high school. But you were never confident enough to even start a conversation with him all through high school. You shared the same classes, but you just kept it to yourself. Not even your high school friends knew how you felt about him.

But then those feelings started to fade a bit when the guys he hung out with started to bully you. You mostly felt anger at first, but then it turned to hurt and a little bit of betrayal because the guy you liked wasn’t doing anything to stop what was happening. And then you hated yourself for being a damsel in distress. Once the bullying seemed to die down by the time you were in your last year, you were “over” him.

You didn’t have nearly as many feelings for him, they were still there, but you sort of suppressed them. And then you attempted to get rid of them when you got to college because you were under the notion that you would never see him again. But of course, you had to run into him, and now those feelings are starting to bloom again.

You never once thought that he reciprocated his feelings, and you never talked to him because it seemed like the only time he was going to say something to you was after his friends did, and the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” you say to yourself, picking up your pencil and trying to get back to where you were. Right as you’re about to start another problem, your phone stops playing music and then your ringtone follows. You pick it up to see who’s calling, and you feel your heart start racing when you see that it’s Ukai.

You were thinking about him, and now he’s calling you. You don’t wait to answer it, putting it on speaker as you set the phone back down. “You cut off my music,” you say lightly, and you bite your lip a little when you hear his laugh come through the phone.

“Sorry. I just wanted to check on you. Making sure you’re giving yourself a break,” he says, and your roommate’s words start to play in your mind.

“I actually haven’t been working for that long,” you say, but then you look at the clock, seeing how much time has passed.

“Really? When did you start?” he questions, and when you go silent, he chuckles again. “Okay, so that means you need to take a break.”

“Okay, fine,” you relent. “Is that all you were calling about?”

“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.” You don’t know how to respond to that, his words making you silent again. “I was having trouble focusing so I thought you might be able to help me.”

“And how would I be able to do that?” you ask, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“Don’t know,” he answers, which makes you roll your eyes. “I guess I could try and listen to music like you.”

“You should, it helps.”

“I’d rather talk to you,” he replies almost too fast.

“But I don’t think it’s helping you,” you chuckle. “It just sounds like I’m distracting you.”

“I’m okay with that.” You put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. What is happening right now? 

“So, you called me just to distract you then?” you ask after your quick freak out.

“Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Work doesn’t seem so bad now that I’m talking to you.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “Well, obviously. A lot of people would rather be doing anything else other than work.”

He goes silent for a second, and you’re about to ask him if he’s still there, but he talks before you can. “Am I being too much of a distraction?”

You let a shy smile appear on your face as you shake your head even though he can’t see you. “No, you’re not. I like talking to you,” you say, feeling your face warm.

“Good. I like talking to you too,” he says, and you quietly laugh, but you stop the urge to kick your feet like you’re in high school. Time seems to fly by as you talk to Ukai, and you’re having such a good time that you don’t even notice that it has until your roommate knocks on your door.

“Hey, girl, I was checking on you. You haven’t come out of your room,” she says, peeking her head into your room.

“I’m taking breaks, don’t worry,” you tell her, hoping that she won’t see that you’re on the phone with Ukai. “I’ll probably finish up here soon.” That seems to be enough to convince her because she gives you a smile and a goodnight before she closes the door.

“Sorry, that was my roommate,” you tell him.

“Don’t worry about it. Glad to know you have someone that’s making sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, she’s like my mom,” you laugh.

“I didn’t mean to keep you on the phone this long, you probably got no work done,” he says.

“I actually did. So, talking to you helped after all.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes. “...I don’t wanna hang up,” he whispers after he goes silent, and in your head, you agree. 

“Well,” you start. “I could call you after I get out of the shower,” you offer, and your eyes dart around to the things on your desk as you wait for his answer.

“Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll be waiting.” 

“Okay, well, I’ll talk to you soon.” You hang up the phone, and you have to get it out, so you do a little happy dance before you calm yourself down. You jump violently when your door burst open.

“I knew you were talking to him!” your roommate yells. “You can’t fool me!”

“Thank you for giving me a heart attack,” you sigh, grabbing your phone and standing up.

“So, what’s going on now? A date?” she presses, and you scoff as you shake your head.

“Absolutely nothing of the sort. I’m getting in the shower,” you say, pushing her out of your room so you can get ready.

“Yeah, okay. You better keep me posted,” she tells you again, and you shake your head before closing the door. 

You shower quickly, washing your face, and brushing your teeth before you get in bed. You wait for a little just in case he might be showering too, and it takes you a while to even call him at that. Your finger hovers over the call button in your recents until you finally press it. It doesn’t even ring twice before he picks up.

“I missed you.”

“It hasn’t even been that long,” you say, a laugh leaving your chest against your will.

“Doesn’t matter,” he tells you softly as you start to get comfortable. “You laying down?”

“Yes, I am. I might fall asleep on you if I’m being honest,” you say, a yawn following right after.

“That’s okay. You need to get your sleep.” 

Ukai ends up doing most of the talking which is fine by him, and he can’t help but smile to himself when he hears your responses turning into soft hums. A part of him wishes he would’ve video called you so that he could see you, but he’ll take this for now. He stops talking once he can hear you softly snoring, but he doesn’t hang up. 

Sleep is right behind him, so he rolls over on his side, getting more comfortable. “Goodnight,” he tells you even though you can’t hear him, and it’s not long until he’s asleep himself.

You had gotten enough work done this week that you had enough time to work on your presentation with Ukai. You decided to meet up at his place this weekend, and you feel so conflicted with yourself as you stand in front of your mirror trying to figure out what to wear.

“Why am I being like this?” you mumble to yourself. You’ve been trying to tell yourself not to worry about it and just put on some clothes, but there’s a part of you that has too much of a say to let you do just that. You’ve put on and taken off so many clothes, the pile on your bed and floor only increasing. 

You don’t have time for this, having only about twenty minutes before you have to get there. Ukai lives pretty close to campus while you have to drive back and forth between your apartment and campus. That’s something you and your roommate hate, so you’re currently looking for a new place for next school year. 

You groan out loud as the voice in your head tells you that you don’t like the outfit you have on. You jump when you hear a knock on your door, and the familiar sight of your roommate peeking her head in fills your eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, but she’s always been good at reading you, and she frowns before pushing the door open further. Her eyebrows crease when she sees that your room looks like your closet exploded. 

“You’re worried about what you’re wearing? You going somewhere special or something?” she questions instantly, but even the question doesn’t give you enough time to come up with a lie, because she quickly puts two and two together. “Don’t tell me you’re going on a date.”

“It’s not a date,” you emphasize. “We’re just working on a presentation we have to do on Monday.”

“Well, where are you meeting him?” she asks, and you look away from her, hesitant to answer. “His place?” she says when you don’t respond, and your reaction to the next question is all she needs to know the answer. “This is news to me! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because I knew you were gonna make a big deal about it, and I didn’t wanna psych myself out.”

“Okay, okay. Relax, y/n,” she says, putting her hands on your shoulders. “There’s nothing to be worried about. I won’t make a big deal about it because it isn’t if you think about it. It’s just two people working on a project,” she offers, and that perspective does make you feel better. “It’s only a big deal if you make it, and it’s not like it’s gonna be awkward. You both have been in close proximity before,” she adds, and you admit in your head that she’s right.

“I guess you have a point,” you say, but you’re still looking around at all of the clothes you’ve put on. 

“But, I can help you with an outfit,” she smiles, and you roll your eyes. 

“You just said it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Okay, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t dress up a little. You’re going out, why wouldn’t you?” she says, and you chuckle a bit, starting to consider if her words are a contradiction to what she just said, but you let her do it anyway. 

While she’s going through your clothes, you quickly text Ukai to tell him that you’re running a little late, and you can’t help but smile when he responds almost instantly telling you it’s no big deal. Maybe you are overthinking this whole thing. 

“Okay, here ya go.” You look up to see her holding one of your worn t-shirts, and some shorts, but when you look at which ones she’s holding, you put your hands on your hips.

“I am not wearing those shorts,” you tell her, taking the shirt from her and slipping it on. 

“Why not? It’s hot outside, you don’t wanna be sweaty when you get there,” she tries, but you’re not buying it.

“I only wear those around the house,” you argue.

“And you will be around the house! His house,” she says, and you’re starting to realize that you don’t have time for this, but you know that you won’t be able to pick out anything else to wear.

“Fine. I’m only putting them on because I don’t have time,” you say, taking them from her, and she walks out to let you change into them. They’re not that short, but they’re short enough, and seeing that you only have about ten minutes to leave, you can’t waste time debating over what to wear.

You put your shoes on, making sure that you have everything before putting your backpack on. You walk out, tugging on the shorts when you feel like they’re starting to ride up, and you all but glare at your roommate as you walk towards the door. 

“Have fun!” she beams, and you squint your eyes at her.

“Mm-hmm,” you mumble. “I’ll be back later tonight.” You both say goodbye, and you close the door, locking it behind you, putting some pep in your step on your way to your car.

You know where his apartment is, so you make your way over there, and you try to repeat your roommate’s words in your head when you feel yourself starting to get nervous. You know there’s no reason for you to be nervous, but you can’t help it. You know that you’re feelings for him are starting to come back, and there’s a part of you that’s trying to fight it, but so far, suppressing things hasn’t been the easiest thing to do.

Your roommate swears that he’s into you, which doesn’t really help your case, but those words alone are enough to make you sweat. You don’t know how you would feel if he felt the same way. You’ve felt something for him for almost all of high school, and if you think about it, those feelings never really left when you got to college. 

You text him as soon as you park, and he meets you outside of his apartment. “Sorry, I’m running late,” you tell him when you get to him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and you follow him into the building and up the stairs to his apartment. You pick at your phone case as you will your heart to stop racing because you know it’s not from taking the stairs. 

You follow him inside, and you look around, taking in the room. He mentioned having a roommate, but he said he wouldn’t be here while you guys were working. You take your shoes off once you get in, and you see that he already has everything set up on the dining table. It almost has the same layout as your apartment except it’s much nicer. In the back of your head, you think to mention this place to your friend and see if she’d like it.

“Okay, so I’ve already finished my paper, but I wanted you to read over it just to make sure that ours don’t overlap,” he says when he sits down. 

You sit down in the chair next to him, taking your backpack off so that you can get your laptop out. “That sounds good, but I’ll admit I haven’t written most of it,” you admit shyly, and he waves you off.

“That’s okay. It shouldn’t take you that long anyway,” he reassures, and you pull up the half-written document. You read over his, and you’re relieved that he ended up talking about something completely different from yours. You tell him what you want to talk about for your presentation, and he helps you out by pulling up the reading and offering what parts of it you could pull from. 

Writing your paper takes about an hour, and then you both work on the PowerPoint slides you have to have with questions to ask the class about the readings. Your stomach grumbles suddenly once you’re finishing up, and that’s when you remember that you forgot to eat while you were panicking about what to wear.

“Sorry,” you laugh, and he laughs under his breath.

“I’m getting hungry too,” he says. “There are places around here that we could eat at if you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, I’m good with that.” You both put your shoes on, and you follow him out onto the street, and there’s a bunch of places that are within walking distance where you could eat. You don’t care where to eat, so you agree on the first place that he offers. You’ve never been there before, but Ukai reassures you that it’s good. You both talk about anything and everything as you walk to the place, and when you get inside, it’s super packed.

“I guess it is dinner time,” he says as he takes the place in. “We can just take it to-go if that’s okay with you?” he offers, and you nod, in no mood to oppose as you look at how many people are in here. Ukai orders first, and instead of paying, he turns to you. “What do you want?” he asks, and you tell him, but then he’s repeating your order to the person at the register, and you realize what he’s doing.

“Ukai, you don’t have to pay,” you try, but he just shrugs you off. You try to memorize the price as you both move to the side while you wait for your food. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Seriously, y/n. Don’t worry about it,” he tells you again, but you don’t look very convinced. “How about you pay me back by helping me with my stats homework?”

“That doesn’t sound like a fair trade.”

“It does to me. I didn’t do well on the first exam, and I need some serious help,” he explains, and you decide that he’s not going to let you pay him back, so you give up.

“Fine. I’ll help you out then.” The smile he gives you makes your heart flutter, and you don’t get much time to take in how you feel because your food is ready. 

You walk back to his apartment, and you silently thank your friend for picking out shorts because even though the sun is starting to go down, the air is still really warm. You aren’t walking that fast, so luckily you’re not a sweating mess when you get back to his apartment. 

You push your work aside so that you can eat at the table, and he puts on a show that he’s been watching for a while. You’ve never seen it, and when you tell him, he looks at you like you’ve offended him terribly. He starts the show over for you, and it seems like a pretty good show, and you make a note of the name so you can continue to watch it. 

You finish eating in the middle of the first season, and you both move to the couch so you can finish it. Ukai tells you that he’ll start on the work once it’s over, and you wonder if he actually means that. Your focus on the show starts to waver when you notice how close he’s sitting to you. He’s wearing shorts, so when his leg brushes against yours, it sends goosebumps across your skin. You try to pay attention because you don’t want to miss anything, but it’s even more difficult when he places his arm on the back of the couch behind you.

You don’t think it’s a cliche move because you look at him from the corner of your eye, and he’s completely engrossed in the show even though he’s seen it probably a million times. You realize how tense you are, and you try to relax, but that means you’d be relaxing into him, and you don’t want to make anything awkward. 

You decide to rub over your arms since it’ll keep you from touching him. “Are you cold?” he asks, and you turn your head to him quickly.

“No, no. I’m fine,” you say with a shake of your head, and you quickly turn back to the TV, but you can see him looking over you, so you put your hands on your lap. He finally follows your gaze, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

The last episode of the season plays, and Ukai groans loudly. “Guess I have to do my homework now,” he says to your surprise. You guess he was serious about actually doing his work. 

“Can I use your bathroom?” you ask, standing up and feeling relieved that you’re not sitting directly next to him anymore.

“Yeah, my room’s right there,” he says, pointing at the right door. He’s been fighting it since you got here, but he watches you walk away, and his eyes slide up your legs. He can see some of your ass peeking out from your shorts before you pull them down, and he sighs softly to himself as he diverts his eyes. 

He turns his head quickly before he stands and turns the TV off. He sits down at the table while he gets his stuff out, and he hears you come back into the room. You sit down next to him, and he shows you one of the problems that he’s struggling with. You move your seat closer to his so that you don’t have to lean over, and he immediately thinks about how good you smell.

He noticed when he was sitting next to you, and that’s when he also noticed that he had put his arm behind you. He didn’t move his arm because he didn’t want it to be awkward, but he had to strongly fight the urge to pull you into him. He felt his hair stand up on end whenever he accidentally brushed against you, and the entire time he thought about if he should say something to you.

“Keishin.” His eyes snap to yours, realizing that he was just staring at his notebook. “Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I just got lost in thought,” he says, giving a smile so that he doesn’t have to explain that he was daydreaming about you.

“Don’t worry about the exam. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” 

“Of course, I will. I have you to help me,” he says, thankful that you think he’s stressed about the exam. His smile widens when yours does, and he feels so much right now that he almost opens his mouth, but then you’re turning your attention back to the work. So, he clears his thoughts and decides to focus on his work too.

He’s relieved when he realizes that he’s not doing as bad as he thought, he was just having some trouble remembering when to do what. You have him go over it multiple times, and it helps, and when you think he’s ready, you have him try some practice problems.

He’s definitely nervous to try them out, but your reassurance is what gets him to try them. You busy yourself with some other classwork, and he’s grateful because he doesn’t know what he’d be able to do if you were watching him. He makes sure to check over his work, even putting his work through the calculator more than once to make sure that he’s getting the same answer as before.

He lets you know that he’s finished, and his professor added the answers to the questions, so you look over his work and the answers. He fiddles with his pencil in nervousness and anticipation as he watches you check. It feels like it takes forever and it almost kills him, but then you finally look up at him.

“You did really well! There’s a couple that you messed up on, but other than that, I’d say that you’d got this stuff down.” He takes a breath of relief, running his hand down his chest as he leans back in his seat.

“Thank God,” he breathes. 

“You just have to trust yourself. You know what you’re doing, just don’t get nervous,” you tell him. “I know when I do that, I end up freaking myself out so much that I start to forget things.”

“Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s definitely not something I understood at first, so I’m happy to help.” At your words, for some reason, he feels like you might be about to leave, and he selfishly doesn’t want that to happen.

“Do you mind checking over my work again? I wanna go through some more just in case,” he tries, and he tightens his grip on his pencil, hoping you say yes.

“Of course. While you’re working, I’m getting work done too, so it’s a win-win,” you answer, and he’s never felt more elated. He nods, getting to work on more problems, and you switch your attention back to the work you were doing. 

You get up to go to the bathroom again, and you stretch when you do, and Ukai’s eyes catch on your shorts again. He diverts his eyes as soon as you walk out of his line of sight, and he shakes his head. Focus. He sighs, getting back on track, and finishes the problem with ease. He gets to the next one though, and he’s stuck.

He tries to do it himself, but when he feels like he’s not doing something right, he stops so that he doesn’t get too far ahead of himself. Luckily, you come back when he stops, so he asks you right before you sit back down.

“I just wanna make sure I’m starting this right,” he says, and you put your hand on the back of his chair before you lean down to see what he’s doing. You lean down a little bit more to look at his work, and he holds the urge to flinch when your shirt brushes against his ear. He takes a deep breath in, your scent filling his nose, and he desperately wants to know what it is. 

He thinks it might be like shea butter or something but before he can get a chance to investigate further, you break him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, you’re fine. Looks good to me,” you say, and he makes the mistake of turning to look up at you.

He was going to say something, but the words die in his throat when he looks at your face. He gets lost in your eyes and the curve of your lips, and he can’t look away. He looks back at your eyes, and to his surprise, you’re looking at his lips too. He has half a mind to just say fuck it and lean in, but then he feels you rub at his back.

“Have more confidence in yourself, Keishin,” you say, smiling at him before you move to sit back down. He’s glad that there doesn’t seem to be any awkward air between the two of you, and he realizes that his heart is racing when he looks back at his work. It feels like the motion of your hand rubbing his back is burned into his skin, and he would give anything to feel it again.

Ukai yawns as he finishes the last of the problems, and he passes the notebook to you. He rubs over his eyes as you look over them, and it doesn’t take you long to look through them. “You did great. You got all of them right,” you say with a yawn.

“I guess we better call it a night,” he says around a laugh that you copy, but then he looks at the time. “Shit, I didn’t mean to keep you here so late.”

You blink sleepily as you yawn again, looking at the time. “Oh, God. I didn’t even know I was here for that long,” you hum.

He once again doesn’t want you to leave. “You can sleep here for the night if you want, I’ll sleep on the couch,” he offers, and at the same time, you look like you could fall asleep any minute now.

“I couldn’t take your bed,” you try, but you end up yawning again.

“Seriously. It’s the least I could for keeping you here so long.” He’s really tired himself. He woke early this morning to make sure that his apartment was spotless. He’s never done so much cleaning, but he won’t tell you that.

Surprisingly, you don’t put up much of a fight, but he can’t really blame you. “Alright,” you say. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?” 

“Yeah, of course. Just let me use the bathroom first,” he answers, and you give him a nod, turning to your work to finish it up. He mildly panics when he gets to his room because he didn’t think about changing his sheets. He quickly uses the bathroom, brushing his teeth after, and tries his hardest to change his sheets as fast as he can. 

He’s nearly sweating by the end of it, but he can proudly say that he set a record for himself. He kicks the dirty sheets into his closet before grabbing the toothbrush and setting it on the bathroom counter. If you noticed that he was gone for so long, you don’t question it, which he’s grateful for even though he prepared a lie just in case. 

“My room’s all yours,” he jokes, and you can’t help but laugh before you stand. You yawn again as you stretch, and Ukai finally fights the urge to look over your body again. 

“Are you sure it’s okay if I sleep in your room? I can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind.”

“Yes, it’s fine. You look more tired than me right now. I’ll be fine,” he says, and you give him a sleepy smile that only strengthens his words. 

“Well, thanks. Goodnight, Keishin.”

“Goodnight,” he echoes, and there’s a part of him that’s ecstatic that he gets to say it to you in person, and he ignores the pang in his chest that he can’t be laying next to you as he says it. You walk to his room, and he watches until you softly close the door. He already grabbed a pillow from his bed before he walked out, so he throws that onto the couch.

He has a blanket on the couch, so he lays down, throwing it over himself and he tries to get comfortable. This couch isn’t the most comfortable, and he’s fallen asleep on it before, but there was no way he was going to ask you if you wanted to share a bed with him. He finds himself thinking about what would’ve happened if you had said yes.

His thoughts start to derail right after that, and he groans before deciding to turn on the TV. It’s the only way he’ll be able to keep his thoughts at bay. He turns the volume down, and he puts on a show that he can fall asleep to. Of course, it only works for so long. He hasn’t heard you say his first name at all. Today was the first time, and he can’t help but smile widely at the thought. 

He always wanted to say something to you in high school, but you never gave him the time of day. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t blame you at all. His friends weren’t kind to you at all, and he doesn’t even think he would call them friends. His real friends were in different classes with him, and he really only hung with them after school or on the weekends.

There were times that he told them to stop messing with you, and they took it as him having a crush on you, which was very much true, but he didn’t want that getting out, so he kept his mouth shut. Seeing you again and spending so much time with you has made him realize how stupid he was. He was more worried about himself than you, someone that he really liked, and he hates himself every time he thinks about it.

He hopes one day he’ll get the courage to tell you everything. Right now, he’s more than content with having what he has with you, and he doesn’t want to say anything to ruin that. He definitely wants to come clean about high school, there’s no doubt about it. But there is doubt if you’ll even talk to him after he reveals everything.

He plays back your first interaction in his head every night before he goes to sleep. At first, it kept him up at night. You had every right to act as you did towards him, and he tried to play it cool while he was with you, but after you left, he felt like total shit. He put his number in your phone to see how you would react, and he was more than relieved when you kept talking to him.

As he starts to fall asleep, he thinks about what he’s going to say to you. He hopes that when he finally gets the confidence and the chance, he won’t mess it up. He tries to rehearse it in his head, but he falls asleep as soon as he starts.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, but as he starts to wake up, he hears a familiar voice. “Dude, why are you sleeping on the couch? Get in your bed.” He recognizes that it’s his roommate, but that’s about all he can register. He was a lot more tired than he thought. 

He groggily makes his way to his room, and even in the dark, he can easily locate his bed, like it’s calling to him. He sheds his shirt and nearly sighs in comfort at the relief he feels when his body hits the bedsheets. He notices that he can’t stretch out like he wants to, but he’s starting to fall asleep, so he doesn’t worry about it that much. His bed also isn’t cold like it should be, but he gladly accepts the warmth, wrapping his arm around the pillow, and it takes no time for him to fall back asleep.

Ukai notices that the sun is peeking through the blinds as he starts to wake up. He takes a deep breath in, and he swears his nostrils fill with your scent, but this time he’s getting something different. Mango, maybe? He leans further into it, taking another deep breath, and whatever the source may be is soft against his face. He could stay here forever.

He tightens his arm around his pillow, settling in again as the smell starts to put him back to sleep. But he frowns when he faintly notices that his pillow is moving. He slowly opens his eyes, and his heart drops when he realizes that it hasn’t been a pillow all along. His eyes widen when he sees you laying in his arm, and his heart begins to race. 

You’re looking right at him, but there’s nothing that can come out of his mouth. You’re just waking up too, and you blink a bit, but there’s no hint of surprise on your face. “Keishin?” you whisper, and he never thought his name could sound so good coming from you.

“Y-Yeah,” he mumbles, and he can feel his face warm at his stuttering, but he gives himself a break because he’s just waking up. You roll over so that your back is fully against the bed, and you rub over your eyes. 

“What time is it?”

“It’s only nine-thirty,” he says after he looks at his clock, and you groan softly.

“God, that is too early for a weekend.” He smiles at your sleepy state, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You raise your arm over your head to stretch, and he notices that your shirt rises, and he can’t help but let his eyes trail down your body. His breath catches in his throat when he sees how high your shorts have ridden up, and there’s only one thing on his mind.

His eyes cut towards you when you call his name again, and he’ll blame his tired brain later, but he leans down closer to you. “Am I dreaming?” he questions, and his hand is itching to touch you, so he carefully puts his hand on your face.

“I don’t think so,” you whisper, and he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. He glances down at your lips when you lick over them, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to stop himself now.

“Good.” When you don’t make any move to pull away, he takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours. He sighs at how soft your lips are, and he only gets more eager when you kiss him back. You said he wasn’t dreaming, but this sure feels like he is. He pulls away only for a second, missing the feeling of your lips almost the instant he does.

He goes in for another, and you let your arm loosely loop around his neck as you meet him halfway. He groans when you deepen the kiss as you roll over onto your side, and he grabs your leg, putting it over his body. He’s borderline frantic to feel every part of you, and he lets his hand run up your leg, his fingers just barely getting under your shorts.

You move in closer to him, so he allows himself to let his hands drift up further, and your shorts have moved up so high, that they barely get in the way of him feeling even more of your ass. You moan when he pulls back with your lip in between his teeth, and he’s never felt so hot. He stops for a second to look at you, and your heavy breathing is the only thing that can be heard in the room.

Your lips are swollen from his kisses, and your pupils are blown wide as you look up at him, and he thought there was no way you could get any prettier, but right now, you’re proving him wrong again. “Fuck,” he breathes before he leans back in, rolling the both of you over while keeping your leg in his hand.

Your hands rub all over his chest, and you run your hands up his back, and he shudders at the motions, goosebumps rising all over as blood rushes straight to his dick. Your arms find their place around his neck, and he abandons his hold on your leg in favor of letting his weight press into you.

He pulls away to quickly pull your shirt off, and you easily let your upper half lift off the bed so he can do so. His movements slow when his eyes land on your chest, your boobs are basically falling out of the bralette you’re wearing, and his brain short circuits. He can’t think about anything else, and he swallows heavily when you pull the straps down, fully exposing yourself to him.

He lets your shirt fall next to you, and like he’s in a trance, his hands reach up to squeeze at the underside of the fat, and he wants to pinch himself. There’s no way he’s really doing this with you, but he’ll worry about this being a dream later. He kisses you again, feeling like that’s the only way he can regulate his breathing right now as he continues to fondle your tits. 

He kisses down your neck, feeling like he might go crazy as he kisses over your chest before he slips one of your nipples in his mouth. He moans when you do, his name slipping from your lips as your hands slip into his hair. He ruts against you, and he’s definitely drooling as he sucks at your chest, but he doesn’t even care.

You pull him back to your face, and he kisses you sloppily, your legs wrapping around his torso when he grinds even harder against you. “K-Kei,” you keen, and he rests his forehead against yours, his pleasure becoming too much for him to continue to kiss you. You arch into him, and he swears when your chest pushes into his. He’s definitely close to cumming, feeling his pleasure start to mount in his spine, and he digs into his teeth into whatever part of your skin he can reach to try and hold himself back as he pulls at your shorts.

Right as he does though, his burst open, scaring the both of you. Ukai quickly falls on his side to hide you, and he looks over his shoulder to see his roommate standing in the doorway. “What?!” he barks, and the guy holds his hands up.

“Sorry, dude,” he laughs before quickly walking back out, slamming the door when he leaves. Ukai doesn’t even want to look at you, the air now becoming awkward in the silence. He slowly turns his head towards you, and when he makes eye contact, you can’t help but laugh. He internally sighs in relief as he laughs with you, and yours dies down when your phone starts ringing.

He hands it to you, and you give him a small smile as you answer it. He doesn’t listen to the conversation because he’s too busy looking at you. His eyes stay on your lips while you talk before they trail down to your chest, and he can see the marks he left on you which causes him to twitch in his shorts.

“Sorry, I totally forgot. I’m leaving right now.” That makes him look up at you, and you hang up the phone, taking a while to meet his eyes. “I forgot I had plans with my roommate today. That was her,” you tell him, and he pushes down the disappointment that he feels, and he thinks that he hears it in your voice; at least he hopes so.

“No, that’s okay. I should probably see what my friend wanted,” he responds, and you quietly grab your clothes and put them back on. He moves over so that you can get out of bed to get to the bathroom, and he releases a heavy breath through his mouth when the door closes.

He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to think about what in the fuck got into him, and he wills his hard-on to go away. He gets off his bed, sliding his shirt on right as you open the door, and he goes in after you. He doesn’t even try to look at himself in the mirror while he brushes his teeth, and when he walks back out, you’re standing by his bed, looking at your phone.

You look up at him when he walks into the room, and he pulls his shirt down to cover himself. “Sorry, I have to leave so suddenly,” you say, and he waves you off.

“It’s okay. We got a lot of work done yesterday, so it’s all good.” You give him a little nod, and he quickly decides to walk towards the door so things don’t get awkward. You follow him out of his room, and his roommate is sitting on the couch when you walk out. He looks over his shoulder just as your grabbing your backpack.

“Sorry for interrupting earlier,” he laughs. “I’m Takinoue.”

Ukai glares at him as you feel your face warm. “Nice to meet you. I’m y/n,” you say softly, and Ukai’s eyes widen when Takinoue’s does.

“Wait, you’re y/n? The girl that–”

“She really has to go, so end of the introduction,” Keishin rushes out, and he pushes you towards the door. While you’re slipping your shoes on, Ukai smacks his friend on the back of the head, but before he can turn around, he’s already slipping his shoes on and walking with you out the door. 

Neither of you speaks as he walks you to your car, and he doesn’t know what to say when you finally get there. “Uh, thanks again for the help last night. I really appreciate it,” he eventually says.

“You’re welcome. Just let me know if you need any more help,” you tell him, and that reassures him a bit that maybe you didn’t hate what you both did earlier. But now, he doesn’t whether to wave, hug you, or kiss you. He definitely wants to do the last one; his hands are itching to touch you again, but he doesn’t know if you’d be okay with that.

You break him out of his thoughts when you take a step closer to him and kiss his cheek. His world seems to stop when you do, and you pull away, having a hard time holding his gaze. “See you on Monday, Keishin.”

He’s too dazed to respond, barely remembering you getting in the car, and the next thing he knows, you’re driving away. He doesn’t jump out of it until your car is long out of his sight, and when he finally does, he smiles widely against his will. He softly touches his cheek, and he doesn’t lose the smile on his face as he walks back to his apartment.

But it drops the moment he opens the door and sees his friend’s smug smile. “You weren’t gonna tell me that you’re sleeping with the girl that you’ve been pining over since high school?” he questions, and you Ukai shakes his head as he rolls his eyes.

“We’re not sleeping together, okay? We were just working on a project last night.”

“For what class? Anatomy?” he jokes, and it actually makes him laugh.

“Ha! Good one,” he muses. “But we finished really late, so I let her take the bed. That’s why I was on the couch.” He rubs his hand down his face as he sighs, but it doesn’t take long for him to smile again.

“Well, it looks like you should’ve just taken the bed anyway. You look like a lovesick puppy.”

“Fuck you,” he retorts with no heat behind it, but it’s not like he can deny it. He’s still not sure if he’s dreaming or not, and in the back of his head, he’s waiting for himself to wake up. 

“So, what happens now? Are you actually gonna confess to her? You’ve only been waiting for this moment for like, five years.” He hates how he still can’t answer that question. With the way everything is going, he’s thinking that it’ll be better to not tell you the truth, but on the other hand, he wants to come clean to you and tell you everything. And Takinoue’s right, he’s been waiting for a miracle, and it’s finally here.

He thought he would jump at the opportunity, but with the first interaction he had with you, he held back. “I don’t know,” he eventually says.

“Don’t stress it too much, man. As far as I’m concerned, it looks like she feels the same way,” he says, with a hard clap on his back that makes him stumble forward a bit, and it definitely feels intentional. At least now he knows he’s not dreaming. “And that also explains why the apartment was spotless when I got home. Now where’d you put my shit?” he asks, and Ukai lets himself drop his dilemma for now.

~

When you get home, you close the door behind you and let your back fall against the door. Even if what happened with Ukai was long ago, your heart is still racing just thinking about it. You don’t know what came over either of you, but there’s not a single bone in your body that hated it. You rub your fingers over your lips as your mind starts to replay the events in your head.

You jump when your roommate opens her door, and you quickly stand up. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” you say. “It was really late, so I just slept over at his place since I was so tired.” You try to school your expression so that she doesn’t pick up on anything, and you hope the look on your face is convincing enough.

“So, did anything happen?”

“Ah, no. We just worked on our presentation, it was pretty uneventful,” you say, and to be honest, you’re a little bit embarrassed to admit to her what happened. Maybe it’s because you’re still reeling from it. “Just let me hope in the shower, and I’ll be ready to go.”

Surprisingly, she lets you walk past her without saying anything else, and when you get to your room after closing the door, the events of this morning start to hit you. You go from sitting in shock to flailing in one spot just to get it out of you. You take a deep breath, composing yourself before you get in the shower.

Your shower takes a little longer than you anticipated because your thoughts keep running from you in all the wrong ways. You throw some cold water on your face when you get out, telling yourself to get it together. You get dressed, and your friend is waiting at the dining table for you when you walk out.

She looks up from her from, and her words die in her throat when she looks at you. You frown when her smile disappears, and she points an accusing finger at you. “You bitch! You lied to me!” she yells, and you’re still very much confused until you look down at your chest where she’s pointing. Your eyes widen and you feel your face warm when you see hickeys all over your chest. 

You don’t know how you didn’t notice until now, but thanks to the low-cut shirt you’re wearing, you almost showed everyone what you were up to this morning. “Um…” you say weakly, covering your chest with your hands. “I’ll go change and we can get out of here,” you try, but you don’t even get to take a step back before she speaks.

“Absolutely not, missy. You sit your ass right here and tell me everything.” You sigh, knowing that she’s going to get it out of you sooner or later, and you sit down across from her. She looks so invested, resting her hands on her face as she leans forward. “So, did you guys sleep together?”

“No,” you start with a shake of your head before you shrug. “Well, kinda. It was really late, and I was tired, so he said I could sleep in his bed. When I woke up, he was there, and…stuff happened.”

“What happened?! Tell me everything!” she presses, and your face gets even hotter just thinking about it.

“We just made out,” you eventually say. “His roommate walked in, so it didn’t go much further than that.” Honestly, you don’t know what you would’ve done if his roommate hadn’t interrupted. You probably would’ve done anything with him at that moment.

“So, how was it?” she presses.

“It was really good,” you gush, a laugh rushing out of your chest. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” you add, feeling how hot your face is when you put your hands on it.

“I bet,” your roommate laughs. “I can see that you’re flustered from here.” You can’t help but laugh again, putting your hands over your face and sighing. “So, what’s your relationship now?”

“I don’t know. We really didn’t talk about it. Like I said, it was just a kinda spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“Well, I’m getting that it means you’re admitting your feelings for him,” she responds, and move your hands to look at her.

“I’m scared too,” you answer honestly. “I don’t wanna say that, and then he pulls a complete one-eighty on me.”

“That’s understandable, but truthfully, I don’t think he’s the same guy he was in high school. From what you’ve been telling me, it doesn’t sound like he’s going to do that to you.” You let her words bounce around in your head, both of you going silent as you think.

“Maybe,” you say after a while.

“Have some faith, girl. I bet he likes you a lot more than you like him.” Her words make you smile, and then she stands up. “Alright, we need to get a move-on if we want to make it to this thrifting event on time.”

“You were the one who wanted me to tell you about what happened,” you say after you scoff. 

“Well, it was only natural. You tell me it was uneventful, but you have hickeys on your chest? I’d be crazy not to ask,” she counters, and she has a point because you would do the same thing if the tables were turned.

You go back into your room to change your shirt, and then you’re walking out the door with your roommate, putting your situation with Ukai to the side for a while.

Monday rolls around faster than you’d like, and you spend all morning thinking about how the conversation with Ukai will go. You’re not dreading it, you’re just more worried about if your conversation will be awkward or not. You get to class pretty early since you woke up early, and you listen to your music as you wait for Ukai to get here.

You pull up the paper that you have to present while you wait, and you read over it just in case. There’s no point in making any changes since you had to submit it to your professor before class, but you still want to go over it anyway. You freeze for a split second when you see Ukai sit down next to you in your peripheral, and you slide your headphone off your head, but you don’t look his way.

“Morning,” you hear him say, and you turn to him, having a hard time keeping your smile small.

“M-Morning.” You pick at the corner of your laptop as you internally roll your eyes at how nervous you are.

“Listen,” he starts, leaning towards you and lowering his voice. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday–”

“No, it’s okay,” you say, cutting him off. “It was–I, um…I liked it,” you whisper, and there’s no way you can look him in the eyes after saying that. Both of you jump when the professor announces for you to start your presentation. 

Thankfully, it goes off without a hitch, the only thing is, you started to notice about halfway through your paper that someone’s glaring at you. You couldn’t figure out who it was while you were reading, but when you start to ask the class questions, you realize it was the girl that tried to talk to Ukai a while ago.

You try not to let it affect you, but you have no idea why she’s staring you down. You don’t know if Ukai notices her too, but before you know it, it’s all over. You sigh quietly in relief when the professor says that class is over, and you both pack up your stuff. You notice that Ukai is walking way closer to you when you walk out of class, and you feel sparks go up your arm every time his hand brushes against yours.

“I’d say we did pretty good,” he says while you both walk.

“Yeah. She seemed really happy with our questions. I have you to thank for that, though. You did most of the work,” you respond.

“I’d say it was pretty even,” he jokes, and you can’t help but laugh. “Our usual spot?” he asks, and you nod even though the both of you are already walking that way. 

The area you usually sit in is pretty empty when you get there, and you and Ukai both sit where you usually do. You sit next to him, but there’s no way you can get any work done. Even though it’s quiet, the air between you is stiflingly filled with attraction. 

Since you’re not going to get any work done, you carefully lay your head on his shoulder, and you bite your lip to hide your smile when he wraps his arm around you. “You gonna nap?” he asks, you nod as you press further into him.

“Yeah, I’m gonna try.” You turn your face to press it into his shoulder, and you close your eyes as you breathe him in. He smells so good, and it’s nearly too late when you start to realize that you’re getting warm all over. You will yourself to calm down, but there’s no way you’re going to be able to go to sleep, so you keep your eyes open, focusing on what work he’s doing every now and then.

When you feel yourself starting to go to sleep, it’s too late because you feel him shaking you gently to let you know that you have to get to class. He gets up after you do, and you wait for him to put his stuff in his backpack before you leave. When he stands, he’s nearly in your space, but you make no move to step back. You actually want to step closer to him, but you have to remind yourself that you’re not alone.

You look around, and you see that you are, but there’s no way you’d be bold enough to do anything in public anyway. You both look at each other for a second before you move to kiss him on the cheek again. It’s the only thing you bring yourself to do right now. “I’ll see you later,” you whisper when you step back, but you don’t even get a chance to turn around.

He grabs your wrist softly, pulling you into him with his hand on the back of your neck. His lips meet yours for a hungry kiss, and you can’t help but melt into him, and suddenly you’re forgetting about being in public. You’re dazed when you pull away, your breathing ragged as you let your fingers softly touch your lips.

You look around again, and when the coast is clear, you move towards him again, and he holds you closer to him as he deepens the kiss. Fuck, he’s such a good kisser. Every single one makes you feel like you’re floating, but he pulls away the moment you moan. “You should go,” he breathes, his hands resting on your hips. “Cause if you don’t, I won’t be able to let you go.”

You give him a shaky nod, and it seems like it takes forever for you to step back from him, and you nearly don’t, deciding that class isn’t so important anymore. But you really should go. His hands slip from your hips when you move, and it takes everything in you to walk away from him. You give him a small wave, hightailing out of there before you can change your mind.

Turns out, you should’ve just stayed with him because you reply the kiss over and over in your head the whole class period.

~

“Hey, are you doing anything Friday?” your friend asks, and you look up from your homework.

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Cause my team’s having a mixer, and I can bring a plus-one, and you need to get out. You’ve been studying all week,” she says, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know. I don’t really know any of your teammates,” you tell her, and she waves you off.

“Just bring your boyfriend. It’ll be fun.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you yell, but she’s already walking to her room. 

She has a point though. You’ve been nothing but working all week, and the only time you’ve seen Keishin is during class, which always leads to a heated kiss that has you wanting more. Even when you look back down at your work, you don’t want to think about it anymore, so you decide to take the offer.

You text Ukai about it, and he instantly agrees. You start to feel nervous just thinking about it, especially since you don’t attend things like this very often. You’ve been to a few due to your friend’s outgoing nature, but sometimes you just like to be at home watching your favorite show. But, maybe it won’t be so bad since Ukai will be with you.

When Friday rolls around, you’re waiting on your friend to finish getting ready, so you’re sitting on the couch. You offered to drive since you won’t be drinking that much anyway, and you stand when you hear her heels clicking on the floor behind you. “Why are you wearing that?” she asks, and you look down at your outfit.

“What’s wrong with it? I thought you’d like that I’m wearing a dress,” you muse, even though you’re going to be tugging on it all night. It hugs your body way more than you’d like, but you bought it on a whim and you’ve barely worn it. 

“I’m talking about the jacket.”

“What’s wrong with the jacket? It’s gonna get cold tonight,” you tell her, genuinely not understanding what she’s getting at.

She rolls her eyes before she plants her hands on her hips. “You can’t show up with a jacket. Now, he can’t give you one.” You instantly understand what she means, and you can’t help but scoff.

“Are you seriously telling me to ditch the jacket just so Ukai will give me his?”

“Uh, duh. Why else would I be telling you this?” You don’t have much of a choice because she pulls it off of you, throwing it on the couch. You don’t have time to protest because even in heels, she’s moving out of the door quickly. 

You must be here early because parking isn’t absolute shit yet, and you can feel your nerves start to hit you as you walk up to the house. When you get inside, you quickly realize that this is nowhere near a mixer; it’s a full blown party. Your friend guides you to the kitchen, handing you a drink once she gets there, and her friends find her almost instantly.

They talk to you for a while, and you check your phone to see that Ukai just texted you. Your friend waits for him to get there before she leaves with her friends, and you both find a corner to occupy as the music pounds in your head. “This isn’t really your thing, is it?” He has to lean down to ask you, and you shake your head as you move your hand side-to-side.

“Not really, but my friend thought I should get out since I’ve been studying all week.” 

“She sounds like a good friend,” he yells back, and that makes you laugh.

“When she wants to be, yeah.” The room’s starting to fill up, so you grab his hand to find somewhere else to go. You decide to just step outside since they’re playing music that you don’t really listen to. “Did you drive here?” you ask, finally relieved that you can hear yourself think.

“Yeah. I have a friend that’s on the team, so I’m the designated driver tonight.”

“So am I,” you say, taking a sip of the seltzer, and you offer it to him. He takes a swig before he puts the drink down on the half-brick wall that you’re sitting on.

“Are you not cold?” he asks, gesturing to your body, and you nod your head quickly.

“Oh, I definitely am. My friend told me to ditch the jacket though.” He gives you a questioning look, and you chuckle a bit before you explain. “She said if I ditch the jacket, you would give me yours,” you explain. “You don’t have to though,” you add, but he’s already sliding it off, and your eyes land on his arms which look like they might rip the sleeves of his shirt.

He puts it on you, and it’s so warm that you can’t help but curl into the warmth. You stick your arms in the sleeves, and he moves closer to you. You stand so that you can make your way in between his legs, and his hands land on your hips. 

“You look good tonight,” he comments, and you hum as you put your hands on his shoulders.

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Especially in my jacket,” he adds, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer to him.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you question, and he grabs both sides of his jacket in one hand to pull you down to him. 

“I’ll show you,” he whispers against your lips before he kisses you firmly, and you gladly let your weight fall on him. He easily catches you as you move your arms to hang over his shoulders. He keeps one of his arms wrapped around you while the other falls so that he can trail his hand up your leg. You know the goosebumps that rise on your skin aren’t from the cold because your body starting to heat up and he’s barely started kissing you.

His fingers start to reach under the hem of your dress, and it feels so teasing to you that it makes you leak onto your panties. You’re glad you’re in the backyard because you would be embarrassed otherwise at how easily he’s pulling all kinds of sounds from you. He sucks on your tongue, and you’re pretty sure you would let him do anything to you right now.

He groans when you pull at his hair, and his fingers dig into the fat of your ass as his fingers start to inch further up your dress. You jump away from him quickly when someone yells your name, and you look up to see a girl walking up to you. You recognize her as one of your friend’s teammates, and she carefully steps outside, but Ukai doesn’t let you go.

That’s also when you realize that people could see you from inside since the curtains to the backdoor are wide open, but you don’t have time to think about that because she starts talking to you. “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven. You have to play!”

“O-Oh, I don’t know about that–” She cuts you off with a rough yank of your hand that nearly tips you over, and you grab Ukai’s hand also since there’s no way you’re stopping her. She pulls you upstairs, and you all walk into a room that’s filled with people but not as many downstairs. There’s music playing in here, and when she closes the door, the music blasting downstairs is severely muffled.

She pulls you into the circle, and you quickly fix your dress when you sit down to make sure you don’t flash anybody. “God, it’s like she didn’t stop,” you breathe, turning to Ukai when he sits down next to you.

“Yeah, that’s for sure.”

“I’m sure we can just sneak out of here in like, five minutes,” you say, but it’s too late because someone stands up and starts talking. You look around the room, and you start to feel uneasy when you see the same guy that Ukai nearly beat up. He barely spares either of you a glance, and you definitely feel uneasy when you see the girl that shares the same class with the both of you.

She makes eye contact with you, and she gives you a smile that’s all too friendly. There’s no way you can leave now because there’s no point in explaining the rules since everyone knows how to play. You and Ukai are definitely the only sober ones in the room, and you feel anxious as the girl from your class picks you to spin the bottle first.

You do it just to do it so you can get out of here faster because you’d rather be anywhere with Ukai but here. You chew on your lip nervously as the conversation gets quiet while people wait to see who’s going in the closet with you. You nearly slump in relief when it lands on Ukai, and when you look at him, he has a look in his eyes that gets both of your heartbeats racing.

He gets up before you do, pulling you to the closet faster than you can even process what’s going on. When he closes the door, you try to find a light to turn on, but he’s pushing you against the nearest wall before you can. As he pushes you, you feel something cold run across your forehead, and you assume it’s the string to the light, so you try to pull it while he kisses you frantically. 

You manage to turn it on, but the moment it happens, you soon forget about it when his lips find your neck. He pulls the jacket off of you, letting it fall to the floor as his hands rub at your thighs. “Keishin,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down since you don’t know how soundproof the door is.

“I’m so glad it landed on me. I don’t know if I would be able to handle you coming in here with someone else,” he breathes against your skin, and you’re glad it landed on him too, but there’s no way you’re able to tell him that when he pushes your dress up so that it’s bunched at your waist. 

He hikes your leg up so that it’s on his waist, and his other hand runs under the side of your panties. You jump when he finally touches you down there, and you hide your face in his hair to try and muffle your moans. He uses his other hand to pull your dress further up your body so until your tits fall out. The straps of the dress were designed where wearing a bra would’ve looked weird, and you don’t regret not wearing one at all right now.

You can’t even begin to try and get a word in when he starts to suck at your tits at the same time he pulls your underwear to the side. You ball his shirt in your fist when he rubs at your clit, and you dig your teeth into the other side of his shirt. You’re glad he has you up against the wall because you definitely would’ve fallen otherwise. 

You wanna try and make him feel good too, but he’s got you trapped between him and the wall, and there’s no way you could, so you just let the pleasure overtake you. You feel tears start to form at the corner of your eyes when he slides his fingers into you, and you’re confident the groan he releases is loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

“Oh, God,” you whine. “Oh, God, Kei–” You stand on your toes to the best of your ability when he presses against your walls, and your fingers hurt from how hard you’re gripping his shirt. He finally abandons your chest in favor of watching your face as he fingers you, nudging your head up with his shoulder, and you bite into your lip as your pleasure builds.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so hot,” he moans as he looks at you, and he pulls your lip out from between your teeth.

“T-They’ll hear–me,” you try to whisper.

“I don’t care. Let ‘em hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.” You can’t fight the urge to bite your lip, and you let your head fall back against the wall. You’re definitely starting to get too loud, so he crashes your lips onto his. He swallows every sound you make, pressing up against you even more when he presses on that spot that has you keening into his mouth.

The knock on the door should startle you but it doesn’t. The only thing you care about now is how good you’re feeling. The second round of knocks are harder, and this time you hear a voice, but you don’t know what they’re saying. He kisses you soundly as he slides his fingers out of you, and you don’t hide your disappointment.

He slides his fingers into his mouth, his breathing just as ragged as yours when he pulls them out. “I’m nowhere near done with you,” he whispers, and he fixes your dress right as the door opens. He picks up his jacket off of the floor, and he grabs your hand, making a bee-line for the exit. 

He’s suddenly stopped by a familiar face with another familiar face on his arm. “I knew you could do it,” he says, and he hands Ukai some money. You both frown at him, and the girl laughs.

“You won the bet, Ukai,” she says, and you can feel your heart start to race in the wrong way as your hand starts to slip from his. “It only took what? Like two months?”

“You don’t remember the bet we made before school started?” the guy asks, and you start to feel sick, looking over your shoulder to see everyone looking at you. You feel like you might puke as you wretch your hand from him and run out of the room. You hear Ukai call after you but you don’t stop, running down the stairs and pushing past people, ignoring their comments.

You can’t help but let the tears fall when you get outside once the music starts to fade. Your ears are ringing so badly, and your feet are moving you to your car. You let out a sob as you run, and you don’t even hear your name being called behind you. A hand grabs your arm, and you try to shake it off, but it tightens its grip.

“Let me go!” you scream, turning around to see Ukai, and the only thing you see is the guy that let you get bullied in high school. “You’re a piece of shit!”

“Just listen to me,” he tries, but you continue to fight him. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I didn’t see him until that day!” he says, but you’re not listening.

You stop moving, and he doesn’t let you go. “You’re still that same guy. Nothing fucking changed and I fell for it!” You take the chance to slip out of his grip, and you succeed, making a run for your car. You unlock it, but right as you try to open it, his hand lands on yours. 

“Just listen to me, please.”

“No! I don’t want to talk to you.” He turns you around so fast that it almost scares you, and he pushes you against your car door.

“Are you really going to listen to some people that you barely know instead of me?” he questions. Your lip is still wobbling, and you can’t stop the tears that are running down your face.

“It’s not like I have anything else to go off of,” you bite back, and he presses you against the car a little harder when he thinks you might move.

“Yes, you do. And you know it,” he declares. “I have no idea what the fuck they were talking about. I didn’t even know he was going here until I saw him that day. And I haven’t talked to her since that day in class.” You start to calm down, but your heart is still racing a mile a minute. “I really like you, okay?” he starts. “I have since I laid my eyes on you in high school, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell them to stop messing with you. I was more worried about myself.”

His words hang in the air between the two of you, and when you start to relax, he lets you go. “Nothing that I have said or done with you has been a part of some bet. Everything I did was my choice.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you ask, and you hate how your voice trembles.

“You think I threaten to beat him up all for some bet? I’m better than that, and you know it.” He lets his hands fall into your hands, grabbing them soft but his grip is firm. “I would never do something like that to you. I’ve been thinking about telling you the truth ever since I saw you that day, but I thought if I did, you would hate me. I couldn’t live with that, so I stayed quiet.”

You don’t respond, sniffling heavily. “And now I’m realizing that that was the dumbest decision I could’ve ever made. Spending this time with you has been the best moment of my life,” he breathes. “Don’t tell me that you don’t feel the same.”

You can’t even tell yourself that you don’t feel the same. You know from the start that your feelings for him never left, and there was a part of you that just accepted it. But you were so scared to let your guard down, to be vulnerable with him like you are now. 

“I really like you. I mean that. And I’m sorry for letting you be hurt all this time.” You let go of his hand so that you can wipe your face.

“It’s not your fault,” you eventually say. “I do feel the same way, but I was scared. Back then and now, I blamed you for the bullying, but it was never your fault.”

“Yes, it was,” he presses, but you stop him.

“No. It wasn’t.” You sniffle again, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I was letting the past dictate my feelings. I shouldnt’ve let their words get to me. But I was scared that you would hurt me if I let you back in.”

“I won’t hurt you again. I promise. I’ll never make you feel like that again.” He lets his head fall on yours as he speaks. “I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you, but I won’t let it happen again.” You pull away, looking in his eyes, and you lean forward to kiss him softly. He lets his hands move to your neck, kissing you back just as softly. 

“I believe you,” you whisper when you pull away. “I’m sorry I didn’t before. I really like you, too.” He can’t help but smile, and he kisses you again just because he can.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask, frowning a bit.

“For letting me say what I’ve always wanted to say. I thought I lost my chance forever.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again.

“No,” you say. “Now you have me forever.”

[ddejavvu]

idk if you’re still doing fairy!reader stuff but if you are: fairy!reader bringing a raccoon into the trailer (a la Linda Belcher) and Eddie’s just like “ok I love you and he’s adorable but prince jeremy marshmallows should probably go back outside”

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

Eddie's not often speechless when he walks through the door of his trailer, he's usually the one inducing the shock in others. But today it's you that's disrupted the balance of the Munson household, by introducing its newest, furriest member.

He wishes you're sitting on his couch with a dog. He wishes you'd led a stray cat in from the rain. But the animal you're sitting with is grey and black, with stripes of white here and there along its dirty fur. It's chubby, it's tail is draped over the edge of the couch, and it's a fucking raccoon.

You grin up at Eddie, because of course you don't see anything wrong with it. Before he'd swooped you up and made you a bed out of his underwear drawer you'd probably ridden a nearby deer to some sort of fairy farmer's market to stock up on glitter for the week. There's no reason for you to think of raccoons as humans do, so you're a little but confused by Eddie's full stop in the doorway.

"Hi, Eddie," You gush, "This is Jeremy!"

"Jeremy," He muses, watching the raccoon chitter and crawl towards your lap to reach the bag of marshmallows you've raided from the pantry, "You- uh, he likes marshmallows?"

"That's his last name," You hand the raccoon his treat, looking up at Eddie like you're viewing him matter-of-factly over the thick lenses of glasses, "Jeremy Marshmallows."

"Jeremy Marshmallows," He repeats, a little more relaxed as he leans into the doorframe. The animal doesn't seem rabid, just hungry, and he's more interested in munching on the treat between his paws than lunging for Eddie's ankles.

"Well, Mr. Marshmallows," Eddie clears his throat after the racoon's finished his treat, "Uh, hate to be a bad host, but you've gotta head out."

"But he's my friend," You frown, your brows scrunched, "I thought he could live here with us."

"No honey," He tries not to sound patronizing, but it really is a basic concept you need to learn, "You can live here because you don't have fleas. And I can leave you alone without worrying you'll chew through the wall. Raccoons aren't the same."

"But he's my friend," You reiterate, like maybe Eddie just didn't hear you the first time, "And I want him to stay."

"He can stay in the neighborhood," He compromises, watching Jeremy pick another marshmallow from the bag, "But he can't come into the trailer anymore. We'll make him a home, 'kay? Wayne can bring home some scrap wood from work, and I'll make him a real nice little bed. But he has to stay outside."

"He might get cold," You worry, and Eddie holds out a hand, asking for one of the marshmallows. You hand it to him, but he doesn't eat it, as you expect, he holds it up for Jeremy to see.

"He won't get cold, we'll give him a blanket," Eddie promises, "Here, dude. Come on, I know you want this, I'm gonna toss it outside for you. Okay?"

As soon as the animal locks its eyes onto the treat, Eddie chucks it out the door. He hasn't calculated that Jeremy will have to scramble over his feet to exit the trailer, so he does a little jump-and-squeal combo that he's not exactly proud of, but when the raccoon is safely outside, he shuts the door.

"Okay," He huffs, heart rate safely lowered now, "Uh- he didn't shit in here, did he?"

"No," You scowl, "He's not a pig. I hope he's okay."

You flutter beside Eddie's head to peer out the door, and Jeremy has planted himself in the grass just outside the trailer door. He's nibbling on the marshmallow Eddie had thrown, but the man suspects he'll be bored of waiting for more within the hour. That or he'll gnaw through the floor and Wayne will get a surprise in the shower tomorrow.

"He'll be alright, sweetheart," Eddie angles his shoulder towards you, happy when you take the invitation to flutter onto it and sit against his neck, "He's lived out there his whole life; he'll survive. And when we make him his bed, we'll put lots of marshmallows in there for him, okay?"

"Okay," You sigh, leaning your head against his cheek. He nestles into you the best he can without toppling you over, and turns to look over the half-empty bag of marshmallows you'd been feasting on.

"Well, I think we're doing pizza tonight," Eddie muses, "Wayne took the last of the lasagna to work, and those were gonna be dinner."

[billys-pretty-babe]

Uh-Oh

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : A night alone leaves you and Billy doing some physical activities but can your bed withstand his stamina?

Warnings : Swearing, smut (giggly sex because that's what Billy deserves), uh bed breaking

Word count : ~ 2k

A/N : I have no explanation for this, I got bored. Hope you enjoy ;) requests are open :)

Your parents decided to leave you alone for the night, that was the biggest mistake they could have made. Being 18, you still had rules living in their house and you abided for the most part except when it came to your boyfriend, Billy.

You were inexperienced when the two of you got together but now, you could confidently say you know about three times as much as you did going into the relationship.

Here the two of you were, really testing the planks on your bed, hearing them creak, the legs of the bed moving, the springs whining in protest, begging you both to slow down.

"Billy," you whined as he spread your legs wider, going as deep as he could, making your back arch and he chuckled. "That feel good?" You nodded, "You know it does, you ass." He laughed and quickly pecked you on your lips, smiling against them. "You still okay?" You nodded, holding his face.

"Yeah, I'm good." He smiled and kissed you as he rolled his hips against yours and you did your best to keep kissing him but it was hard, you had to remember to breathe when he fucked you like this but now you also had to kiss him, you swore you were going to die but you weren't complaining.

He laughed against your swollen lips, "Struggling there?" He still managed to be a sarcastic ass while being in an extremely compromising position with you. "Shut up," you said, lips brushing against his. He began to go harder, your body moving up the body as you grasped onto his arms.

His curls were stringy and you were hoping his stamina would deplete soon, being an athlete and a workout junkie was a bonus for the two of you in moments like these. His pendant swung between the two of you and you snickered. "What's so funny," he asked, going slightly harder and you dug your nails into his arms. "Your pendant, it's kinda ironic in this situation." He laughed and put one hand on the top of your skull and you felt the thump of the headboard hitting his hand and he winced.

"Switch." You nodded and sat up, both of you sweaty and out of breath as he laid down, hands behind his head as he smirked. "Come on cowgirl," he said, slapping your ass with his ringed hand and you winced, "Ow." He chuckled and your eyes looked behind him at your wall.

"Uh oh," you said quietly and he turned, seeing the paint had scrapped off of the wall. "Damn, I'm good." You rolled your eyes, "You're mediocre at best." He grumbled, mocking you as he swung his head and you laughed at him. "You're gonna hit me with your big ass head again, you almost broke my nose last time you did that." Billy laughed, "My apologies for my big ass head." He got comfortable again.

He grabbed your pillows and put them behind his back as he sat up, spreading his thighs slightly. He put his hands out, helping you straddle him. His hands left yours, scaling up your thighs, up your back until they held the back of your neck gently and he knocked his forehead on yours gently, making sure he didn't hurt you in anyway.

"I love you." You smiled and leaned in slightly to peck his lips, "I love you too, B." He smiled and kissed you again, moaning as he felt you grind your hips on his. He pulled away and watched your face as he saw you slide down his cock, watching your lips part, your brow furrow slightly and your eyes going glassy.

This was one of his favorite looks on your, satisfied and high on pleasure, you looked absolutely ethereal. You touched down on his thighs and Billy moaned, hands quickly going to your hips, his thumbs rubbing little circles as he waited for you to adjust. He hissed as he felt you clench and you moaned feeling him twitch.

"Ready?" You nodded, moving slowly at first, still trying to adjust to this position. You held his shoulders before moving your hands to his upper back as you intertwined your fingers. "I need help." He softly laughed. "Okay, hold on." You nodded and moved in closer and moaned at the slight change of angle as you held onto him, his forehead on yours as he crossed his eyes and you both laughed.

You put your head on your arm as he began thrusting up into you, the mattress dipping with each movement as you both moaned, him moaning different profanities and you moaning his name. He quickened his pace, hands now on your ass, pulling you on his lap with each thrust.

The springs were crying, wanting the two of you to slow down or stop completely and you moved your fingers into his hair, pulling the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tilting back with the pull, baring his neck to you completely and you latched your lips onto his pulse, gently sucking and nipping and he squeezed your ass, moaning your name, making you clench around him.

"Faster." He chuckled, "Jesus, I'm not a machine." You pulled his hair again and he groaned in pleasure, "Fuck, feels so good." He moved faster, your skin echoing in the room, the sound of your wetness sticking to him slightly louder than your moans, groans and pants.

Two of the wood planks snapped where the two of you sat, making the mattress sag. "I told you I was good." You grumbled, "You broke my bed." He laughed, moving some of his hair. "Baby, it was bound to break. I don't exactly go slow with you."

He tried to keep moving and the bed creaked again. "How many orgasms did you get?" You laughed, "Three." He nodded, "Alright, your bed can't take anymore. We're gonna call it a night on this." You nodded and he helped you off of him as you winced slightly and he rubbed your back.

He took the condom off, tying it off as he plopped it into your trash can, finding tissues and throwing them on top just in case one of your parents found it. He helped you up, laughing as you stumbled slightly as he helped you to the bathroom, turning the shower on. He leaned down slightly and kissed you, "Go to the bathroom and I'll be back so we can shower." You nodded and he left the bathroom and you quickly did your business and looked at yourself in the mirror, noting the love bites on your chest and neck, some on your stomach, hips and thighs.

You smiled and shook your head as you washed your hands. Billy came back with towels and clothes as he helped you in the shower. He held you close to him as he bathed you as you basked in the intimacy of it all. "My poor bed." He laughed, "I'll fix it, just not tonight." You nodded and hummed as he gently rubbed the soap on your skin, easing your achy muscles and he put his head on your shoulder as he held your hand with his right hand.

"I love you," he said as he pressed a kiss under your ear and you smiled. "I love you too, baby." He smiled against your saltwater scented skin, using his soap on your body, knowing how much his scent comforted you at night.

He rinsed you off and you turned and washed his body as he washed his hair, trying to put it into a soapy mohawk and you laughed at the failed attempt as his hair fell onto his face. "Ew," he gagged, "it's in my mouth, it burns, my eyes." You laughed at him, your whole body shaking as you moved his hair and you wiped his eyes with a clean cloth.

He opened his eyes, his lashes were stuck together and his waterline slightly pink and his face screwed up. "This tastes so bad." He fought the urge to spit out the soapy taste, knowing you'd get onto him if the spit got onto your clean skin. He rinsed his hair and you shoved the conditioner into his hands and he groaned. "You always complain that it's dry." He put the conditioner in and reached up as he moved the shower head so the hot water was hitting him.

"Hey, I'm cold now." He laughed and you turned around so your head was on his chest, your back being hit by the water. He looked at your neck, tracing the patter of the bites. "Did a number on your skin." You nodded, "It's okay, I can cover them if they bruise." He nodded, holding you tightly as he leaned down and kissed one of the bites, feeling the indent of where his teeth had been, against his lips and he hummed.

"Let me rinse this out and then we'll go to sleep." You nodded, not even having the energy to protest, knowing you'd fall asleep within ten minutes with the way his warm body was pressed against yours in addition with the hot water. "Okay." He rinsed his hair, making sure there was no product life in it before the two of you got out and he helped you dry off, your eyes heavy with exhaustion.

You got dressed, slipping on underwear and a shirt as Billy dried himself and dried his hair as best as he could do before tying it up and slipping on boxers. "Come on, bedtime." You nodded and followed him, turning the lights off in the bathroom as you shut the door.

He laid on the broken side of the bed and you cuddled up to him. He rubbed your temple gently. "Do you need anything? Water, snacks, need to talk, anything?" You shook your head, your eyes shut, lashes softly fluttering on the side of his chest and he smiled, feeling the little tickles that reminded him of the little butterflies in his stomach.

"You sure?" You nodded, letting out a yawn. "Just need some sleep. I can eat in the morning." He nodded. "Are you okay? Anything hurt or sore?" You shook your head, your lips pulling up for a mere second before they fell again. "I'm okay. Are you?" He nodded as he tried to pull you closer, wishing he could attach you to him, needing you on him at all times.

"Love you," you said against his skin and he smiled, hand rubbing your temple again. "I love you too, get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow." You furrowed your brows, never opening your eyes, "I'm not fixing it," you slurred out, words barely making any sense. He laughed, "You're going to get more wood with me, I'll fix it, you're just gonna keep me company." You nodded and tired to move closer and huffed, your breath hitting his nipple and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Should just tie you or cuff you to me." You hummed, "You'd like that, you kinky fuck." He laughed, "Yeah, I would." You both laughed before you yawned again. "Okay, go to sleep. We'll get breakfast if you wake up early enough." You nodded, holding him tightly, He rubbed your back, lulling you to sleep as he followed you into his own deep sleep.

[liminsendhelp]

The extremity of cruelty

Hannibal is a very clever man. But still a man, much to his regret.

A tale of an orderly beating up a therapist.

First posted on 6 January 2023 with the caption: "The first completed work of mine. It has been lying untouched for a very long time. 2021.09.22"

Hannibal, no fool, was always ready to snap out of his seat, grow a new wall, and slip into the next socially acceptable role. Collected, liberated by years of revealing his essence, confident in the unforeseen, knowing everything ahead of time. But who is ready for that? Being reborn hurt like hell. And there was little to make out in the seething horde of traumatising feelings. Two seconds, moments. Two discernible counts of their's ascent, palpable in the blinding air, embedded in memory.

One. Horns sprawled and stabbed their bodies, smoldering in seconds, moments of one growing into the other, wings tearing their backs, forgotten, moulded to the falling contour. Dust, covering them in an tight cocoon, ingrained, dividing their sin equally on each shoulder.

Two. The cold water burning his breath, the pervasive stupor, the fear of losing the only creature dear to him. All preparedness, forethought, experience, could not keep the fleeting thoughts of Will's death from agony. Without time to catch his breath he dived, counting down the seconds to brain death without oxygen. Three minutes from hitting the water, five, ten. Someone was calling his name, and in the turbulent water, voices distorted multiple times. From the bottom, big bright eyes stared up at him, fragile hands reaching out, not to pick him up, but to push him out.

Hannibal sits on the shore and does not exist. A wreck instead of a man. The shore is empty.

There are no people on it and it is empty.

A scrap of mind torn from the body, that's what it has become. The water seems like ink, and Hannibal thinks that if it were bloody, the light of the moon would take away its colour.

His eyes are dry and his body is cold. There is no warmth in him, the life has held its breath, holding barely. He breathes deeply, allows himself to think. Hannibal has been called mad too many times in his life, but to see this new address is not allowed to anyone. There is only the outgrown hopes, the feelings, the quiet rustling of slick wings, black and tarred. Everything that hasn't left him, hasn't been confused. Even if Will is dead a shell, to carry a part of him to the grave would be an honour. Hannibal senses his capacity for emotion, for interpretation, for imagination. He sees so clearly, let him look nowhere. Hannibal rises only when he hears the crunch of twigs. A deep breath to get used to the fullness of the sensation of space, a long inhale with his nose to sniff. Someone is here, close by, in the blood. Not Will. Hannibal moves quickly, moving further into the woods. Picks up a weighty rock and silently approaches the source of the smell. The woman wheezes, crunching again, no longer from branches, but from her neck snapping. Two seconds, slowing Hannibal down. Two seconds of frame-by-frame footage. Chiyo is dead and he's next. Curls. Light curls sticking to his forehead, frowning eyebrows, gun. Will takes the Walther from Chiyo's weakened fingers, stands up, aims it at Hannibal's head precisely.

"I'm out of here." "Good." Sips Hannibal, releasing the stone to the ground. "You've clearly made your intention clear to me. "You must realise that this bond will eat me up if I stay. Even faster than you will. Will." So ungodly he smiles, curves his lips to the side, sounds even. Making jokes, killing moment by moment. His creation, alive and stabbing. "In three years, I was able to reconstruct a picture of what happened in Florence. I could feel your desire to kill her, the possessiveness hidden behind layers of anger and longing." "Your pain in my hands was art, again not my own." Hannibal nods understandingly. "And I chose to close that need." His voice is flat, but Will is clearly laughing. He lowers the gun. Hannibal hums, running his tongue over his split lip before he speaks: "By fulfilling my purpose." "No. By granting the impossible." They stare at each other, unable to revel in their last encounter. Hannibal walks towards him, and Will stays where he is. A hand rests on his cheek, and he is allowed to do so. Hannibal reaches for Will's free palm, brings it to his mouth. Kisses the inside. Covers his eyes, takes it in, realises he won't let go. The crunch of twigs behind him, the chill at the back of his neck. Hannibal opens his eyes, and sees remorse. Will gives Chiyo. And accepts it. Hannibal, not being a fool, was prepared for anything. But Will always knew how to surprise.

Shot.

…

Matthew runs. He hasn't stopped lately. He reaches out to Mr Graham, pacing the cell during their meetings, bemoaning the failure. The horror, the flaw, the shame. He's failed, lost, failed to be better, and won't be anything. He can't be useful, and it kills. He cannot be forgiven in any way. But Mr Graham forgives and walks away. And there's no colour left.

He doesn't count how much time has passed. It doesn't seem like much, but it's not just another agent who comes to his interrogation cell. The world comes back to life when Matthew notices him, focusing sharply on the man. Air enters with alternating success. Will sits, relaxedly flipping through the case files. Will, with a tragic crease on his forehead, clear eyes and magnificent coils of hair. "Breathe, Mr Brown," he laughs, lowering his head

Matthew explodes in his body, dying at the direct look, the slight smile at the corner of Will's lips. He runs to him. And Will responds in kind.

"I came to apologise, you know." Will declares in one of their meetings. Laughing off the previous conversation, Matthew looks up, slightly surprised at the change in mood. "The first time we met here," Will continues. "I thought I'd see anger. Hoped to feel resentment, for using you. Or at worst, I expected to see a fan." "But you saw me." "Yes. Saw you. I see you, Matthew." They stare at each other, studying each other over and over, grasping for what gives them the opportunity. "Do hawks work in pairs, Mr Graham?" overly pathetic Matthew gives out. "Oh, my God." Will snorts. "You're insufferable." They laugh together. They're side by side.

After Hannibal, before Hannibal, discussing the case, tactics for dealing with him. Jack is under no illusions about what's going on. He needs a working agent, and Matthew gives him that. The discussion is kept from Dr Chilton by the force of Jack's menacing stare. The interrogation room cameras are switched off, but Will still brings the jamming device in Hannibal's case files or in a cup of coffee.

The light in Will's eyes burns brighter at the mention of prisoner Brown. Matthew is uncompromisingly flirtatious, spewing only the truth and living only stories of childhood fears and desires.

"Oh, and, Mr Graham, that shirt suits you. And that smile too." Will habitually snorts and throws a mocking glance as he leaves the interview room. Matthew knows he'll be back soon.

They talk, talk, talk. Over and over they run off to each other.

And then he disappears.

What happened? Yes, of course.

Hannibal.

Fucker. Beast, monster. The mistake. Something Matthew will never forgive himself for.

The knife in his stomach, Abigail's death, reliving it. Matthew absorbs every rumour. He waits. And Hannibal finds himself in the same hospital as him. So close, so accessible.

Thoughts of vengeance are tied to his existence for an unbearably long time. Once he complains of head-splitting pain. Once he almost gets the key from the orderly, but he leans over to Matthew, whispers with a smile that Mr Graham has been brought back into the investigation. The key remains on his belt, plans disintegrate, weak under the weight of happiness.

Three years have passed quickly.

"Good afternoon, Mr Brown."

They are back in the interrogation room. Matthew's handcuffs are removed and he changes into an orderly's uniform. A siren announces an escape attempt, electricity fails throughout the floors. The staff tends to the fugitives' cells, the remaining employees keeping watch over Lecter. Red lights illuminate the corridors, flashing, and Matthew tries not to let the back of his saviour out of his sight. Will is here again. Smart, collected, waiting out the moment. Easily faking an escape, in disguise for the real thing, bribing the orderlies, cracking another pillar of opinion formed about himself. They run and run. To the first car in the car park, to the second at the petrol station, to the motorboat.

In the morning Will wakes to the smells of coffee and scrambled eggs from the kitchen, comes downstairs kissing his wife. In the morning Matthew wakes up free.

No contacts other than handovers in a set place, no names in short correspondence on stolen mobiles. They have a plan. Hinted at, pieced together into a perfect puzzle. Will falls off a cliff and Matthew runs again. Pulls him out, forces him to cough his lungs out of the rough water.

"Hannibal." Will whispers as they weave through the woods towards a new stage, a new escape and life. "Take care of him."

Matthew nods. Runs to the shore, leaning Will against a large tree. There's no one in the water, no one nearby either, and the possibility that nature has taken Hannibal cheerfully envelops Matthew.

Footprints. On the shore, tracks leading to the woods. Fuck. He dismounts, trotting quietly closer to the place where he left his only possession. The gun rests confidently in his hand.

Fear releases as he sees his Will, wounded but strong. Avenged, leading the idiot who thinks he's God by the nose again. Waiting for the signal. One undeath, and Hannibal lets his guard down. Will nods quietly, flashing his eyes in the careless moonbeam. Will gives him redemption.

The rustle of wings behind him, the crunch of a branch.

Shot.

[happyk44]

Thinking about half-suicidal Percy who is still guilt-ridden about Bianca but can't do anything about it because he promised he'd keep Nico from being the prophecy kid so he has to live and then the war ends and Annabeth is alive, and Grover is alive, and his mom is alive, and Nico, dark angsty Nico who helped them win, is alive and it's all great and magical and then.

Then the adrenaline fades. Holding hands with Annabeth isn't enough. Goofing off with Grover isn't enough. Going home to his mom isn't enough. Nico stands out like sore thumb among the other campers, constantly clinging the shadows and struggling to fit in and Percy hopes another Underworld kid will get claimed soon, he wants him to have a friend, someone he can relate to.

He did have someone, his mind whispers in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Bianca's. He did and you lost her. You let her die, remember?

He does remember. He remembers all the time. Every time he sees a little girl guiding someone smaller and younger across camp to various activities. Remembers when Annabeth struggles to read a book aloud to her half-siblings.

He remembers.

And it chokes him.

Why is he alive? It wasn't supposed to be him. Bianca was the oldest, or, at least, she was supposed to be. She should've been the hero. Not Percy.

Guilt pools in him as loss does. There are memorial shrines up all across camp for everyone to pay their respects to the deceased and he sees every name etched in pretty white marble and accounts it to his pool of failures.

He goes home and it doesn't fix him, but he smiles and pretends as his mom fusses over him and he prepares for the new school year and it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.

(Dozens of kids will never see their mortal friends again, will never see hard to read markers on a bright white board, or hear the sound of a bell. Why does he get to? Why does he get to? Why does he get to?)

His mom has Paul. It'll be fine. They're both young. She can start over. It'll be fine.

It'll be fine, it'll be fine, it'll be fine.

(His mom asks about the scars on his arm and he lies through his teeth about a monster fight, trying not to look to the dagger he's hidden behind books he's never read.)

"Percy?"

Everything shatters. He stumbles but doesn't quite fall. Darkness pulls him up and away from the ledge, gripping tight until he's planted firmly by Nico's side. And even then it doesn't let go.

Nico isn't looking at him. Is staring plainly at his chest, looking past him and seeing something deep inside. Is it what's wrong with him? He doesn't know what's happening with his brain. Why everything is hitting him now.

Why he can't breathe.

It's like he's a fish out of water, drowning on dry land.

He just wants to it be over. For the fisherman to take the knife and gut him open, feed him to their family and throw the scraps out to the cats.

Nico tilts his face up to look at him. The moonlight shines bright on him. His pale skin seems to glow. It reminds Percy of Bianca, her ghostly glowing form.

You failed him, his mind whispers. You promised and you failed him.

"What's going on?" Nico asks like it isn't obvious. Like they always have conversations standing on the edge of rooftop of Percy's apartment building in the middle of the night.

"Not much," Percy says. The darkness clinging to him tickles his cheek. "What about you?"

"Oh, you know, just stopping a friend from committing suicide."

The silence holds heavy and thick between them.

Percy is the first to break it. "Please don't tell my mom." It's a broken whisper of a sentence, and he hates himself for it. All that Nico has done and he's still asking for more. Still asking when he couldn't even hold a simple promise.

Nico's eyes glitter. "I won't," he says softly.

He taps Percy's chest and a cold freeze shoots over him. It dissipates slowly. The late August, early September heat washes back over him, melting the small remnants of cold out. The night sky twinkles.

"Come on." Nico reaches for Percy's hand and holds it tight. The shadows sink into the ground, melting out across all the shadows around them. One strand stays. It wraps tight around their entwined hands, sealing them together. Nico tugs Percy's hand. "If you try to jump again, you'll just be pulling me down with you."

Percy stares at him.

Then follows quietly back towards the door.

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Your sick little head, so brain damaged and lying in that hospital bed.

This art means a lot to me. It isn’t as rendered or polished as my other work, but I want it to look scrappy, messy, and still pretty. If you’d like to just read about the style and story of the art unrelated to myself, feel free to skip this section.

Last week I mentioned being in the hospital and the psych ward, and while I wont give extreme details, it was for an overdose. Recently after getting out I’ve been trying to act like nothing happened and it’s all going to go back to normal, but this is the 3rd time I’ve done it or been on the edge of it. Just last week I had to get rid of two of my cats just after I’d been discharged and that on top of the trauma of the whole situation I’ve just felt strangely empty. Overdoses don’t just come and go like that. The mental effects aside from whatever you took linger and hurt more than anything. “I’m doing better” really just means I’m not about to do it again, but those feelings are still stored somewhere deep inside me. For this specific piece I wanted to describe that feeling and wonder of “How would anyone feel if they found me? What will they do after?”

People don’t talk about Molly nearly as much as I think they should, but it’s understandable given that she has no set substance yet. For that reason I have made my own. The biggest thing I’ve mentioned before—in my Angel Dust headcanon post—is that I believe Molly is the one that found Anthony after he overdosed and called 911. The rest of his family was likely a bit worried, but I don’t think any of them cared as much as she did. Another headcanon of mine is that Anthony and Molly had matching rings with “AN” & “MO” engraved onto them. Molly sold her ring to pay for Anthonys funeral after his passing in the hospital and now wears Anthonys as replacement on her index finger which she eventually takes to heaven with her.

I don’t imagine she was able to visit him very often while he was in a coma but she still did when she could and would talk to him in hopes he could hear her a little bit before he left. It’d take a bit of a tangent but when sinners enter hell, in my mind entering hell takes as long as it did to die. So for Anthony it likely took him a week to a month to die during his coma from complications, and in turn, it took that same amount of time for him to full wake up in hell. Sinners to me are made and formed out of the ground in hell and wake up in a similar location to where they died. Angel Dust would’ve woken up alone in a hospital while his sister was now left alone and Anthony’s body likely already buried by then.

These are reasons why I included forget-me-nots and sweet peas as taped on decals. Their meanings being “Please don’t forget me” and “Goodbye, thank you for a wonderful time.” respectively. I also added the “M” wax seal over one of the sweet peas because I feel that it’s a sentiment that Molly held close to her heart and still does.

Molly’s body is torn from pink paper while Angel’s is blue paper. I intended for these to somewhat be seen as hands, like how the pink paper wraps over the forget-me-not when the blue paper lays beneath it to show Molly’s attempt to hold onto the memory of her brother while Angel is trying to remember his own life yet is unaware of what is happening to his sister now; unaware if she’s alive or not due to his poor keeping of time. Angel is also a scrap of paper glued above Molly’s hands to pretty genuinely symbolise they’re both in different dimensions now and can’t fully be apart of the same without the help of an external force. I also wanted to include more jumping spider elements so I’d like to think the string holding the tears is silk. Jumping spiders leave silk behind incase they fall so they can climb back up and when you put that in the form of a mentality I think Molly would fit into that very well.

I really hope we see more of Molly and I hope she had a good life and can see her brother again. Of course, she is a fictional character, but I can’t imagine the trauma she’s experienced in her life even without my personal headcanons. I love Molly a lot and just from how I personally interpret her she reminds me a lot of my mother.

Hopefully you can enjoy my ramblings and craze about these funny little spiders. 🩷

[outofangband]

Two small Maedhros scenes, during and after Angband

cw: food as control including force feeding, disordered relationship with food after captivity and trauma responses relating to that, general Angband warnings

This is related to this here about my working on revising my posts on complex trauma and food

I have been inspired to repost this with more edits and additions by @nelyoslegalteam

The guard kicks the thin crust away, just out of reach and takes a purposeful step back. Maitimo understands the unspoken challenge. If he is to have any hope of food, he must submit to the indignity of forcing his broken body forward along the rough stone beneath him, half crawling, half dragging. It is not an indignity he is unfamiliar with, nor is it the most egregious he has endured for the purposes of this little routine

What would you do for a scrap of bread? For an insect? For anything at all to end the gnawing, all consuming pain of hunger?

The higher ups and guards both found amusement in this game and it is one he has witnessed and endured here. Maitimo had found himself appalled at the answers he learned when the question was directed to him.

It was truly astounding what one might do to survive in a place where death was understood to be the greatest mercy. Where death was something he craved. There were times of course when he became numb to the pain of hunger, numb to everything around him. When he entered a stupor of sorts and had to be strapped down, his mouth forced open by that awful contraption. He was never safe in his resigned states, no more than he was while defiant. There were those who would feed on him as surely when he lay blank and unresisting as when he snarled and fought.

He moves painfully forward, one useless leg dragging behind him, the chain connected to his collar being pulled taut in the hands of the faceless servant who held it.

Laughter still stings him, reminds him painfully that he is not so far gone to become numb to this. He wonders how many thralls scrambling for scraps of tainted food with their lifeless eyes are truly impervious to the humiliation and how many are simply adept at pretending.

…

The bread is warm and he tastes the gentle sprinkling of herbs encrusted to the shell. It is perfectly made, freshly carved and in a fashion he had not remembered how much he had missed. His mouth is dry however and the bread turns to ashes upon his tongue. He can barely swallow. He does not know m why he is reacting such, his habit to avoid eating with others when possible was not unusually this profound.

Nolofinwë is watching him. Maedhros can feel himself bristle at his gaze. He is dressed in fine clothing, sitting at the smooth oaken table where the king met with his counselors, advisors, and noble allies, of which Maedhros, lord of Himring, now counted among. But in his mind is a frantic, scuttling terror that longs to jam the remainder of the crust into his mouth and flee to the shadowy corners. There is only one way he can show it.

His hand slams down upon the table. One of the remaining counselors look over at him, startled. It is far from the worst violence they have seen him enact but it is clearly jarring all the same. Some presume that he is simply responding in his forceful nature to the suggested attacks. One or two know better.

Maedhros puts the bread down as though everything is perfectly normal and he is not battling against an instinct that tells him, however incorrectly, that if he puts his food down now he will not eat again until he has proven amusing, useful, humbled enough.

“Your proposal would fail,” he tells his uncle curtly, not looking at the bread, “We would lose far more than we would slay and have weakened our defenses along the boundary.” He longs to add a note of cruelty, to see the affronted look that would cross the other’s face, so any pity might be replaced by the chill of an encroaching fight. He holds his tongue this time.

Nolofinwë looks as though he will comment on something that has nought to do with the harshly rejected plans. Maedhros gives him no chance to do so.