#so i actually can’t imagine meeting another person with tics as anything other than like

[yourlocalshittywriter]

Denki Kaminari With Tourette’s

Author’s Note: I would like to preface this by saying that I am in NO WAY glamorizing Tourette’s syndrome or tic disorders as a whole! I simply headcanon him as a character with Tourette’s syndrome considering how I can imagine his quirk interfering with his brain in a way that would make this plausible. If you have a tic disorder and you found anything I wrote offensive or harmful, please tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it! Now, onto the headcanon!

- So, I can see Denki as having quite a few different vocal and physical tics.

- Snapping his fingers, his head twitching, and his leg kicking out are just a few that I can imagine

- I actually don’t see him as having coprolalia (the type of tic that makes you repeat swear words or rude gestures).

- I do, however see him having echolalia (copying words or phrases you heard) and echopraxia (copying actions or gestures you saw).

- So, imagine him meeting Bakugo for the first time and the two just squawking “DIE!” and “DAMN EXTRAS!” at each other for a solid ten minutes.

- I don’t think that Aizawa reads the student files, and as a result, doesn’t know that Denki has Tourette’s and just thinks that he’s weird and annoying.

- So, one day, Aizawa tells Denki to stop repeating things that he says and Denki replies with, “Well, now that you said that, I’m probably going to wind up doing it more.”

- And Aizawa thinks that he’s mocking him, so he’s just sort of like, “Kaminari, I know that you are not talking back to me. Should I be wrong, I’d have no problem expelling you,” because you and I both know that Aizawa takes no shit from anybody.

- Denki just responds with, “You can’t expel me for having Tourette’s!”

- Aizawa literally bluescreened.

- “I’m sorry, you have what?”

- So, Aizawa apologizes but feels so fucking bad.

- He winds up going home and reading every student’s file to make sure that he doesn’t make the same mistake twice.

- Whenever Denki experiences a mild inconvenience, he yells “THIS IS ABLEIST!” and it could be something like, him being last in line for lunch or tripping or some shit like that.

- Like I said, I can see Denki having echolalia, so sometimes poor Class 1A has to deal with Midoriya mumbling and Denki repeating everything he says without either of them realizing.

- One day, Denki made the exact same face as Aizawa without realizing and he had no clue why everyone in Class 1A was just collectively losing their shit. 

- Whenever Aizawa says somethings about being disappointed or upset with the class, Denki always pipes up and says, “Is it because I have Tourette’s?”

- “No Kaminari, it is not because you have Tourette’s. It is because Sero taped Mineta to his wall and invited students to play ‘Pin the Tail on the Pervert’ for five dollars per person.”

- Sadly, some kids from another class were bullying Denki for his tics saying that he would never be a good hero if he couldn’t even control his body.

- So, he spent an entire week suppressing his tics as much as possible to the point where he didn’t think of anything besides suppression.

- Aizawa was going to confront him after class because he saw how uncomfortable Denki had been for the past few days, but before he had the opportunity to, he caught Denki in his dorm room sobbing his eyes out while having a tic attack.

- Aizawa got Denki to stop crying after a while, and eventually Denki fessed up at told Aizawa everything. About how he was afraid he wouldn’t be a good hero with Tourette’s and how much he hated his tics.

- If his Dadzawa instincts weren’t already kicking in, then they most definitely were now.

- Aizawa felt his heart break for the poor kid, and he almost started tearing up himself.

- Aizawa calmed Denki down and reassured him that he was bound to do great things until he eventually fell asleep.

- After that, he paid a little visit to Principal Nezu about some ableist assholes who weren’t being very plus ultra to one of his students. They were quickly expelled.

- The rest of Class 1A found out about the incident pretty quickly, and they all felt horrible for Denki. Even Bakugo felt bad despite not showing it.

- So, they all rallied together to each write Denki a note about how much they loved him and how cool he was. Bakugo thought that it was corny as all hell, but he came around eventually after saying that he would be able to write a better note than Damn Deku, IcyHot, and Shitty Hair.

- Denki most definitely cried when he woke up to see a pile of notes that had been slipped underneath his door.

- And he most definitely keeps them in a box under his bed to look at whenever he feels sad.

- He’s grown to love his Tourette’s and all the things that they bring with them. He realized that he is a HERO with Tourette’s, not a hero with TOURETTE’S.

[siriuslyobsessedwith]

Pregnant!Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy

Hermione finds out that she is pregnant exactly 19 months after she started dating Draco. To the day: December 23rd.

On that fateful day 19 months before, all the longing looks and flirtatious banter had come to a head, and the night after one of their heated rendezvous, Draco strode obnoxiously into her office, slammed the door and asked a question.

“Granger, are you playing me for a fool?”

He had tossed himself elegantly onto a small leather duvet in the corner of her office, and his brow was quirked imperiously as his silver eyes bore into her.

She was busy, of course. She was on a fast track to become minister, and as head of the DMLE’s legal division, she was responsible for preparing legal defense and prosecution for aurors. And she was in the middle of a highly contentious case at the moment involving an at-large Death Eater and stolen dragon’s eggs.

Knowing full well it would annoy him, she responded without even looking up for the document she was editing: “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Malfoy. Care to elaborate?” She struggled to hide the grin that wanted to grace her lips.

Of course he played along. “Well, Granger, I’m speaking with regards to the meeting we had last night. I personally believed I performed admirably, as did you, and I feel we...work quite well together, no? Exceptionally well. And...”

His hand scratched the back of his neck. Hermione knew the tic well enough, and suddenly her interest was piqued. What did he have to be nervous about? They were quite...comfortable around each other, to say the least.

“I’m just going to say it: I-I’d like to take you on a real date, Granger. You know, you dress up and I tell you you’re gorgeous and woo you over Italian wine. I’m sure Weasley used other less sophisticated methods but—“

“I’m free tonight,” she interrupted, eyes sparkling with happiness. She kept her lips pursed to hide her childish excitement. Finally!, “Pick me up at eight?”

His lips open slightly in astonishment (shock?), he simply nodded and skirted out of her office. That was a wonderful night, leading into the wonderful weeks and months to come.

But now, 19 months later, Hermione is sitting in her office absolutely terrified. She’s cast the pregnancy charm over and over and over, and each time it’s come back positive. She needs to schedule an appointment with a Healer, find out how many weeks pregnant she is, she needs to start thinking about maternity leave, she needs to worry about the extra expense of a child.

And, of course, she needs to figure out how to tell Draco. But she doesn’t want to think about that. She cant think about that right now. The what-ifs racing through her mind are just too much for her to handle at the moment.

Now, because she’s Hermione Granger, she’s able to get into a Healer the same day. She swears the man to confidentiality, because the only thing worse than telling Draco is him finding out from someone else. She finds out she is 6 weeks pregnant (which explains the last 4 weeks of feeling like she had a terrible flu—how had she been so blind?), and then the Healer tells her, gently, cautiously, “It’s twins, Ms. Granger.”

Her heart stops; her mind swirls. Twins. Twins?! What is she supposed to do with twins? The thought of one baby is immobilizing, but two? And what if Draco doesn’t want them? What is he’s angry and he abandons her? Some part of her knows that this man who she’s spent that past-almost-year with would never do these things, but she’s terrified.

She knows she has another two weeks before she starts showing too obviously, so she walks silently out of the Healer’s office and starts formulating a plan. She can’t make it obvious to Draco that something’s off. But she needs to tell someone, and though she loves her friends, she knows not a single one of them can keep their mouths shut.

Her hand drifts to her lower stomach, and for a second she loses herself in the reality that she has two whole HUMAN BEINGS growing inside of her. She feels hope and fear and confusion rising in her throat, stinging her eyes, and she has to rush back to her office before she bursts into tears on the ground. 

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to the crying witch, Draco Malfoy is slumped elegantly on that same leather couch in the corner. 

Draco nearly has a heart attack. Not because she burst in so abruptly, but because she’s never cried like this before. At least not in front of him. He starts imagining what could have happened, what someone could have done to her, what he is going to have to do to said person—

She raises her head from her arms, revealing swollen eyes and tear-splotched cheeks, sees him, and promptly starts sobbing again.

“Merlin, Draco,” she pushes out between bursts of laughing-tears, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you say something? You’ve really caught me at the worst possible moment, and—“

“What happened, Granger?,” he asks, voice low and gentle, “Tell me what happened.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” she lies, eyes darting anywhere but his face. She rubs the tears off her face with the back of her hand and releases a breathy laugh. “Just a rough day, a bad argument, nothing major. I’m just being dramatic. Its--its nothing.”

His eyes darken. She swallows. It’s obvious he knows she’s lying. But what is she going to do? She thought she had two weeks to plan, to decide, to run away and start a new life in Nova Scotia (ok, she only considered it for a moment).

“Alright, sit back down,” she says, voice small and a little raw from all the crying, “I-um-I have something I have to tell you. And, I-uh-I just want-uh-you to stay calm while I explain, and then you can say whatever you like, alright? Ok, here we go. Um, so, you know how I’ve been feeling bad the past couple of weeks?” She pauses, swallowing again, asking herself if she is really going to do this right now, in this way.

He nods, silently. He stares at her with such intensity she thinks she might fracture into a million pieces.

“Well, turns out I’m not sick,” she mumbles, losing confidence, “I’m-um, well, I’m pregnant. There it is. I’m pregnant.”

She expects his heart to stop. She expects to watch him freeze, his eyes widen, his leg stop bouncing. He does none of these things. He just curses and starts grinning. 

“Well, Granger, you certainly know how to upstage a man. I came in here to ask you to marry me, you know? Exactly 19 months to the day since our first date. I had a whole romantic speech planned, I’ve got the ring right here, in fact, and our whole band of sorry friends are just down the hall waiting for my signal to come congratulate us on our upcoming nuptials. But I should have know, the Hermione Granger would certainly find a way to overshadow my grand proposal.”

His voice grows in volume and love and excitement and joy as he continues and grins at her knowing he scared her and knowing he just dropped a bomb, and she starts blubbering again, laughing at the two of them, at his botched proposal and her equally-botched pregnancy reveal.

“Yes,” she squeaks, getting up from her chair and locking eyes with him. “I mean, my answer is yes, of course. But, what do you think about, I mean...,” she looks down and her hands and eyes rest on her stomach.

And just like 19 months ago, he asks, “Do you take me for a fool, Granger? The Malfoys are an ancient pureblood family obsessed with lineage. I saw them--yes, I know its twins--appear on my family tree two whole months ago. And I’m not a bloody idiot, I noticed you throwing up in the mornings and not eating very much. You’re quite dense about some things, you know. I’ve been in agony waiting for you to realize.”

And she’s giggling uncontrollably now, almost hysterical, and she rushes over, throwing her arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder. His hands slip down to the small of her waist, tugging her to him, and he whispers in her ear, “We’re having twins, Hermione. Twins.”

And she whispers back, “Twins and marriage, Draco. We never do anything slowly, do we?” Happy tears glisten in her eyes as the heartbroken and frightened tears of earlier dry on her cheeks. 

And they pull apart and look at each other and know that, against all odds, they’ve found and built something so special. He pulls out the ring and she gasps and says yes over and over and over and he touches her stomach and she smiles and they walk out of the office together to find Harry, Ginny, Ron, Blaise, and Pansy looking at them incredulously.

“Well?,” Pansy demands, pursing her lips, “I expected this to take fifteen minutes max, but the two of you have been in there for at least double that? Botch the proposal, Draco?” 

Draco smirks playfully at her. “No, Pans, it actually went perfectly,” he lies smoothly as he squeezes Hermione’s small hand. “And it’s extra good that I proposed today, because otherwise our twins would have been the first bastard Malfoy descendants, and that would have been a tad embarrassing.” 

Draco thrives on the shock of his friends, and he feels pride building up inside of him, coursing through his veins as he imagines a future with his powerful, amazing wife and their undoubtedly-perfect children. He never imagined that after all the darkness and sacrifice and pain of his childhood that he could make such dreams a reality. 

And Hermione? She just fakes a gasp at Draco’s brash statement, pretending that she didn’t script his exact words just so she would get to see the shocked looks on her friend’s faces. 

Because honestly, taking things slow, being cautious, hesitating? That has never been their style. 

[wantedbetterforyou]

Missed you (D.H.)

Diego Hargreeves x reader

summary: There’s nothing better than couple reunions. Even in 1963 Dallas, you and Diego find each other and are eager to catch up.

“I think I got everything we need for the next few days” you call out into Elliot’s loft, expecting anyone home to reply. Sighing as you release the brown paper bags onto the wooden table. You’re relieved to be doing this, true be told when you arrived in 1962 you hadn’t expected anyone else to be here too.

You searched for anyone from the Hargreeves family for days. Returning to the Alley way multiple times before giving up and trying to adjust to life in the 60’s. ‘If the timeline’s getting fucked because I’m here might as well make it count’ you reasoned with yourself while becoming involved in local politics. It wasn’t a group of hundreds or thousands meeting to discuss strategies, instead it was groups of 15 or so meeting in black-owned establishments. That’s how you fortunately met Allison, when the meeting you attended was hosted at the salon she had been working at. You’d been staying in a spare room at her home since. You often returned to the Elliot’s store under the guise of needing a new TV, but foolishly desired Diego would drop out of the sky one of those moments.  

You walk into the dimly-lit living room area to find Diego and Five discussing among themselves. You feel the air leave your lungs as your throat dries, Diego is really here. He looks different, longer hair, a beard rather than his usual stubble, and he looks stockier. What a sight for sore eyes. He’s tucking in his black shirt into his pants before he spots you, blissfully unaware that the same person he’s spent months thinking about is right in front of him. “Diego” you say just above a whisper, afraid that any louder and this fantasy would disappear, but it’s real. He’s real and he’s taking huge strides before you and you almost begin to speak again before he gently holds the sides of your face tenderly and pulls you into a passionate kiss.

You’re eyes flutter shut immediately, and you melt into his hands. Shock was your initial reaction to the sudden kiss, but your muscle memory kicked in and even you’re surprised your body still recognizes his touch after so long. It’s electrifying kissing him for the first time in months and if you could see yourselves now you’re sure it looks like a movie kiss.

You pull away first but cover your hands around his, making sure to keep them firmly planted on your sides. Then you’re stuttering and struggling to get a single sentence out. So much to tell Diego, you’re sure you could write a book about it. Your mind is racing and words still can’t seem to come out, all you can do is smile at him and laugh at how unbelievable the situation is. After a few moments of intense eye-contact, his features soften even more. He takes in your outfit. Something you would’ve never wore in 2019, yet here you were in a sunshine yellow colored dress that has a ribbon around the waist to accentuate your features. It is also adored with a collar and goes past your knees, it is the 60’s after all. “Holy fuck, I mean look at me” you finally express, letting your hands off of his to motion towards your dress and hair. You look good he tells you, giving you a once over as if he hadn’t been doing that since he noticed you. “I look like a housewife” you pause, “but you? You look really good” letting your arm rest gripping his biceps. When you meet his eyes again, he’s looking at you with such intensity you might explode.

“So how many siblings is it you actually have?” you hear an accented voice question wandering into the room, she vigilantly watches you from her position against the door frame. “This is my partner from 2019” he explains, glancing at you briefly before directing his attention back to her. You aren’t sure why you feel this pang of insecurity hit you and to find relief from it, you intertwine your hand with his. “And in the current present too” you add, squeezing his hand for reassurance. She chooses to ignore your responses and directs her attention to Five and Diego again, questioning what they plan on doing as soon as they find Reginald Hargreeves.

Five insisted that they leave now as to not waste anymore time but Diego managed to spare a few minutes to be alone with you.

“I don’t think your friend really likes me” you mention while casually caressing his face and tucking his long strands away from his face. His hands interlocked behind the small of your back in order to be as close as possible. You never imagined Diego with long hair - in fact he kept himself very clean cut in modern times, you’d have to ask him about the cause of his drastic change. The new look isn’t unwelcome though, if cameras were more ready available during this time period you’d memorize this moment forever. Diego needs into the touch and allows himself close his eyes. He’d never fully let his guard down but moments like these, he’s the most vulnerable. He still doesn’t know how to ask for the things he desperately wants but you’ve learn to read him.

Prior to the time travel, your relationship had gone through every stage there was. At the beginning neither could get enough of the other. There were nights Diego closed up the gym and waited so he could bend you over on the ring and nights where you both took your time. Kissing and licking every part of one another, you had fallen into a comfortable bliss of sex when wanted and could let each other know with the simplistic of body language tics.

Suddenly very aware of how little distance exist between Diego and you, you calculate the next moves precisely. First letting your arms to drop to his hips and walk backwards until you hit the bed. This maneuver being muscle memory after so many nights spent in the gym boiler room. Hitting the bed with a slight bounce you quickly get back to work, undoing his belt and pulling him towards the bed and on top of you. He’s quick to catch your lips in a heated kiss before using his arms on the sides of your head to prop himself up. It dips as he debates kissing you again. You’re breathlessly looking at him, flushed and the way you’re staring at him makes him want to take you right then and there. You’ve got a dress on and he thinks about 10 different positions he could make you cum in without having to take off his clothes but debates against this. Five needs him, they have to follow through with the lead.

“Please, I need you” you sound just as desperate as you actually are but it’s been so long that shame is taking the backseat today. He breaks the eye contact first. Letting his head hang and sighing before completely removing his weight off your body. “I’m still me under this dress” you try to remove tension from the situation with a joke, you don’t want to take the rejection personally. You stand up patting down any creases that might have formed on the dress. “It’s not that, I have to go” He immediately responds, sensing the insecurity in your order and wanting to do anything to dissipate it. There isn’t enough words to express how relieved he is to see you and how BAD he wants you too but alas. “The dress looks good. You look so good. When I’m done with this shit, I’m going to fuck you all night” adjusting his belt and nodding his head towards the bed.

You take another good look at him, his beard still sticking out to you. Imagining the feeling of his beard against your most sensitive  nether regions is too much to bear. Your thighs clench at the thought.

note: How do y’all write the canon story and not accidentally fuck up little things? oh well. If you liked this, like/reblog please. Yes this is a repost, not sure why I don’t show up in tags :(

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-Jeon Jungkook

You never expected to see him again-let alone date him-but here you are, five years after first meeting him, and now you’re pretty sure you’re in love with Jeon Jungkook. He’s always been sweet, and clever, and somewhat quiet, and he’s definitely always been this good looking, however, there’s something different about him now-and it’s not that he’s really into Tiktok challenges and speaks all the millennial slang fluently. No, it’s something you can’t quite put your finger on. Something that makes you more intrigued in Jeon Jungkook than ever before. The same something that seems to have him staring at you intently whenever he thinks you’re not looking, as if he’s just waiting to kiss you- or more accurately, to taste you. 

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, Fluff, Jeon Jungkook, BTS!Vampires, Bangtan!Vampires, Vampire AU, Vampire Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook x you, Jungkook x reader, 

Genre: Fluff

Title: Theories of a Vampire

“Do you want a sip of this? It’s really good.” You ask your boyfriend as you take another sip of your iced mocha latte, tilting your head in his direction, offering him a mischievous smile as you shove the drink toward him. 

“Ah, no. I’m good.” Jungkook hurries to say, and his tongue slides out to wet his lips, as he glances away from you and stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket. “I’m not thirsty.” 

“Suit yourself.” You shrug and take another gulp of the drink, sliding your hand into his-icy fingers cold against his own which are long and warm in your grasp-as you continue to walk through the park. 

It’s a pretty day. Warm, the air losing a bit of its chill, and you’re glad you had agreed to skip the last half of work to spend it with Jungkook. 

Speaking of.

Glancing over at your boyfriend once more, his brow furrowed as if he’s lost in deep thought, you nudge his side, and when he finally focuses back on you, you raise a brow at him curiously. “You okay? What are you thinking so hard about?” 

“Nothing.” He shrugs off your question and reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck with his free hand, a nervous tic he always did, and had done since you had first met him in your biology class freshman year of college. 

You pull him to a stop, and shoot him a stern look, as you toss your now empty cup into a nearby trash can. “Jeon Jungkook. You’re worried about something. Tell me what.” 

“I’m not worried per say-” Jungkook starts to protest, and at your fierce expression, backtracks slightly, letting out a defeated sigh as he glances up at the filtered sunlight streaming down on the two of you. “Okay, fine. It’s a big deal for the hyungs to invite you to eat with us, and I’m just nervous okay?” 

You arch a brow at him, and reach out for his free hand, taking both in your own, as you pull him toward you, and lean up to press a quick kiss to the end of his nose. “Why? You think they won’t like me? Come on, Kookie, what’s not to like?” You tease gently, fingers stroking across the skin that covers the backs of his knuckles as you wait for his reply. 

“Of course they’ll like you.” Jungkook blurts out, and he screws his eyes shut momentarily, wrinkling his nose in the adorable way he does when he’s agitated, the way that makes him look like a bunny. He opens his eyes once more, and looks down at you, before he sighs and admits quietly, “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me.” 

His statement is odd, but you don’t question it. At least not out loud. 

Because Jungkook has changed a bit since you first met him-changed a lot actually. 

When the two of you had met that fateful day in biology class, becoming lab partners first, and then friends later, Jungkook had been introverted, but polite and sweet and someone you wanted to befriend. He had stuttered his words when he was nervous or excited and had had the biggest, brown, doe eyes you had ever seen. 

And now-years later-after losing contact and reconnecting and discovering that there might be some sort of truth to the bullshit that is best friends to lovers tropes-Jungkook was not the same. 

He was still sweet and quiet and thought before he spoke, and he still stuttered when he got excited, but he wasn’t the same boy you had met all those years ago. 

No, something was different about Jeon Jungkook-he was heavier, a little more serious, and definitely more responsible than before-and you attributed most of those changed personality traits to simply maturity and growth. 

However. 

There was something about Jungkook-the new Jungkook-that had you constantly fighting the urge to be with him constantly-like a moth drawn to a flame. The way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching-those big, doe brown eyes large and dark with blown pupils and some sort of emotion that made your stomach warm pleasantly with desire-it was dangerous. 

And you were helpless in the face of whatever it was. Whoever he was. 

You pull yourself back to the present, only to find said subject of your deep thoughts watching you in the way you had just been imagining, and you have to look away, look at something else, before those endless eyes swallow you whole and you lose yourself completely. 

You clear your throat, and tug at his hand, resuming your walk through the park. “Kookie, you live with them. They’re your roommates. I’m sure they won’t judge you if you act a little stupid around your girlfriend.” 

“Wait. I act stupid around you?” Jungkook jogs to match your pace, and you hear the offense in his voice, as you tuck your emerging smile back behind the barrier of your lips and turn to face him, walking backwards, as you force down a giggle at the affronted look he gives you. 

Damn. He’s so cute. 

“Only sometimes.” You quip back, and as he opens his mouth to protest once more, you reach out and tap the end of his nose with your fingertip, effectively shutting him up, as you let out a laugh and continue walking, swinging your joined hands between you.

*******

The first thing you think as Jungkook pulls you up the sidewalk toward his apartment later that night is-Holy shit, what do these guys do for work? 

Because this is not a typical, six guys living together out of college, run down, bad neighborhood housing unit. 

No, this is a penthouse, in a gated community, and you’re fairly certain there’s the shimmer of a pool out back beneath the moonlight. 

The second coherent thought you have-as Jungkook leads you inside, and you’re greeted by his six male roommates is-Holy shit, how are they all so hot?

And you’re pretty sure your mouth is gaping open as each of them greet you and introduce themselves in turn, before escorting you both to the dining room-an actual old timey dining room-where dinner waits. 

And now, here you are, sitting at the long table with Jungkook on your right and one of the boys on your left-the one who seems to be just the right mix of extremely handsome and mischievous, Taehyung?-raising a bite of the opening course of soup to your lips. 

Damn. It’s delicious. 

Your eyes go wide, and the man across from you-the blonde one, tall and looking like a movie star, Seokjin?-offers you the hint of a smile, as he arches a brow in your direction and asks, “Enjoying the food, (Y/N)?” 

“Immensely.” You say, and you can’t stop yourself from taking another bite. 

Seokjin chuckles, the sound pleasant and soothing, and then bows his head slightly in your direction, and you can’t help but notice how small the spoon looks in his large fingers. “That’s a compliment then, so I should thank you.” 

“You made this?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and a few of the other boys stop mid quiet conversations to glance over at you with amused expressions on their beautiful faces. 

You blush, but luckily, Jungkook comes to your rescue, his hand finding yours beneath the table, as he leans over and says proudly, “Jin-hyung is one of the best cooks around. He can make anything taste great.” 

“I believe that.” You nod, already hungrily diving back into the delicious bowl of soup before you without a second thought, missing the look of fond amusement that crosses Jungkook’s dark eyes as he watches you. 

Also missing to note-perhaps more important-that your bowl of soup is the only one that seems to be lessening in contents. 

*****

Later, you are sitting beside Jungkook on one of the couches in the den, legs crossed beneath you, as you sip some sweet, candied cocktail Seokjin had made you all, and as the alcohol warms your veins, and the men around you chatter and laugh quietly amongst themselves, you feel slightly more comfortable than you had at the beginning of the night. 

“So.” You glance over at your boyfriend, as his arm comes to rest on the couch behind you, and he eyes you over the cocktail glass still held to your lips. “What do you think?” 

“What do I think?” You repeat back, lowering the glass, and your voice, as you scoot into his side, and lean your head on his shoulder, surveying the room for a moment before answering. Dammit. They’re all still too handsome for your liking. You’d thought a few drinks would tone down their good looks just a little. “What do I think?” You parrot once more, and jab Jungkook in the side, as he yelps and winces beside you. “I think you should have warned me that all your roommates are just as smoking as you, Jeon Jungkook.” 

You grin at him, ready to make a teasing jab about how they may be even more handsome than him, when the two of you are interrupted by Taehyung plopping down on the couch beside Jungkook, jostling you both. 

“Come on, Kookie.” The older man practically whines, throwing his own arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, as he leans around his broad form and flashes you a charming smile. “You can’t hog all of (Y/N)’s time. You get to bask in her beauty all day every day. Let some of us have a turn.” 

You bite back a grin, because you’ve met men like Kim Taehyung before. They are irresistibly charming, and smooth, and all together too incredibly hot to exist, yet you know they mean no harm with their slick words and damning good looks. 

“Ask away, Hyung.” Jungkook sighs between the two of you, and leans his head back on the couch in a gesture of defeat as he motions to Taehyung. “I know you’re going to question her anyway. Get it over with.” 

“Yah. That’s a good boy.” Taehyung slaps Jungkook’s shoulder, and the sound is solid, and you don’t miss the way Jungkook winces under the powerful looking show of brotherhood as Taehyung leans out once more to make eye contact with you. “So, (Y/N).” 

“Yes, Taehyung?” You shoot back, not intimidated by his presence or confidence now that you’ve had a few drinks in your system. 

Taehyung grins, and you note a slight hint of approval in his dark eyes, before he curbs his expression and steeples long fingers before plush lips. “How’d you and Kookie here meet?” 

“College.” You say simply, shrugging, as you set your empty cocktail glass to the side, and glance at Jungkook, whose dark eyes are full of dread, as if he’s waiting for his hyung to ask something ridiculous and embarrass both of you. “Freshman year.” 

“And you’re just now together?” Taehyung asks with shock in his deep tone, eyes widening slightly as he glances between the two of you, as if he can’t believe it took you so long to realize you were interested in each other. 

“Well, yeah.” Jungkook shrugs now, a blush darkening his cheeks, and he bites his lip in that way you love, though right now, it’s less cute and more worried, as he chews his bottom lip between his teeth. “We lost touch for awhile.” 

One of the other men-the smaller, petite one, who looks too pretty to be real, Jimin?-appears behind Taehyung and perches himself on the arm of the couch, listening in on your conversation with a cute, delicate tilt of his head that sends his dangling silver earrings tinkling in a fairylike way. 

Taehyung snorts in amusement at Jungkook’s words. “So what you mean to say is you were too much of a dense idiot to notice her sooner.” 

Jungkook straightens beside you and glares at the older man, and suddenly, you’re slightly worried he might deck him, but luckily, Jimin jumps into the conversation just in time. 

“Tae.” He slaps the man’s shoulder, and Taehyung glances back at him, as Jimin’s features contort into a look of disapproval. “Don’t tease Kookie.” 

“Fine.” Taehyung sighs, and you are surprised how easy it was for Jimin to put him in his place, considering Taehyung is probably three inches taller and at least ten pounds heavier than the fairyesque man sitting on the arm of the couch. 

Jimin offers you a smile, and you don’t miss the way his eyes crease with the expression, as he says in a soft, lilting tone, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). We’ve heard a lot.” 

Jungkook blushes once more beside you, and you laugh at his obvious discomfort, reaching out for his hand which is still balled in his lap. 

“What we haven’t heard though-” Taehyung leans forward again, once more on the attack, and offers the two of you a raise of his brow and the slight hint of smirk on his full lips. “Is if you guys have done it yet.” 

“Taehyung.” Jimin sighs in exasperation and rolls his eyes. 

“Hyung!” Jungkook almost shouts out, drawing the attention of the older men, conversing with each other about something in the other corner of the room. His face reddens, and he lowers his voice, hissing out, “You can’t ask stuff like that.” 

“So that’s a no?” Taehyung quips, settling back into the couch, his legs crossed, as he regards you both with an air of amusement and aloofness. He holds your gaze, and you don’t back down, as his eyes move over your face, before he states suggestively, “Well, be careful when you do, (Y/N). Jungkookie’s really into biting.” 

And then he has the audacity to raise his brows at you in a gloating smirk, and send you a wink from across the couch. 

“HYUNG!” Jungkook is practically fire red now, and you are trying to hold back a laugh, knowing he’s legitimately embarrassed now under his roommate’s constant teasing. 

However. There it is again-buried deep within the black of his pupils-the look of absolute guttural want that sometimes washes over Jungkook’s features when he thinks you’re not looking, flashing across his irises at his roommate’s words.

“Do you always ask all of your roommates girlfriends these types of questions?” You retort, suddenly desperate to ignore the flaming feeling Jungkook’s brief express had lit in your belly, raising a curious eyebrow in the now lounging Taehyung’s direction. 

He flashes you another wink and a boxy smile. “Only the hot ones.” 

“Taehyung.” 

A deep voice sounds behind you, booming in the small space, and you jump slightly, whirling around to see Namjoon standing, arms crossed over his chest, shooting a serious look at the younger man. 

“That’s enough.” 

Taehyung pouts, but ducks his head to the older man and grumbles out, “Yes, hyung.” 

You had been right about the aura you got from Namjoon from the beginning after all. He’s beautiful, and tall, and has the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, but his features are set in a serious, mature way, and now-seeing how Taehyung reacts to his commands-you know that he’s the one in charge, at least in this house. 

“I hope they haven’t pestered you too much, (Y/N).” Namjoon motions toward Taehyung and Jimin, and offers you the hint of what you think is a smile, revealing a hollow dimple in his upper cheek, which catches you off guard. 

“Not at all.” You stumble over your words in your hurry to answer him, because the man standing before you makes you feel small and obedient and it’s almost as if your brain is begging to do whatever will please him. “It was all in good fun.” 

Namjoon nods, and then glances over your head, addressing your boyfriend. “Jungkook. It’s getting late. You should probably see (Y/N) home.” 

Jungkook rises without argument. “Right.” 

You are shocked, you have never seen Jungkook so quick to do what someone asks, and as you pull on your coat and say goodbye to each of the six men with who you have spent the evening, there is a part of you that wonders if roommates are not the only thing these men are to each other. 

*******

It is several days later, sitting in your own lackluster apartment, that you find out the truth to your questions from the night spent with Jungkook and his six mysterious, all too good looking, roommates. 

“(Y/N), come here for a sec!” 

You hear Jungkook calling to you from down the hallway, and pushing your reading glasses atop your head, and setting aside the work you are plugging away at, you follow his voice to your bedroom, where he is laying on the bed, staring at his phone. 

“What?” You ask, leaning against the door frame, letting yourself admire for a moment the swath of tan skin that peeks from beneath his hoodie, stretched across his muscular abdomen. 

“Do this TikTok trend with me.” Jungkook replies without looking at you, swiping through something you can’t see on his phone. 

“Kookie, no.” You complain, crossing the room to plop down on the bed beside him, as you glance at what he’s looking at. Some sort of new TikTok video with fang filters and gold eyes.”You know I don’t like being in your videos. I don’t want to.” 

“Come on.” Jungkook looks at you then, wide doe eyes dark with pleading, lips pulled into his teeth in a pout expression that makes you weak at the knees. “Just this once. Please?” 

You try to resist. You really do. But dammit, you can’t say no to those large eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, staring at you in such a way. 

“Damn you, Jeon.” You grumble out, and Jungkook grins triumphantly, because at those words and the sullen expression on your face, he knows he has won. 

You lie down flat on your back beside him on the small bed and squint your eyes as you glance up at his phone, your own face suddenly reflected back at you in garish light. 

“What do we have to do?” You ask reluctantly, careful not to stare at your reflection too long, instead, choosing to glance at Jungkook’s face shown back to you on the camera, the way his dark, long hair shadows his eyes, the way his pink lips are pursed as he gets the angle just right. 

“It’s really simple.” Jungkook shifts beside you, and his long finger taps the phone screen, placing the filter over the video, before he glances to the side and shoots you a grin-a grin so soft and excited that you can’t help but melt into the idea of the video just a little bit. “Vampires are really in right now. And basically, this filter shows you what you’d look like as one. See?” 

He shifts the phone-still held above your heads-and you glance at the two of you, now with gleaming golden irises and long sharp fangs that poke past your overly red lips. 

“I hate this.” You sigh out, and Jungkook chuckles from beside you, shifting the phone so that the filter falls away from you both for a moment, as he rises to his elbow beside you on the bed. 

He smells good-like cologne and fresh, clean linens, and the shampoo he uses in the shower. 

“C’mon, jagi. Just one video. For me.” Jungkook’s lips twitch, as if he wants to smile a the pout that comes across your features. He leans down and surprises you by kissing you briefly on the lips. “I promise if you do this with me, and be a good sport-” He adds, giving you a pointed look, as you sight once more. “I’ll make it worth it.” 

“How?” You quip back, though your stomach is fluttering at how close he is, and the buzzing hasn’t left your lips from when his mouth covered yours for the briefest of moments. You swallow, and try to look anywhere but those eyes-eyes that make you want to fall in and never come back out. “You’ll buy me boba?” 

“Yes.” Jungkook nods, agreeing too quickly, and reaches out to tap the end of your nose with his index finger, an odd look coming across his face. “Among other things.” 

Before you can ask him what he means, and why his words have suddenly sent your heart racing, he is lying back down beside you, and holding up the phone once more. “Okay, let’s go.” 

The video clicks to life, the filter turning you both into sad replicas of the vampires from Twilight, and Jungkook grins in his reflection on the screen, as he tilts his head toward you and asks, “What do you know about vampires, (Y/N)?” 

“Yah.” You scoff and roll your eyes, but remembering his promise, force yourself to look into the camera and continue with the video. “You didn’t tell me this was a pop quiz, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“It’s not.” Jungkook shrugs beside you, and you have to admit, his white teeth flashing behind pink lips look oddly enticing with the sharp points of the fangs pricking the plush skin. “It’s just for fun. Vampires. Go.” 

You sigh, but do as he asks. “Fine. Vampires.” You hold up your hand for the camera to see, and begin ticking down fingers as you list in a slightly flat, bored tone. “Vampires are allergic to garlic.” 

“Wrong.” Jungkook pipes up beside you, and you are startled, so much so, that you lose concentration and flick your eyes to him, forgetting about the video momentarily. 

He raises a brow at you and motions with his head toward the phone, as if telling you silently to go on. 

You try to refocus, stuttering slightly over your words. “Okay, um, vampires can’t enter a house uninvited.” 

“That’s not true either.” Jungkook interjects, and you flash him a glare, warning him to stop interrupting you, and wondering how he knows all of this enough to argue with you. 

“Fine.” You hiss out, and your eyes flash beneath the gold of the filter, as you turn back to the camera, starting to rapid fire off the rest of your list so your boyfriend can’t stop you to tell you how wrong you are again. “They can’t tolerate holy water, crosses burn them, sunlight hurts their skin, they can morph into bats, and they have no reflections.” 

You catch your breath, confident that you’ve beat him. 

“Inaccurate, false, entirely a myth, purely laughable-” Jungkook starts to list point blank from beside you, and you can feel the daggers you throw in his direction, as he pointedly ignores you and finishes up his smug commentary. “And last but not least, stupid as hell.” 

He turns to you, and meets your gaze, dodging the daggers completely before he shoots you a shit eating grin. 

“Fu-” You start to swear in frustration, and then you hear the video sound signal that the camera has been turned off. 

“You can’t swear in my TikTok video, babe. What will my followers think?” Jungkook, who has come to a sitting position beside you, looks over at you with dramatically horrified eyes and a berating smirk on his face, a look that you’d like to wipe right off his lips. 

“You asked me what I knew about vampires!” You protest hotly, coming to a cross legged position beside him, as you run a hand through your hair with jerky agitation. “And then you basically told me it was all bullshit!” You take in a deep breath, feeling yourself calm slightly. “Which is true, I guess, because vampires aren’t real, but still.” 

“I mean-” Jungkook finishes up doing something with the video and then locks his phone, tossing it onto the nightstand, as he meets your gaze once more, with a suddenly thoughtful look crossing his features. “Technically, not all of it is bullshit.” 

“Oh really?” You let out a humorless bark of laughter, and cross your arms over your chest as you glare at him. “Please. Tell me what’s true then.” 

“Vampires can’t cross running water.” Suddenly, Jungkook looks sheepish, and though the expression is cute, and softens your ire toward him, you’re not sure why. “That’s true.” 

“What?” You ask, slightly dumbfounded, staring at him. “That’s a thing?” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook asks, a slight question, confusion crossing his pretty features once more at your look of surprise. “You didn’t know that?” 

“I mean-” You shrug, and suddenly you’re on the verge of laughing. “No? I guess I never got around to studying vampire theory when we were in college.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, sitting silently across from you on the bed. “But apparently you did. How do you know all of this? Is my boyfriend secretly a closet nerd?” 

“I-” Jungkook starts to say, and then his words falter to a stop, and as you watch, his eyes get that look again-dark and slightly wild and hungry-and his gaze falls down your face to your lips in a way that has your heart pounding against your rib cage like a trapped bird. “(Y/N), there’s something you need to know.” 

“Okay-” You say, suddenly nervous, but unable to think or even wonder what he’s going to drop on you when he’s still staring at you as if he’s starving and you’re the last meal in the world. 

“I-” He starts again, and your eyes follow the movement as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them red and shining, and your heart more breathless than ever. He reaches up to rake a hand through his dark, thick hair, and his movements are agitated, which doesn’t seem to fit the mood that fills the air between the two of you. 

“Just don’t-” He tries again, and huffs out a frustrated sigh, meeting your gaze once more, and suddenly the tension between you is gone, his wide eyes back to normal. “Just don’t freak out, okay?” 

You swallow, and your fingers start to fiddle with the blanket between the two of you, your heartbeat loud in your ears. “Okay.” You say, for the second time, in as many minutes. 

You watch as Jungkook takes in a deep, steadying breath, and you prepare yourself for the words, ready to hear the words, ready to feel the cut. 

He’s cheated on you. He’s breaking up with you. He’s found someone else. He’s in love with Taehyung, or Jimin, and hell, who would blame him? 

“I’m a vampire.” 

Your eyes, screwed shut and waiting for the bomb, come open so fast that you feel dizzy for a moment, and you’re pretty sure your jaw drops to the floor. 

And then, you’re laughing, because you’re sure he’s joking. 

“No, seriously, Kookie, funny joke, but what is it?” You reach out, shoving him playfully in the shoulder, relieved laughter still trickling from between your lips. 

“I am serious.” Jungkook watches you laugh, confusion on his face at your reaction. 

“Vampires aren’t real, babe.” You manage to straighten your face and turn to him once more, eyebrows arched curiously as you stare at him. “What are you talking about? You’re joking. Right?” 

The silence grows between you after your question, and suddenly, your heart drops into your stomach. 

“Wait-” You begin to say, inching away from him to the other side of the bed, because suddenly, you’re very worried that Jungkook isn’t right in the head. “You really think you’re a vampire?” 

“I am a vampire.” Jungkook sighs out impatiently, reaching up to pinch his nose briefly between his thumb and forefinger, as he closes his eyes and takes in another deep breath. “(Y/N), that’s what I’m telling you. When we lost touch-” 

“No.” You stand up, suddenly shaking your head, your heart still pounding, but for a different reason now. “This is crazy talk, Jungkook. You can’t be serious.” 

“I am.” He stands and you square off across from each other in your small bedroom, the late afternoon sun shining onto the carpet and creating patterns in the space between you. Space that feels too far to overcome. “I’m not making this up, jagi. After college, I got into an accident and Namjoon found me and-” 

“Namjoon?” You scoff out, not believing your ears, as you stare at your boyfriend incredulously. “Now you’re trying to tell me your roommates are in on this crazy bullshit too?” 

“They’re not my roommates.” Jungkook replies seriously, eyes holding yours, pupils large and black. “They’re my coven. They took me in after saving my life by turning me.” 

“Nope.” You pop the word past your lips and push past him toward the open door. “I’m out. You’re crazy, man.” 

You hear Jungkook follow you down the hallway toward the bathroom. 

“(Y/N), will you please just listen to me-” 

“Get out of my apartment, Jungkook.” You shout back, reaching the safety of the bathroom,, already moving to slam the door shut on his face, but managing to get out through the shrinking crack, “Don’t come back until you’re ready to stop being insane.” 

You wait to hear the door crash into the lock, the sound of the clicking doorknob sealing you into the room, the final thump of Jungkook’s feet as he walks away and leave. 

But none of that happens. 

Because Jungkook has blocked the door from closing with his hand, and holy shit, is he strong. 

“Jungkook-” You warn, pushing against the door, as he manages to push himself inside the small bathroom with you. “Get. Out.” 

“No.” 

You look up at him in surprise-you’ve never heard him this serious, this firm before-and his eyes are dark, and his lips are set into a thin line, hand still holding open the partially closed door, wide shoulders filling the frame. 

“What?” You gasp out, anger starting to bubble its way into your chest. 

“I said no.” Jungkook repeats and takes a step toward you, backing you toward the bathtub that takes up one side of the room. “I need you to listen to me.” 

“I am listening to you!” You shriek, almost hysterical, as you feel your back hit the dingy, thin fabric of the shower curtain you and Jungkook had bought together at a local secondhand store. “You’re not listening to yourself, Jungkook. Because all this talk is batshit crazy.” Your knees hit the edge of the hidden tub. “Vampires?” You stare hard at him, and he’s so close, you can smell the hint of his soap. “Accidents? Covens??” 

“It’s true! All of it.” Jungkook blurts out, and his voice is frantic now, and pleading, as his eyes rove the space of the shower behind you, as if searching for a way to show you. “I’ll prove it to you!” 

“How?” You exclaim sharply, tired of this game. 

His doe eyes scan the room, and then he points to the shower, which you have almost entirely wedged yourself into with his forward advance, and his face brightens. “The shower.” 

“What about it?” You ask, and the situation would be comical, the two of you breathing hard and jammed into your tiny bathroom, if it were any other situation. Anything but this. Still, a little bit of the humor sneaks into your next words as the start of a hysterical laugh. “Are you going to 

Jungkook ignores you, reaching over your head for the handheld shower head, simultaneously using his other hand to turn on the hot water. 

He holds the now running head out to you expectantly, and states quietly, firmly, as if his words should mean something to you, “Vampires can’t cross running water.” 

You scoff, arms still held at your sides, and when you don’t move, your boyfriend closes the distance between you, and shoves the shower head into your hands. 

“What are you-” You start to protest, already feeling the water soaking your socks and puddling on the cheap tile of the bathroom floor, but before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook is stepping toward you once more. 

He reaches out a hand, and you note his fingers are trembling, which seems odd, but before you can think about it too much, his hand flattens against an invisible barrier, fingers splayed now for you to see, as he meets your gaze once more. 

“That doesn’t prove anything, you could be faking.” You snap out, although suddenly, your heart has sped up in your chest, and your own hand is shaking, making the water from the shower trail crazy patterns on the floor at your feet. 

You shove your own hand out toward Jungkook-a little too hard-and he winces slightly as you jab him in the face. 

“Sorry.” You apologize, pulling your hand back, and study him for a moment. “Do it again.” 

“Look.” Jungkook sighs, and stepping toward you once more, holds out his hand, pressing it up against the invisible glass pane, before he shifts his whole body up against the barrier. “I’m not faking, (Y/N).” 

And suddenly, your breath is catching in your throat, because even through the steamy bathroom, you can see. You can see that the way his clothes fold, and the way his fingers splay, the way his hair flattens against his forehead, as if pushed against a window, is not fake. 

And that means-

“Holy shit.” You breathe out, lowering the shower wand, as you stare at your boyfriend, water puddled around your feet, mouth open in shock. “You’re a vampire.” 

He offers you the hint of a crooked, humorless smile. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” 

*******

Jungkok sighs from beside you, and turns his head to look at you, for what feels like the fifteenth time in as many minutes. “Will you stop staring at me?” 

“Sorry.” You shrug, propping yourself up on your elbow, as you reach out to poke first his cheek, and then his lips. “It’s just so fascinating. Like. You’re a whole ass vampire. My boyfriend. The vampire.” 

“Stop saying it like that.” Jungkook groans, throwing a hand over his eyes as you giggle in amusement. “Stop saying it like it’s my superhero name or something.” 

“Fine.” You grin, reaching out to push his hand away from his eyes, before you let your fingers fall to his mouth, flipping back his lip slightly, so the start of his white teeth show, as sudden childish excitement fills your tone. “Can I see your fangs?” 

“Really?” Jungkook asks with exasperation, propping himself up beside you, as he shoots you a look of slight frustration. 

“Yeah!” You nod, bouncing beside him slightly on the bed. “That’s like, the biggest thing to being a vampire right? I wanna see them!” 

“I mean, not the biggest thing-”Jungkook starts to grumble beneath his breath, but you’re on top of him, straddling him so your knees hug his hips, and your hands sink into the pillow beneath his head. He looks up at you, eyes wide, as if startled, and when he speaks, his voice is slightly choked. “What are you doing?” 

“Do you wanna bite me, Kook?” You ask, mostly teasing, staring down at him with as mischievous look as you can muster. You don’t allow yourself to focus on how his firm body feels beneath your own. Or the fact that you’re both crammed into the space of your tiny bed, so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. 

“No!” He blurts out, almost panicked, and you feel something like disappointment drop into your chest at his reaction, and you make a move to release him from beneath you. 

But then, his fingers are encircling your wrist, stopping you from pulling away, and you’re caught off guard, as he reaches up with his free hand to caress the side of your face. 

“I mean-” Jungkook speaks again, his voice barely above a murmur, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a harder time hearing him over the sound of your blood suddenly rushing in your ears. He bites his lip, teeth stark against the soft pink flesh. “I didn’t mean that. That was a lie.” 

You try to force a lightness back into yoru voice, a lightness you don’t feel, with the air practically crackling with electricity between the two of you. “You’re telling me that was bullshit, Jeon?” 

He nods, and you see the way his throat bobs as he swallows. “Yeah, that was bullshit.” 

“Why?” You breathe out, every last inch of teasing leaving your body as that look-the look that makes you feel weak and dizzy and hot all at once-floods fully into the caramel irises of Jungkook’s eyes, turning them dark and dangerous and entirely too tempting. 

“Because-” He matches your tone, words barely audible above the pounding of your heart, as his hungry eyes fall once more to your lips, and then down your throat. “I want nothing more than to taste you, (Y/N).” His chest, steady beneath your body, heaves as if he’s trying to catch his breath. “I’ve wanted nothing more since I saw you again-that day in the park. The way you smell, the way your pulse flutters beneath my touch, the way your heartbeat sounds-too loud in my ears-it all drives me insane, and I swear, I’d kill for a chance to bite you. Just once. But I-” 

Jungkook shakes his head as his words trail off, and his pupils constrict a bit, enough to show a ring of color around his eyes once more. 

“But what?” You ask, and your mouth feels dry, because you’re scared of what he’s going to say. You try lightness again, because you’re both struggling. “And don’t give me some Twilight bullshit, Kook, because I swear to God I’ll kill you. And then break up with you.” 

He huffs out a strained laugh, mouth tight, and worried wrinkles around his eyes, and his fingers loosen slightly on your wrist, as he reaches up once more to brush some stray hairs back from your face. “Nah, like I said, most cliche vampire myths aren’t true, and definitely not the ones perpetuated by Twilight.” He sighs, and sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I can control myself, I won’t hurt you, I won’t turn into an animal. One taste won’t give me an insatiable thirst for human blood. It’s nothing like that.” 

“So what is it?” You ask, suddenly curious, trying to focus through the feeling of his fingers now dancing patterns on the bare skin of your side beneath your shirt. 

“I-” His mouth drops open, allowing the word to start, but not finish, and he rolls his eyes, suddenly self deprecating. “It’s stupid actually.” 

You stare at him, and when you don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, he lets out another long sigh and then reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. 

“It’s just that-” He swallows again, and you find your gaze drawn to his lips, the way they move to form his words, the way they would fit perfectly around a pair of long white fangs, the way they would feel against your skin, and you’re so distracted, that you almost miss what he says next. “You’re my first.” 

“What?” You ask, pure confusion lacing your tone, as you force yourself to meet his gaze once more, a gaze now awash in worry and embarrassment. “Your first what?” 

“Oh god, don’t make me say it, jagi, please.” Jungkook groans out, reaching up to swipe at his eyes with his hand, as a blush paints the tan skin of his cheeks. “You’re my first......bite.” 

“Really?” The word of astonishment pops out before you can stop it, and the pink on your boyfriend’s cheeks darkens beneath the cover of his hand. You clear your throat, composing yourself, and reaching out to remove his hand, try a different angle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so surprised. It’s just-” You think hard about your words for a moment before continuing. “Haven’t you been hungry?” 

“Can we not talk about details?” Jungkook pleads, putting a palm over your mouth, as if he physically doesn’t want you to ask questions. “The hyungs kept me fed. I’m fine.” 

“Okay.” You drawl out from behind his hand, and he must feel the smile starting against his skin, because he pulls away from you, but you stop him by pinning him beneath your body, as you hold his gaze. “Fine. So let’s not talk then.” 

Your eyes follow the bob of Jungkook’s throat as he takes in the full meaning of your words, and behind the slight uncertainty that flashes across his eyes, you see something else. 

The desire. 

You lean down, and your lips are almost brushing when you speak again, and the heat in Jungkook’s eyes, alighting the gold specks, is causing coils of anticipation in your core. 

“Do you want to bite me, Kook?” You ask once more, completely serious this time. 

His tongue licks across his lips, and the warmth of his breath washes across your face, as his eyes fall to your mouth, barely centimetres from his own. 

He nods. “Yes.” 

“So stop thinking-” You let your fingers run up the skin beneath his shirt, and he tenses beneath you as your lips find his between each of your words. “And just do what comes naturally.” 

You run your lips across the corner of his mouth, and arch your body into his, angling the juncture of your throat beneath your jaw so that it brushes across his lips and the tip of his nose. 

Jungkook lets a groan slip from between his parted lips, and his fingers find purchase at your hips, breath hot on your skin, teeth grazing your throat as he murmurs against you, “Shit, your heartbeat is so loud.” A hint of teasing seeps into his next words, though he’s slightly breathless. “Is that for me?” 

“I mean-” You pant out, having to choke back a moan, your words stuttering to a stop for a slight moment, as Jungkook sucks open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. “If you want it.” 

“I do.” Jungkook’s voice is low now, a growl, and you start slightly as you feel a sharp prick against the flesh of your throat, at the juncture of your jawline. 

“Are those-” You start to ask, and move as if to pull away, the sudden heat of the moment suddenly taking a backseat to your burning curiosity. 

Jungkook groans, and not in pleasure this time, as he stops you from moving away from him and when he speaks, his voice is full of exasperation, lips still brushing the skin of your neck, and though you can’t see his expressions, you can practically imagine him rolling his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re tying to see them. Not right now.” 

You hide a grin. “Okay. Sorry.” 

“Now.” Jungkook’s fingers curl around your chin, and he makes you meet his gaze, irises almost completely swallowed up in the black of his pupils, as he tilts your head slightly to the side, fingers stroking over the fluttering pulse point beneath your jaw. “I believe you said this was for me?” 

You feel breathless, and lightheaded, and the way he’s looking at you is making it hard for you to think again and all you manage to get out is a dumb sounding, half affirmation in response, “Mmmhmm.” 

He smirks at you, and his fingers play along the crease of your collarbone, tracing the outline of the hollow at the base of your throat. “Remember, this is my first time, so be patient with me, yeah?” 

“This is my first time.” You quip back, though you don’t sound fierce, you sound breathless. “So be gentle.” 

“You know what they say.” Jungkook grins now, and you finally, finally get a look at the coveted fangs as they flash blindingly white in his mouth, and dammit all, if they don’t make him even more sexy. “Practice makes perfect.” 

Damn Jeon Jungkook. Damn Vampire Jeon Jungkook

*****

“Hey, it’s Kookie!” 

Taehyung crows the greeting as soon as the two of you walk through the door of the penthouse, and flinging his arms around the two of you, envelopes you both in a bear hug. 

“Glad you guys could make it. Life has been so boring since you moved out.” Taehyung continues on, dragging the two of you behind him toward the dining room as he talks incessantly over his shoulder, as if he’s been starved for conversation. “You guys down for dinner and drinks and games?” 

You glance at Jungkook, and he shrugs in response. “Yeah, hyung, sounds fund We don’t have plans.” 

“Wait.” 

Taehyung stops dead in the entrance to the dining room and whirls to face the two of you, eyes narrowed, as he looks you both over suspiciously. “something’s different here.” 

Jungkook instantly stiffens beside you, and you feel his fingers curl nervously against your palm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about hyung-” 

“WAIT.” Taehyung leaps toward you, making you step back nervously, as his fingers find your chin and wrench your head to the side. “Aha! I knew it!” 

You know exactly what he’s looking at. 

The almost healed puncture wounds that dot the side of your throat. 

Courtesy of one Jeon Jungkook. 

“Hyung.” Jungkook whines, as if begging his older friend to remain quiet in the matter, a blush already darkening his cheek at what’s coming. 

“I KNEW YOU TWO DID IT.” Taehyung pats your cheek a little bit too hard in his excitement, before crushing Jungkook to him with a few hearty slaps on the back. “Congrats!” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you over his friend’s shoulder, and you stifle a laugh, because no matter how much Taehyung embarrasses him, you know he means well. 

Taehyung releases Jungkook and turns back to you. “Told you he was into biting.” He winks at you slyly, a smirk lighting up his handsome features. 

“Hyung.” Jungkook’s voice has risen an octave, and his cheeks are on fire. 

“You know-” Taehyung motions over his shoulder at Jimin, who has now joined you in the doorway, come to see what the hold up is. “We’re into biting too.” He shoots you a completely wicked grin. “Let us know if you ever wanna join us.” 

“Taehyung. That’s enough.” 

Namjoon’s voice thunders from the dining room beyond, and Taehyung, barely phased, rolls his eyes at you, before he turns and slings an arm around Jimin’s shoulders to enter the dining room. 

But not before giving you one last conspiratorial wink. 

“You’re not really considering that, are you?” Jungkook hisses beneath his breath as you start to enter the dining room behind the other men. 

You shrug, hiding your smile. “Who knows?” At the look of panic that crosses his face, you laugh, reaching out to tap the end of his nose with your finger, before leaning in to kiss him. “Just kidding. But I am into biting too, you know.” You shoot him a suggestive grin. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes and pinches the back of your hand where it rests in his, making you laugh once more as you take your seats at the table. 

“Just promise me two things-you’ll only ever be into biting with me." He points to himself, a slight smile starting to lift the corners of his lips. “Because another vampire myth that I forgot to mention that isn’t bullshit is that we’re insanely jealous.” He ticks another finger at you, and now he’s grinning in that way you love, with his nose scrunched and his eyes turning into half moons. “And, number two, you’ll never use the shower head as a weapon when I’ve done something to upset you.” 

You squeeze his hand where it rests under the table. “Promise.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

She [1]

Warnings: non-consent sex (series)

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: You meet Steve Rogers for an interview but he’s not what you expected.

Note: I’ve been trying to chill the last five days but I obviously got some writing in. It has resulted in this impromptu series and I hope you all like it. It’s looking like it will be about 10 chapters when all is said is done but that being said, I am still working on it.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Reader

Your left ankle bent as you leaned heavily on your heel. You stood before the thick walnut door, a round frosted window on its face. The townhouse stuck out on the old Brooklyn row and all knew its resident. It surprised many that he remained in the borough and he was cherished all the more for it. He was the golden boy of New York.

Well, that’s what people like to believe. You weren’t there to paint another flowery picture of the saviour. You were there to speak with the real man behind the plan. There was a story behind Steve Rogers that had yet to be told and when you were selected to tell it, you knew you had to do it right. The task was both daunting and humbling. It could be your big break.

You knocked and adjusted the bag that hung from your shoulder. You didn’t miss the group of kids at the end of the block gathered around for a glimpse of their hero. The door opened and you were greeted by the man himself. He smiled at you as his hand rested on the curled door handle.

“Hi,” He greeted you. “Thanks for coming. It saves me a lot of trouble.”

“Not at all,” You shook his hand. 

You’d spoken to him briefly over the phone and negotiated the time and place for your interview. You agreed that him coming to the office would cause too much of a flurry. You were sure he was over that.

“Come in,” He stepped back and waved you through.

He closed the door as you looked around the entryway. A thick banister with the same dark wood as the walls led up to the second level and a finely carved archway peeked through to the next room. It was cozy and a lot quainter than you expected. The exposed brick above the panelling lent it a warmth.

“Shoes?” You stopped by the mat.

“Your call,” He said. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

“Thank you, Mr. Rogers, but I’m fine,” You assured him as you stepped out of your heels. You’d hate to scuff the hardwood. “I’m sure you're just as impatient as me to begin.”

“Steve. And yeah, I suppose. I don’t really do much more than pressers and usually, I don’t do much talking.” He confessed. “Just through here,” He pointed to the front room. 

You nodded and stepped through. He directed you to the pair of armchairs before the artificial fireplace and you set your bag down as you sat. He lowered himself across from you as you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone and notebook. You swiped up and flicked your finger across the screen.

“Do you mind if I record you? It helps with editing and of course, accuracy,” You said.

He scratched his jaw and shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Great,” You hit the red dot and set the phone down on the small table with the mic facing him. 

🖋️

You were a bit surprised by how it had all unfolded, but, you supposed, you were right when you said no one was ever exactly what they seemed. Steve was nice enough as he showed you the door but you could see the agitated impatience behind his eyes. You should’ve eased him into it more. Timing was everything.

Even so, you had promised your editor a story and if you didn’t deliver after being chosen for such a coveted one, well, you would never see its likes again.

So you sat at your desk in your small but comfortable city apartment. It was nothing compared to the star-spangled hero’s walk-up but it was home. If you could work the interview the right way, it might mean an upgrade, or at least a television that didn’t flicker.

You hit play on your phone for the third time that night. Steve Rogers’ voice was etched into your brain. And that tension in his forehead, the tic in his jaw. A thinly veiled wrath unexpected of the valiant soldier-turned-saviour. You shivered and paused the recording. It was almost startling how quickly he’d turned on you, but you weren’t entirely innocent.

You stretched your fingers over the keyboard and sighed as you stared at your blinking cursor. You couldn’t just sit on this forever. You had a deadline and an extension was an impossibility, if not a death warrant for your career.

So you hit play and began to type, pausing to play back snippets as you went.

🖋️

‘It’s early afternoon in the heart of Brooklyn. Amidst the old brick buildings that line the cracked sidewalks is a townhouse unlike any other. The home of a man born there over a century ago. A living ghost that haunts the block. Most would say he is a friendly spirit.

Steve Rogers answers the door as a boy lets his baseball roll under a car and his friends lower their mitts to watch. A teen on a bike, a ring in his nose, even slows to admire the hometown hero as he smiles; a beacon of the borough. A glimmer of hope for all to think that the block is not the whole world.

He greets me like an old friend. “Hi.” The same smile seen in newsprint. He thanks me for coming and ushers me inside. This is the first time I’ve met him in person. I can’t lie; I’m intimidated. I’m just another person in debt to this great veteran.

His house isn’t what you would expect from a man as prestigious as him. No medals hanging on the wall, no vainglorious cut-outs of his image, or pictures of him shaking hands with men in suits. Only framed baseball cards along freshly laid wood-panels. It’s like any other house in Brooklyn, just newer. An ancient skeleton revived.

We sit in the front room, he offers me a drink. I’m not very thirsty. I’m more anxious to start talking. I can see he is too though his facade is hard to crack. He tells me to call him Steve as my recitations of ‘Mr. Rogers’ become almost pathetic. We begin.

Interviewer: “Great.” I hit ‘record’. “I’ll start by saying you have a nice place.”

Steve: “Thanks.” He seems to relax as he leans back in the chair which is nearly too narrow for his broad shoulders. “It took a while but I think it’s coming together.”

Interviewer: “Can’t take the boy out of Brooklyn, I guess.”

Steve: “Wouldn’t leave it for the world.” He smiles again, though he never truly looks less than amiable.

I: “Only to save it,”

S: “I do what I can.

I: “More than most; New York, Sekovia, the world. You’ve done it all. Do you ever just take a break?”

S: “I try. And sometimes I get a chance to just… be here.”

He looks around, proud of himself, of his home.

I: “Any hobbies?”

S: “You know, I used to love to draw. Nothing special, you know. But I found it calming. I actually bought a bunch of pencils and a pad but I never touched them. I’m sure they're just sitting up in my closet, neglected.” 

I listen intently, imagining this man bent over a notebook. It’s an absurd picture as my mind returns to the man in his cowl with shield in hand. The red, white, and blue bullseye is more suiting in my head than a pen.

I: “Anything else? Anything you actually do?”

S: “I like to run. Helps me get to know my neighbours, reconnect with my roots. I read… a little. I’m still not really into the whole internet thing but I try. I still get the newspaper just to read the strips and fill in the weekly crosswords.”

He confirms my suspicion. A man lost in time, but it seems he has found his place.

I: “A man for all times. And you work? I’m sure you get tired of talking about it but well, there’s been a lot of speculation about a possible retirement.”

He ‘s silent as he looks away and fidgets in his chair. He becomes the rehearsed hero at his podium. 

S: “I’d hate to fan that fire but I think it’s only natural to consider it.” 

I: “Thinking of settling down?”

S: “It’s always a thought but I’m not stupid. It’s not that simple. I’m not the type of man that gets to settle down.”

This remark might break the heart of every woman in Brooklyn and beyond but it seems to hurt him more. A grim truth for a man who many would say has the world in his hands.

I: “And if you did hang up the shield, is there anything you want to do? Anywhere you want to go?” 

S: “I’d like to try fishing. I’ve heard it’s relaxing. I love the city but it’s nice to get away now and then.”

I: “Is there anything keeping you from retiring? Besides the obvious; we all know you’re a good man and a great hero. You’ve shown commitment to the city, the world, humanity.” 

He looks to the artificial fireplace and shrugs. He’s thinking; perhaps censoring his response.

I: “Co-workers? The world is well aware of what you did for your old friend. And it has proven to be a point of contention, even after the pardon.”

He clears his throat and he’s no longer smiling.

S: “Bucky is an old friend and a commendable soldier. He does his job well. I wouldn’t take anything back. He has more than earned his place.”

I: “So, if you retired, you believe that he would retain his place among the team?”

He’s frowning now. He adjusts his posture so that he seems even bigger than before. A formidable opponent, if not an overwhelming one. 

S: “He is not there because of me. He’s there because of himself. Because he is an asset to the world.”

His blue eyes are darker now. No longer the crystalline waves shining in the sun but those foreboding tides which crash together beneath the moonless sky. My ship has gone awry, carried by an errant wind.

I: “Well, I can’t help but point out that many wouldn’t agree. You put yourself and several of your associates on the line to save him. To bring him into your fold. To place a man who was once a national enemy beside you. I hate to say it but, frankly, even if he were pardoned on his own merit, I fail to imagine him being allowed the same access to confidential intelligence and tasked with the protection of civilian life.”

His hands are fists. I could put up a front and say I’m not nervous, but I am. I have done what I once thought impossible. I have angered Steve Rogers.

S: “He wasn’r Bucky, but he is now and he has been cleared. I’m sorry, but I thought you were here to talk about me.”

I: “Yes, I am, but the world is well aware of your friendship with Mr. Barnes and all its implications. It is hard to separate him from your life.”

S: “I agreed to talk about me.”

His tone is set in stone. I attempt to stay calm myself.

I: “We are talking about you, but we can move on. Now, even with its dissolution, there are still questions being asked about the Sokovia Accords and your opposition to it. While many can acknowledge the need for your team and their work, they can’t help but wonder at the lack of restraints placed upon it. There are regulations even for the FBI and CIA and other protective services. So why should you be exempt?”

He sniffs and stands up slowly. He retreats behind his chair and nears a table along the wall. He distracts himself with a signed baseball. I don’t have a chance to ask who scribbled along the stitches as he tosses it and finds his voice.

S: “I never disagreed with the sentiment of the Accords. As heroes, of course, we should have obligations. Our first and foremost being the protection of innocent lives. The hardest to uphold but we do it.”

He is ever the statesman but he isn’t finished and his voice gets low. Dangerous, even.

S: “At the same time, we put our own lives on the line and you come here and nag me about formalities? What is it you want? Paperwork? Reports on how I threw my shield to stop a bullet from striking an innocent bystander? How a piece of shrapnel nearly severed my tendon as I threw myself in front of a speeding vehicle?”

I: “With all due respect, I am only asking about transparency. People deserve to know more. They deserve the truth.”

S: “Is that what you’re looking for? The truth? You want to know what we don’t tell you and your readers?” 

He puts the baseball down and his hand is on his hip, disapproving. I suspect his lecture will continue. He nears the chair and grips the back of it as he narrows his eyes at me. I fear he might throw it in my direction though for now, I hope it should act as my own shield against him.

S: “About how I have to lie about how many men I lose to keep this world safe. Because I can’t scare the people. Because I have to keep on this mask of the brave hero.”

His eyes go to the ceiling. He takes a breath to calm himself. I can tell he wants to continue. That he is holding back something which has brewed within him for a very long time. It is a moment before he speaks again.

S: “We’re done here. That’s it. Turn your phone off and go.”

The interview is over. What happens next will remain off the record. I leave with a mouth full of bile. My childlike wonder has been extinguished. I came to seek out the man behind the shield and I have done just that, but he is not who I expected. 

I was ready for a humble man, a man like any of us; the same wants and desires. Still human despite his enhancements; despite his superhuman status. What I discovered was a man who’s exceptionality has nurtured a sense of entitlement. 

And we do owe him our lives, our gratitude, we owe him the world. Yet I cannot dismiss the sense that he might regret his good deeds. That to him, it has become a thankless chore. That we are the needy children and he has been burdened with our cries for help.

So we should not be surprised or upset upon his retirement, not if, but when it comes. And we cannot fault him for his departure. It has been a long-time coming.’

🖋️

You took a breath and sat back in your chair. You rubbed your cheeks as the recording began to repeat itself. You stopped it and checked the time. You’d spend your morning editing and hope you would be ready for submission by the evening.

As you hit save, you felt an odd tremor deep inside. This could be it. Your big story. Or you could be tired and entirely up your own ass. You only hoped it was the former.

🖋️

You sat across from Poppy as she read your article through the glasses which sat low on her long nose. She was just past forty and wouldn’t look it if she didn’t wear the ridiculous half-circle spectacles. She wore a shade of red which paid homage to her name and her lipstick was just as bold. Her long lashes flicked up as she lowered the pages and her blonde hair fell behind her shoulder.

“Well…” She said carefully. “It is…interesting.”

You swallowed nervously as you teetered on the edge of the acrylic seat. Her long manicured nails played with the corner of the article.

“I had initially planned to have this in the back pages. No one really cares about the Avengers anymore.” She said. “But this is… I will discuss it with our marketing team but I know a feature when I see it.”

“A feature?” Your lips parted and you sat back as you gripped the thin arms of the chair.

“Oh, yes,” She said. “Another celebrity break-up is not exactly scandalous and to be frank, I do tire of that ridiculous narrative. But this… you will be hearing from me soon.”

“Uh,” You stood awkwardly at what you were sure was a dismissal. “Thank you.”

“For what? Doing my job? Should I thank you for doing yours?” She countered.

“N-no,” You stuttered.

“Go on then. I’m certain you have other work to do.” She tapped her long nails. “You certainly will once this is ready to print.”

You nodded and left her. She was already on her phone before the door closer behind you and you looked around the blindly bright office. It would be your first feature and it was the first article which had earned you more than a passive grumble from the woman. Perhaps you hadn’t been so foolish to think you had actually done something well.

[merlinbingo]

Clearly AUgust was a theme that spoke to you all, because of the 64 fills last month almost a third claimed the bonus badge! It’s the most fills there’s been in a month since February, and almost double the number of bonus badges I usually send out, and I am just so incredibly pleased with the response to this little event.

I really don’t have words to convey just how wonderful I think you all are, so instead I shall just share all the glorious fills created this month! As always, they’re sorted by ship and then by rating, and you should all pay attention to the warnings and practice self-care before you click on those links!

Gen

Young Arthur wanders through the valley of kings by Ice-mint Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

Close encounters by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is woken in the middle of the night. Why? To hunt a witch, of course.

Through a Solid Wall by lancelitttle (lancelot2point0) Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Lancelot tries to find Platform 9 and 3/4's. He ends up with more than he bargained for, which doesn't seem all that bad, actually.

There was only one bed by ice-mint Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

Superhero Resurrection Moodboards by zoingfandom Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

Griffin by wmolecules Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

King Cenred by ice-mint Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

The one where Henry the Guard gets a shock by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: One of the new guards ran straight into Leon in the hallway, breathless and deathly pale, as though he’d seen something distinctly terrifying. Or Leon teaches a new guard how to act in Camelot.

Elena + tumblr tags by thebookluvrr1816 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

The Hobbit by hiddlydiddly Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine meets a hobbit.

Head Jerks by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: After a head injury, Lancelot finds himself beginning to have tics

The Effects of Rain by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Elyan and Percival get drenched while on patrol, but when they return to the castle, Elyan realizes that it isn't just the cold and wet making him feel bad. Gwaine is there to look after him

Elena Fisher, Queen of Gawant by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Elena had heard the prophecy about Arthur returning when he was needed most, but she hadn't been expecting to be reborn herself, much less 1500 years after she had died. Despite the surprise of it, though, she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to explore this new and fantastic world and all the ancient ruins and handsome adventurers that came with it. Crossover with the Uncharted Video Game series

the pretty-faced, high ranking knight with the long, dark hair by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine and Lancelot get mistaken for each other, resulting in some chaos and injury

Hard Feelings by gwen-cheers-me-up Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: After being rescued from the Dark Tower, Gwen is distant, sleepless, and easily startled. Perhaps most jarring of all is that she stops saying ‘I love you.’ Gwaine never started. As Gwen struggles to fit into her old life and her old relationships while carrying these new traumas, Elyan decides that Gwaine might be just the right person to help her begin to heal.

Albion Apartments by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin recovers from a sprained ankle.

Belonging by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Arthur sets out to follow Merlin’s orders, and tries not to think. About anything, really.

Out-of-body by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Freya receives an offer.

Feel by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death, Graphic depictions of violence Summary: Merlin struggles to cope, after Camlann

Knights and romance by merlinsprat Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

Little Chick by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Merlin has nightmares about another boy, far away, who needs help.

Speculation by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine and Merlin get drunk and make bets

Deep Wounds by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur and Morgana have a long overdue discussion

Palms, Fingers, Nails, Again. by emrys-everlasting Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: In which we join Leon as he tries to remember where his sword has gone – and why his nails, his clothes, and his face are covered in drying blood and ichor.

Freya/Gwaine

What Happened In The Hot Tub by forever-rewatching-merlin Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Missing scene from the fic “High Hopes & Slippery Slopes” by Saltedkiss. Just what were Freya and Gwaine getting up to in that hot tub before Arthur stormed in and oh so rudely interrupted them? 😉

Freya/Merlin

Bastet Blanket Battle by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin is a blanket hog, Freya is cold, and the Bastet does something about it

Mordred/Morgana

Your Pain is My Pleasure by MerthurAllure Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Mordred’s mistress gives him what he deserves, which coincidentally is exactly what he wants.

Uther/Ygraine

Agravaine the Agravated by SandySins Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: The story of Agravaine and his petty villain story, trying and failing to take revenge on Uther.

Elyan/Gwaine/Percival

Show Praise With Your Body by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Spring Break means a fun time clubbing. And Gwaine always gets what he wants.

The Blacksmith, the Rogue and the Stranger by donttouchtheneednoggle Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: One chance encounter and then another leads to a change in destiny for two wayward souls and one very confused farmer...

Merlin/Gwaine/Lancelot

Who's First by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin, Gwaine, and Lancelot try to sneak back into their room after a midnight escapade, but Gaius catches them and rather forcibly tends to their injuries first

Merlin/Gwaine/Arthur

I See What You See by evaelisaa Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Arthur doesn’t like his soulmate. He doesn’t like them at all. Every single time he sees flashes of what his soulmate is seeing at that moment, the person seems to be either getting naked, is already naked and/or is doing stuff to another human being Arthur couldn’t have even imagined in his wildest dreams. Well, either that, or they seem to be drinking mead, in a different tavern each time as well even.

Arthur/Elyan

Ready, Set, Win! by sam4587 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Elyan and Arthur are at Elyan’s football game.

Arthur/Gwaine

Sixty-Nine by @little-ligi Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine goes to the king's chamber to ask him a question about training, and ends up asking a very different one instead; does he want company? Does what it says on the tin! 😉

Gwaine/Percival

Lay All Your Love On Me by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Percival has found soulmate Gwaine in their new lives.

Merlin/Gwaine

Love and Pigeons by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine wants to show Merlin something. Merlin is positive he does not want to see.

how you love by miofrommars Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine's love language is acts of service and gifts. Always has been. So when a beautiful stranger gets into his car mistaking him for his uber, he can't help but drive the pretty guy to his destination

Carrot Cake by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine wakes up to an empty bed.

Ebb and Flow by forever-rewatching-merlin Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Poetry, Gwaine POV, Angst, Pining, Self Esteem Issues

Merlin/Arthur

The Modern Age by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is positive he knows what the noises are. He has been briefed by Merlin, after all.

Fireworks in our hearts by thebookluvrr1816 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

My Fire's Always With You by Dark_Angel23 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: A playlist for the prompt 'Witch Hunt'. The songs tell a story of how a witch hunter comes to Camelot, and Merlin is captured and burnt on the pyre. Being immortal, he survives and later leaves Camelot. These songs try to portray his feelings and state of being, and well as Arthur's.

Moving Forward by Mischel Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: It has been a year since Arthur found out about Merlin's magic, and today, he finally forgives him.

A Sofa by the Sea by RavenGirl42 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: “I hate that stick. I don’t want to use it,” Arthur pouted. “You’re adorable when you sulk, Arthur Pendragon. But if you use it, your new hip will heal more quickly and then you’ll be able to stop using it sooner. So just do as you’re told, for once.” “I feel so old. I can’t believe I had to have a hip replacement.” “I hate to be the one to tell you, but you’re in your seventies. You are old." Merlin and Arthur are an old married couple who've retired to the seaside.

Agravaine + merthur by thebookluvrr1816 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

me and you [against the world] by OnceFutureEmrys Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: He wanted to wake up to Merlin by his side every day. He wanted to hold him, he wanted to smell vanilla every morning. And when he looked at him—groggy, with his hair stuck in many directions, his clothes ruffled and him with a tired smile—he never wanted to leave those moments. And it wasn't just that, he never wanted to leave ever. He wanted to spend all his time with Merlin, he wanted to have picnic dates that turned into food fights and movie marathons that turned into make-out sessions and all their moments in between. He wanted to forever hold onto these inside jokes and their laughs and their touches and their smiles and their looks; he wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever because Arthur never wanted to leave this. He didn't know what he would do without this. OR: Arthur has been in many relationships before, but this one felt different. Right. Especially when he realizes he's madly in love with him.

Please, Oh Please, This Role Is Suffocating by @the-ballad-of-deancas Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Merlin wants to scream his name at the skies, fold him into his arms and crush him to his chest but as he steps toward his destiny, the world falls away, inconsequential and unimportant until the only thing that remains is the fact that Arthur is here. He is finally, irrevocably real and he is here. OR: Where Arthur returns and a lot has changed since he left but the one thing that hasn't, is their feelings toward each other. There are secrets left to uncover and identities left to discover even as a dangerous opponent looms over them. Will they manage it all; will they save themselves and Albion in time?

Exquisite by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is told categorically not to talk to the ambrosius' when they visit. This would be fine, if he could follow simple instructions.

The Dragon's Call by tehfanglyfish Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: “I need a dragon. Your biggest one.” “I’m sorry?” It had been a slow day at Ealdor Exotic Veterinary Clinic and Animal Rescue and Merlin Emrys wasn’t quite prepared for the suit-clad stranger who’d just thrown open the door and marched in, making demands without even an attempt at a greeting.

i’ve always dreamed of flying (and being with you) by ambrosius Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: When Merlin vanishes after exposing his magic, Arthur feels as if his whole world has been upended and he's never felt more alone. But when a little bird starts showing up everywhere he goes, Arthur thinks that maybe there is still some hope after all.

Something Wicked This Way Comes by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: It's Merlin, not Gwen, who Morgana takes to the Tower full of mandrakes.

I Won't Break Your Heart, If You Can Break My Spell by Mischel Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin is tired of waiting around for Arthur to finally accept the fact that Merlin is in love with him and do something about it. So, he takes matters into his own hands . . . and curses himself with a spell that can only be broken by a true love's kiss.

let it break ('cause you and I remain the same) by queerofthedagger Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: The magic was revealed, the shouting and explanations were done, and yet there remains one secret, one confession to be made. They always were easiest to declare in the light of a fire and only the forest bearing witness.

Gonna Rip it Off (Leave it Alone) by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: There is nothing Arthur hated more than Will's smug face when the bastard has beat them in a game.

I Can See The Stars In The Freckles On His Face by Dark_Angel23 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is hungry. Merlin is late.

Couch Heaven by Mischel Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin and Arthur sit on a couch under one blanket, watching videos of them that Merlin had recorded on his phone. One of them is Arthur trying to eat ice cream for the first time in a really embarrassing way, but the other one is, to Arthur's surprise, actually really nice.

Across The Bar by TheCourtSorcerer (/ tcs-main) Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin & Arthur, old childhood friends, meet at a bar in the states after seven years of not seeing one another.

where the road takes us by TheCourtSorcerer Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin gets in a fight at school, and Hunith has to drive him to A&E. Arthur feels guilty.

a very special thing by TheCourtSorcerer Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Looking for a resting place for the evening, on his way home to Camelot, Arthur stumbles across a handsome selkie named Merlin.

hold me like the night sky holds the moon by TheCourtSorcerer Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Sometimes, it's overwhelming. Never a chance to be simply him, always a prince, always an heir, never a man, never a son. Sometimes, he just needs a break. A pause in time. Sometimes, he just needs to be held.

Wet N Wild by MerthurAllure Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Officer Emrys takes Arthur back to his flat where they continue their fun.

A Brooding Pendragon by MerthurAllure Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: Rape/non-con Summary: In order for a dragon egg to grow and hatch, it needs to be incubated within someone with Pendragon blood.

That's How We Roll by @little-ligi Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: It's games night, and that means a night of sexual tension and edging as they each try to be the last one standing. Very sexually charged games and multiple pairings. Friends with group benefits... if you know what I mean... 😉

Steampunk AU – Reclist for Merlin Bingo by Clea2011 Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Rec list for Steampunk AU square and August bonus badge

[hex6rcist]

The original ask for this was accidentally deleted so here it is in a post. The ask was along the lines of: Jin meeting reader when they start a conversation with him out of the blue. They go from friend, to FWB, to a relationship. Can be NSFW. I believe the asker was @slobbynblobby​ 

This ended up way longer than I had thought because I went with a weird format that isn’t really a fic but also isn’t really headcanons? So I hope that’s cool. Hope you enjoy. <3 

TW: Alcohol, nsfw, drunk sex 

WC: 4,200+

Jin x [F!] Reader Developing Relationship

First Meeting

Jin isn’t one to strike up a conversation with strangers in public. If he could help it he would actually avoid speaking in public at all. His tic makes it particularly difficult for him to communicate with anyone who doesn’t know him well enough and can often times embarrass him in public, so he’d rather just keep his mouth shut. 

However he won’t be outright cold to anyone out and about who tries to talk to him. He’ll do his best to give lost strangers directions, he’ll excuse himself if he bumps someone, he’ll thank the person at the checkout counter. He’s not a dick. If anything he can just come off as curt as he tries to keep his ticing to an unoffensive minimum. 

When you sit next to him on the late night train he gives a polite bob of his head but that’s about it. It was never a problem for him if he was brusque in a public setting because no one expected much more. But you sat for a while, fiddling with the end of your shirt and letting your eyes wander around the train. Being late it wasn’t as packed as usual but everyone was still seated close together. Idly you two bump knees. 

Jin draws his knees in closer, eyes shifting over to see if he’d bothered you. He was surprised when you were looking right back at him. Your nose twitched in a way that Jin thought was cute but could have possibly been an indication of disgust. His eyes quickly shifted away and he mumbled a short, “Sorry.” 

You give a small smirk. “Never apologize mister, it’s a sign of weakness.” He’s a little taken aback by the response, unsure of what to say to that. “I take it you’ve never heard of John Wayne huh?” He simply shook his head no and your nose gave another one of those cute twitches. “He’s an American actor form the 1940s. He was in a bunch of these cool western films, ya know the ones about cowboys? And he always plays these tough guys who say cool shit like, ‘Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.’” You’d struck your best tough guy face and put on a drawl, making Jin chuckle lightly. A little smile plays on your face too. You like his laugh and wanna hear more.    

You chat for so long Jin is actually surprised when the train comes to a halt and you start to grab your things. “Sorry, my stop. It was nice talking to you. Maybe I’ll see you again.” All he can get out is a pretty lame, “Oh, bye.” before you’re gone. In the silence you left him in he’s not sure how to feel. One part of him is glad that he’d gotten through a pretty normal conversation with a perfect stranger on the train. He felt normal which was refreshing. But another part of him wanted to kick himself for not getting your number or at least your name. 

Second Meeting

Jin wouldn’t want to outright admit that he was looking for you but he would say he ended up on that particular train more often than he would have before. The week passes by without a sighting and he comes close to giving up, he’s really starting to feel a little creepy. But that Friday night just before the train was about to depart you slide through the doors before they could close with a relieved sigh. Jin could feel his heart in his throat. Would you even remember him let alone sit by him again? Maybe you were just being polite that night. 

Sure enough when you recognize the cute blonde guy you’d chatted up just last week sitting in the same spot he’d been in before you don’t hesitate to flop down in the space next to him. “Hey there, good to see you again. I realized I didn’t introduce myself before I got off last time and felt so rude. Especially after you let me talk your ear off. I’m y/n!” Jin really couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m Jin.” “No I’m not!”  He flinched slightly at his outburst. Last time he saw you he had been doing well for a while but things tended to change fast with him. Once again Jin noticed your nose crinkle a bit but you ignored his outburst. “Jin, I like that name. It suits you.” 

Just like last time you spend the whole ride chatting. Jin doesn’t let on that he’d come to take this train every night since you met just to see you but you reveal to him that you work the late shift at a bar in Kamino Ward So you always take this train back home on the weekends. He decides that makes sense for you, the kinda girl who starts a conversation with a stranger on the train, to work at a bar. “Why do you take this train?” Obviously he doesn’t want to tell you what his business in that part of the city is so he settles on saying he also works in the area but takes the late train home because he likes to hang out at the bar after work. 

This time when you get up to leave he’s a little more ready, It’s the same stop you got off at last time. “It was nice talking again Jin! You should come by my bar some time. I’ll buy you a drink. I work tomorrow night if you’re interested.” With a little wave he watches you hop off the train. He can’t help but smile the whole way back to his shitty motel. Sure he hadn’t manned up enough to ask for your number yet, but at least now he didn’t have to feel like a stalker. 

Becoming Friends

The night after your second meeting Jin had decided to come and meet you at the bar. He was glad when he realized it was more of a small dive and not one of the clubs with a thrumming bass. This definitely suited him better. Though it was still a Saturday night and the place was kind of packed he was able to find a seat at the end of the bar. When you noticed him you couldn’t help but be excited. “You came!” You made your way to him, cutting your conversation short with another man. You being so excited to see him and the dirty look the guy shot him went to Jin’s head juuuuust a little bit if he was being honest. 

“Okay, okay let me think. I’m so good at guessing what people like to drink so don’t tell me okay!” He gives a short nod, “Alright impress me.” You stand back and act like you’re framing him up in a camera shot while he makes goofy poses. “Mhm, yeah, that’s good, yup. Okay! I got it!” You throw open one of the coolers and pull out the cheapest beer you got before cracking it open and placing it in front of him. “Oh, you are good.” “Whaddaya think I’m cheap?” You giggle and shrug, “Not cheap, just not one for frills, beer is beer.” This time when your nose wrinkles he realized it for what it was, a little tic of your own.

Jin ends up at the bar with you every weekend and every time he comes you’re just as excited as the first. What had started off as a chance meeting on the train turned into a friendship. He loved to watch you work, effortlessly juggling social situations in a way he couldn’t imagine doing. You really were a people person and he just really liked that about you. 

Though his favorite part of the weekend really had to be when the two of you walked to the train together. It was strangely intimate to share such a casual routine with you. And he was glad he could. He really didn’t like the thought of you making the walk to the train on your own that late at night in that part of the city. He knew you could take care of yourself, he’d seen you break up plenty of bar altercations, but he also knew what kind of threats stalked these streets and with your friendly nature he worries someone might lure you in. 

The biggest thing Jin noticed once he spent more time with you is just how damn friendly you could be. You were downright kind in a way he didn’t often see. You were the kind of girl who’d give a bum your last dollar, your last cigarette, and ask about their day. It always took him aback that in a world like this someone as sweet as you could exist. 

FWB

Jin knew he was attracted to you. He knew as soon as he met you. Though if he was being more honest he’d say it wasn’t as much an attraction as it was a crush. You were funny, smart, beautiful, sweet, the whole package really. and he knows he’s not the only one interested. Plenty of other men at the bar vied for your attention, leaving large tips and their phone numbers or leaning over the bar just to get closer to you. It made him glad you never really drank at work. He didn’t want anyone to try and take advantage. 

That’s why he was shocked to see you downing shots with one of your other regulars when he entered the bar one Sunday night. You frantically gesture for him to come join you and the small group of regulars at that end of the bar, opposite where he’d normally sit. He approached shyly. He knew some faces and some names but never chose to interact much with other customers, much preferring your company. But you happily introduced him to the group before revealing it was one of the patron’s birthdays. Later you two would remember this as the night that Jin met party y/n.

Needless to say you all got pretty trashed, buying the birthday boy, Jin, and yourself shots. By the end of the night you had a hard enough time closing up the bar on your own Jin jumped in to help put up chairs and mop while you focused heavily on counting the till and pulling the money you spent past your comp tab out of your tips. 

It really wasn’t until you two had gotten on the train that you both realized how drunk you were. You head lolled onto his shoulder as you two tried to quell fits of giggles, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. When your stop rolled around you both agreed it’d be safest if Jin walked you home. 

At first it didn’t really hit you but the closer you got to home the more you started to think. Should you invite him in? You looked at Jin from the corner of you eye. He wasn’t the only one with a crush. You knew you wanted to invite him in and you were just drunk enough to take the leap. But then how clean was your apartment right now? Did you leave you underwear from this morning on the floor? Is your makeup all over the bathroom counter? All these thoughts abandoned ship however when you reached your door. Jin shifted from foot to foot awkwardly while you fumbled with your keys. Finally you got them in the lock and opened the door. Moment of truth. “You wanna come in?” 

You two were barely through the door when your lips found his. Neither of you was sure who’d leaned in first and neither of you cared. In an instant your hands were all over each other. Groping, caressing, feeling it seemed neither of you could get enough. Your nails raked through his hair and his strong hands had found their way under the hem of your shirt to grab your waist. The feeling of his hands on your bare skin is all it took to finally get the two of you out of the entryway and stumbling towards your room. 

You both laughed lightly as you guided him by the hand through your dark apartment, tripping over nothing and bumping into walls and each other. When you two finally reach your room he’s pleasantly surprised by the way you push him down onto the bed and climb on top of him. He’s almost thankful for his inebriated state and the confidence it gave him. While your lips pressed to his neck, kissing and nipping, his hands found their way to your ass, giving a firm squeeze. 

Both you and Jin eagerly shucked off each other’s clothing. Once you were naked and laying below Jin you couldn’t help but feel just a little shy, cheeks tinting pink. He let his hands glide along the length of your body before they found your hips and squeezed. “You’re so beautiful.” “I’m gonna fuck you so good.” Your lower lip caught between your teeth as Jin lowered his head to start kissing down your stomach, the tickle of his scruff making you giggle. 

Jin settled himself between your legs, his broad shoulders keeping them spread for him. Just before his lips found the spot where you wanted them most he took a detour to nip playfully at your inner thigh. You gave a little yelp your toes curling as you giggled again. “Jin! Don’t tease me.” Not wanting to leave a pretty girl waiting he finally let his tongue lave up the length of your wet cunt, just to get a taste of you. His tongue found it’s way to your clit, circling around the sensitive bud in a way that made you moan. Your head fell back onto your pillow as your thighs squeezed to trap Jin’s head. Not that he minded. His large calloused fingers probed shyly at your entrance, feeling how wet you are from his treatment. He pulled back just long enough to press his fingers to your mouth. You part plush lips to take his fingers in and suck on them. He moaned, the feeling sending a shock though his system. He loved how you looked right then, eyes glazed with lust and his fingers in your mouth. He slowly thrust them in and out, letting you get them nice and prepped before he couldn’t wait any more. “Good girl.” “You’re such a slut.” Eagerly Jin returned to his spot between your thighs. He gave himself the privilege of watching one of his fingers enter your tight pussy. Even though it was only his fingers he couldn’t stop the satisfied sigh that fell form his lips before he went back to your clit. 

Jin made sure you were well and satisfied before finally standing and pulling you to the edge of the bed. He gave his achingly hard dick a few stroked before slowly pushing it inside you. “Oh fuck!” The way your thighs quivered and your voice hitched was enough to drive him crazy. He wanted nothing more than to pound into you but he held it together. He wanted you to enjoy it as much as him. He locked eyes with you and let his hands cup your face. He thrust slow and hard, groaning softly. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” “I wanna make you scream for me.” Jin’s cock stretched you so good you could only reply in small whimpers and moans. Your hand found the back of Jin’s head pulling him so close your foreheads touch before you lock lips in a heated kiss. 

When you finally adjust your legs wrap tightly around his hips and you press yourself farther into him. Jin gladly takes the cue and his hips begin to move at a brutal pace. The first hard thrust arches your back and rips a loud moan from you. He sits up, one hand pinning your hips to the bed and the other rubbing unrelenting circles on your clit. You’ve only just started and you can already feel an intense orgasm rippling through your body, making your legs tremble. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him only spurred Jin on further. 

The next morning Jin’s head was pounding. He squinted against the harsh light of the sun and buried his face into your chest. ‘... Wait...’ He shot up with a small gasp before looking around the room. It took him a moment to remember exactly what happened last night but the pieces slowly clicked together. He looked down at your still naked form, snoring softly next to him. He slowly lowered himself back down, laying on his side. He brushed your hair out of your face and took in your sleeping face. 

After that night you two had an admittedly awkward morning. You made coffee and some greasy breakfast food to quell your monster hangovers but you couldn’t ignore what had happened the night before. You also couldn’t ignore the lingering touches and eye contact between you two. Finally after eating and getting a few cups of coffee down Jin trapped you between his body and the kitchen counter. His fingers raked through your hair before cupping your cheek. Any resolve you had to not do this again was quickly replaced by need as you pull Jin in for a deep kiss. 

It would go on like this for the next 3 months. Stumbling back to your apartment on drunken nights, stealing kisses in alleyways, playful pinches and squeezes. You two had both tried to stop what was happening but you just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other after that first night. You’d both agreed to enjoy whatever this casual sexual relationship was for now. You were having fun and there was no reason to read too much into it. 

Relationship

“Hey Jin you going to see your girlfriend? When do we get to meet her?” Toga’s questions threw him through a loop. ‘Girlfriend.’ The word made him nervous but excited. And well at this point he really wouldn’t say that you weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you was really sure when it happened, but it just dawned on you both one day that things had just gotten more serious. Nights of stumbling back to your apartment to hook up turned slowly into walking home hand in hand to watch a movie on the couch. You now cooked more meals together instead of just breakfast. Hot, passionate kisses turned to slow, sweet smooches. In the end though neither of you minded all that much. It was nice. Comfortable. “Yeah I am.” “You’ll never meet her!” 

That night when Jin met you at the bar he found it hard to keep his heartbeat steady. That word just wouldn’t leave his mind, ‘girlfriend.’ You crack open a beer and place it in front of him before leaning over the bar to press a chaste kiss to his lips. It had become more common for you to greet him with little kisses and sweet hugs. That had to mean you felt the same right? You were both on the same page? 

At the end of the night it took all of Jin’s courage. But once the bar was closed down and you two was sharing one last beer in the dim light he decided now was the best time. “Y/n, you know how I feel about you right?” Your nose crinkled in the way he loved and your cheeks flushed. “I think I have a pretty good idea...” Jin nodded, “Good because I want us to be on the same page. I want you to be my girlfriend.” God that word made your heart flutter. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in for a sweet kiss. “Mmh, I like the sound of that.” 

Dating Jin most days was like a dream. He was handsome, funny, and loving. He wanted nothing more than to make you happy and you wanted to do the same for him. In a lot of ways he surprised you. A healthy and loving relationship wasn’t an easy find these days. That being said you knew Jin had his problems, you did too. No one was perfect. You two had a long discussion about what exactly to do when Jin had one of his episodes and that’s when he showed you his mask. If he was going to be with you he wanted to be honest. Finding out about the League was a hard pill to swallow but one you were willing to take. You had your own issues with the way this superhuman society was canted and you could understand why Jin did what he did. But it made you worry for him, not just for his physical safety but his emotional wellbeing too.

Jin had decided that the best way to make you feel better about the situation would be to introduce you to the league. They had really become his family and so had you. He figured if you could see firsthand what kind of support he had it’d put you at ease. So that’s how you ended up hanging out in an abandoned bar with some of Japan’s most wanted criminals. It was a little uncomfortable at first but the setting was familiar to you. Your attitude quickly put everyone at ease, and seeing Jin so happy definitely helped. 

Toga was probably the quickest to take to you. She was a romantic after all and she really felt that you and Jin were a perfect match. And you were so cute too! A little fact that didn’t escape Dabi’s attention. He made sure to give Jin a good clap on the back for that though he otherwise seemed uninterested in you. The others regarded you politely but with apprehension. Jin could be a little too trusting for a villain sometimes. Though no one would deny that you were a very cute couple, other than a disgruntled Shigaraki who’d only really agreed to this so Toga would stop asking. 

 After the first meeting Jin’s life fell into a kind of weird harmony. He moved out of his shitty motel and into your small apartment. He liked not hiding anything from you and feeling completely accepted for who he was. He knew his life would never be normal or peaceful but this was fulfilling, and that’s all a guy like him could ever ask for.  

[pikkington]

Finally getting around to posting some of my drafts.  This one is kinda old and has some wrong info, but I really don’t feel like going back and editing it.

That post about self-indulgent stuff inspired me, let’s go.

So apparently anything set in alternate universe futures immediately activates the ‘it need robots’ part of my brain, even if it’s ‘20 minutes into the future’ dystopian futures that still use CRT televisions.  Look, if they can have AI, they can have robots.

So in this AU/thought exercise, Network 23 commissions a CPU-less robot so Max can interact with stars on TV in real time, rather than just with the broadcast, and it’s designed so he can upload his AI into it at will.  Problems arise as he wants it to look like himself, and since most of his body image are holdovers from Edison...Network 23 inadvertently commissions a 6′3 robot that, despite being composed of lightweight materials, weighs about 400 pounds.  It takes four people to move the thing close enough to a computer, and it’s all dumped on Edison’s team (technically it was dumped on Bryce but the poor boy couldn’t even get it out of the elevator).

Uploading goes a lot smoother, but a few quirks carry over, namely his audio idiosyncrasies.  Bryce is baffled because the stutter and repetition should be caused by a lack of dedicated processing power on the computer (and the robot’s AI has a dedicated process specifically for speech), but Max doesn’t really care.  Skipping animations don’t translate into physical tics, so it’s unclear if Max deliberately glitches his speech or it is just inherently something he does.

An outside observer who didn’t know he’s an AI-now-robot would just think he’s got a bad stutter and echolalia.

Another problem is that because Max is rendered shoulders-up and is typically always at eye-level, being in a TV, he has no idea how tall he actually is, so of course he’s absolutely thrown the moment he stands up.  Edison’s not super thrilled either because he’s used to being the tallest person in the room, and all of a sudden there’s someone who’s not only his same height, but meets his eyeline dead-on and does not break eye contact.

So of course they joke about how he’s going to borrow Edison’s clothes and vice versa, but Max tries on leather once and decides never to wear it again because it’s too rough for him.  He prefers silks and other smooth materials.  And of course, synthetics.

Oh and the first time he runs out of power is great, he effectively faceplants into Edison’s couch and spends the night there.  He wakes up groggy and miserable and loathing that no one told him sleep is a new requirement because he has a self-charging battery now, his back hurts from flopping over like that for eight hours, and he didn’t get to dream on top of it, so it’s just offline standby that comes without warning.  It did come with a warning, Max just ignored it.

Bryce is in charge of repair, because the skin is synthetic and resembles a human’s, and therefore tears like one, and Max doesn’t one hundred percent understand that he talks with his hands and since they are actually there now he can bang them against stuff.  He didn’t really care until he tore some tubing underneath and started gushing hydraulic fluid.  Bryce frets over him like a concerned mother, since his creation now has an actual body and is even more human than he was before.  Also imagine a shrimpy, skinny fifteen-year-old fussing over a 6′3 giant trying desperately not to scream because pain is worse than he remembers it holy CRAP as the only person who knows how to fix him flash-heats what’s essentially a vein shut because the tape didn’t work.  On the other hand Bryce also chants “chug chug chug!” when Max has to refuel since he did lose a ton of fluid, and that was a scene Theora never thought she’d ever see.

As far as a living situation, the executives are more than content to let Max charge every night in a closet somewhere in the building, but two events change this:

1.Max knows the ins and outs of the whole network, so he knows which floors are occupied when, who’s accessing the network where, AND he knows the admin passwords, so it’s incredibly easy for him to, say, run a never-ending loop of “What’s New Pussycat” with a “It’s Not Unusual” thrown in for good measure starting at 11 AM the next day over the intercoms.  The audio’s so loud that it can be heard during the local news.  Imagine trying to report with Tom Jones being heard in the background.  The network doesn’t have the music rights to his library.  They can’t prove it’s him, he’s never used a computer in his life.

2.He sneaks out to check out the city, since his view has always been restricted to interior rooms.  He makes it out to the Fringes before he’s stabbed in a mugging gone wrong (the mugger didn’t believe he didn’t have a wallet, he was wearing a suit, for goodness sake), and while he was okay, he was also close to a million dollars, so someone needs to supervise him.

That someone is Edison, because Murray has a wife and kids, Bryce’s is network-owned and too small for the both of them, and Theora doesn’t feel very comfortable with a male roommate.  I have more, but perhaps for another post.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #345

“this is the year where hope fails you  /  the test subjects run the experiment  /  and the bastards you know, is the hero you hate”

Do you have any scars from burns? No. Have you ever built a snowman? Yes. Growing up, Dad would always help my sisters and I make them. Good memories. How about a sand castle? Yeah, but not any impressive ones at all. Just the ones where you fill a pail with sand and flip it over. Have you ever used crutches? Tried when I tore a ligament in my foot, but the pair we had were too tall for me to use them comfortably at all, so I never really "used" them. Have you ever been in a tree house? No. Would you ever move to China? No. Did you ever go to daycare as a kid? I went to one for literally a day because Mom was disgusted with how I was treated. I accidentally wandered into the wrong room or something and one of the guardians slapped my hand when she scolded me, and I think I sobbed the rest of the day, but partially because I had AWFUL separation anxiety from my mom. Afterwards, Mom just had people she knew babysit my sisters and me. Who’s one of the most talented people you know? What are they talented at? As for people who are still in my life/I still consider to "know," I'm unsure, but only because there are so many talented people in my life. One of my older sisters is a fantastic cake decorator and artist in general, and my little sister is truly skilled with working with children; she's a kid magnet. Sara is really good at animation, and I wish she'd do it more! Do you usually pay with cash, debit card, or credit card? Cash. I don't have a credit or debit card. Are you the type of person who can make friends with just about anyone? Yeah, but I have my limits. I'm very open-minded and can befriend people with a wide range of beliefs and personalities, but I know where to draw the line. There comes a point where giving your friendship to someone is like passively supporting their ways, and I don't want to do that if those are overwhelmingly negative and/or hateful. Have you ever experienced a medical emergency? Well yeah, I overdosed on cold medicine. I was surprisingly okay, but I assume it's because I was taken to the hospital fast enough for fluids? Idk. What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? Ummm no clue. Are you muscular? Uh, no. When you go to a restaurant, do you prefer to sit at a booth or a table? Booth. What’s something you think everyone should do/experience at least once in their life? Love. Has your car ever been broken into? I don't have a car, but neither of my parents' has been. Have you ever recorded yourself doing a cover of a song? No. Do you watch television shows more in the dark or the day time? I just don't watch TV. Are there any movies out there that basically make you want to puke? None that I've seen, no. But I won't watch The Human Centipede for this exact reason, as I KNOW it would make me hurl. Any secrets you’d never tell anyone? No matter how close they are to you? Yes. Do you consider yourself a promiscuous person? Not even slightly. Do you know anyone who has AIDS? What about yourself? I don't know anyone with it, no, and I don't have it either. Has anyone ever mistaken you to be a member of the opposite sex? No. What’s your favorite hair color on the opposite sex that you love? I like colored hair, but if we're talking natural colors, then black. Have you ever had a child before? If so, what’s his/her name? Nope, never gonna have one. Which baby animal is your favorite? Meerkats for sure. I also love kittens. Do you like jam on your toast and biscuits? Yeah. Are there any plants in your home? No. What food does honey go best with? *shrug* Have you ever carved a pumpkin? Yeah. Have you ever reread a book? I read Because of Winn-Dixie twice, and I've read Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari countless times, although after the first read, I skipped over Clutton-Brock's massive tangents that had nothing to do with meerkats. They really took away from the book, imo. Would you ever like to own a chandelier? Sure, like above the dinner table. It's not a big deal for me, though. What scent is the last body wash you used? Oh my god, it's this cinnamon bun scent that I got for I think my b-day, and I LOVE it. It's going to suck when it's gone. Do you have any religious symbols in your home? Probably somewhere, I just don't pay attention. What religion do you identify with, if any? None. Do you enjoy flavored coffee? If so, which flavor is your favorite? I don't like coffee at all. Do you know someone who has asthma? Yeah, my mom. What is the most controversial thing you’ve done? Come out as bi, I guess. Other than interviews, do you ever “dress to impress?" No. Are you currently listening to music? Yeah: "The Man Who Made a Monster" by Dance With the Dead. When was the last time you got really nervous? I should NOT be blanking on this, but I sure am. I don't think I've been REALLY nervous in a while, but certainly nervous like... always. What was the first thing you ate today? I had a bagel. Have you ever had one of those elementary-school boy/girlfriends? No; I didn't have my first boyfriend 'til the 7th grade. Name something random in your car: I don't have my own car. What do you want to tell someone who has died (and who is it, if anything)? I wish I could tell Steve Irwin thank you and that he truly did change the world. I think a lot about just how unspeakably proud he would be of his children and how madly in love he'd be with Bindi's newborn. That family is the definition of wholesome, and I desperately wish Steve was still around. Have you ever stolen from a friend or family member? Wow, no. Would/did you cheat on someone for revenge? Or if they wouldn’t find out? No, that's incredibly childish. If you got pregnant right now, would you keep the baby? The only way I could get pregnant right now was if I was, God fucking forbid, raped. I don't think I'd be able to keep it; it would scar me for life, but at the same time, even though I'm pro-choice, I don't know if I could go through with an abortion without feeling like shit and forever thinking "well you could've just given it up for adoption." I don't like thinking about this topic. Any history with eating disorders (or tendencies)? No, thankfully. I've had bulimic thoughts before, but I've never acted on them. Does your family have a secret? No. If single, would you knowingly be who someone cheats on someone else with? Nooope. Guilt would eat me alive. Have you ever contemplated physically hurting yourself or another? I have hurt myself, but never other people. Choose one living person you’d like to meet. I won't have lived a full life w/o meeting Mark at least once laksdj;flakwjer. Who is someone you know would take a bullet for you? My mom would without a millisecond's hesitation. I'm sure Dad would, too. The next time you are on an airplane, where will you be traveling to? Most likely Illinois to visit Sara again. Where is your dad from? Ohio. Aside from your own, whose house did you last set foot into? My older sister's. What is something that makes you very squeamish? Vomit is #1. Do you even use an alarm clock, or do you just use your phone? I use my phone. Have you ever moved to a different state? No. Lived in NC my whole life. Can you do long division in your head? I can't do math in my head period. Do you have a wide imagination? Oh yes. Would you mind living on a farm? I wouldn't want to. Farms take way too much maintenance. Do you enjoy watching horror films? Oh yeah. Have you ever been to Niagara Falls? No, but I'd love to. Who are you in love with? Nobody. When is the last time you took a picture? I took a picture of Venus like a week ago when I had her out of her terrarium and she was just coiled between my arm and the laptop, totally chillin' out. I was IN a picture just a couple days ago, because my eldest sister came over to visit with her husband. It was great. Do you wash your own car or make the car wash do it? I don't have a car. Are you a fan of parties? Not big ones, no. I'd enjoy chilling out with a few people I'm friends with/know, just chatting and hanging out. Next trip you’re going to take? I don't know. My sister Misty's wedding is coming up soon, but we doubt we'll be able to go because of 1.) Mom's car would never make the drive, and 2.) Covid, and Mom's immunocompromised. It sucks, but she's being understanding about it. Were you in honor roll in school? Yeah. If you could know one thing about the future, what would it be? If I'll ever be happy with my life. What’s your favorite lunch meat? Ham. Do you drink your soda from a straw? I don't like to, no, because I drink faster via a straw, and I like to drag my soda out throughout the day so I don't go through more than I should. Do you like hot sauce? Yesssssss. Do you like Ellen Degeneres? Sure, she seems like a great person. Who do you think is the cutest celebrity? UMMMMMM like have you ever seen Mark Fischbach laugh?????? Did you ever play softball? For quite a long time as a kid, yeah. Would you like to live to be 110 years old? No, that sounds like torture. I don't want to live to where I'm essentially a walking (if even) corpse. No energy, no strength... no thanks. Do you like getting your picture taken? NO. Ever seen a tornado? Thank fuck no. When you were little, did you do gymnastics? No. Do you know anyone who is pregnant? I know a number of people who are. Two are due very soon. Do you like being the X or the O when you play tic-tac-toe? I like being the X. Have you ever tried crowd surfing? No. Do you like the movie Bambi? If so, who is your favorite on there? I've actually somehow never seen it, though I would like to. Do you like onion rings? No. Are you more afraid of going to the doctor or dentist? I'm not really afraid of either, but I dislike going to the doctor more. Have you ever been to an animal shelter? Yeah. Have you ever bought yourself or someone else lingerie? No. Have you ever had a serious issue involving your eyes? Nothing more than needing glasses. When you were a teenager, did your parents set rules about dating? Not really, besides the obvious age gap stuff. I was allowed to follow my heart with who I was interested in, really. Have you ever lived with a person who you tried to avoid at all costs? There were times like this with Dad when my parents were still together and he was in a bad mood, especially if he was drinking. Have you ever committed a crime that directly harmed another person? No. What is your worst childhood memory? There was this very weird three day period where I could've sworn up and down I was constantly on the verge of puking. On the third night, Mom finally took me to the hospital, but they couldn't find anything wrong. Oddly enough, I felt better the next morning... The whole situation was fucking awful for someone who was and still is terrified of vomiting. Do you remember where you first drove to after getting your license? I don't have my license. What did you get into trouble for the most when you were a kid? Being on the computer too much. What is your favourite game show to watch? Family Feud with Steve Harvey. When’s the last time had to cover a coworker’s shift? Never. Is there a word you have an emotional connection to? "Petrichor." How about a sound? Any emotional connection to a sound? LOTS of songs. Where is your favourite place to get fries? Bojangle's. Their seasoning is *chef's kiss* Do you always have a stock of alcohol in your house? No. Have you ever fainted? Yes. Do you get out of bed on the left side or right side? Left. Do you fall asleep with your mouth open or closed? It embarrasses me for some reason, but usually open, because I have a hard time breathing through my nose when I lie down for some reason? I don't take allergy medicine though when I'm really supposed to, so that might explain it... Is there a book you keep telling yourself you’ll read but still haven’t? I have Margaret Atwood's The Testaments that I want to read, but Wings of Fire has taken precedent, so I really don't know if I'll get to it. It would also be nice to catch up with Erin Hunter's Warriors, but that I know I won't do. Did your family ever own a vacation home? No. Have you ever opened a wine bottle? Nope. Have you been inside of a police station? No. What would you never change about yourself? I mean, there's a number of things. I would never allow myself to lose my empathy and compassion for others, for one. I'll never grow a head too big for my body. Do you pretty much need a car to get around where you live? Yeah. Public transport isn't a big thing here, especially outside the cities, and living in the South, places are pretty spread out/not within reasonable walking distance. Have you been to Australia? No, and I'm honestly too scared to go, even though I think it would be extremely cool. All the venomous animals just frighten me, and I find huntsman spiders to be TERRIFYING, regardless of how harmless they are. Do you mind drinking room-temperature water? UGH, I absolutely do mind. I HAVE to drink cold water. If it's even slightly on the warm side, it makes me want to gag.

[shireness-says]

Another Page

Summary: Belle doesn’t go looking for love, but that doesn’t stop love from finding her. A 5B Divergence ‘verse snippet. Rated G. ~3.7K. Also on AO3. 

~~~~~

A/N: I’m back! Remember when I threatened to pair Belle up with someone plucked from literature? This is that fic. I just really want her to get a happy ending, okay? 

Super thanks to @snidgetsafan for helping me come up with this and plot it, and then beta-ing last minute. Seriously, she’s the best. 

Tagging the interested parties/those I’ve been whining to: @thejollyroger-writer, @spartanguard, @phiralovesloki, @profdanglaisstuff, @optomisticgirl, @ohmightydevviepuu, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @scientificapricot, @aerica13, @welllpthisishappening, @kmomof4, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes, @teamhook, @winterbaby89, @katie-dub. I’ve probably missed folks, but I don’t even remember my own tag list anymore. 

Enjoy - and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

The unfortunate truth is that it was probably always going to come to this - Rumple waging war on Storybrooke. Today, Belle and her unborn son are just an excuse.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel guilty that other people have been dragged into it.

She barely even knows the man who has been asked to guard her inside the library as David and Robin hold down the proverbial fort outside and Killian, Emma, and Regina face Rumple elsewhere. Well, at least she barely knows him personally; his literary reputation, small as it is, has preceded him. 

Colonel James Fitzwilliam, commonly called Fitz. Young, courteous, and handsome (or so she’d say if she were looking, and didn’t have a million other concerns on her mind). She knows he arrived with the rest of the inhabitants of the Land of Untold Stories almost 2 months ago now, doing his best to keep all his compatriots organized and calm amongst the chaos of their arrival (Rumple’s doing, of course, and Belle should have seen it earlier as the distraction tactic it had been). All he’d offered as his reason for stranding himself in the Land of Untold Stories was a desire to escape all the expectations his family had placed upon him; Belle supposes she can understand that. Whatever the case, he seems… honorable. Level-headed. Capable of endearing himself even to Emma and David, enough for them to recruit him into their fledgling sheriff’s department and assign him to watch over Belle as her ex-husband does his best to tear the world apart outside to try and seize her back into his grasp and control. 

“I really am sorry,” Belle says softly, and not for the first time. 

“I can’t imagine why,” Fitz says mildly as he peers out the front windows. Things are blessedly quiet here for now, but that will undoubtedly change at any moment. 

“This is all my fault.”

Fitz turns back to face Belle. “Perhaps I’m mistaken - I was under the impression that the Dark One was responsible for this current…  tension, shall we say.” It’s kind of him not to say attack, even if that’s a more accurate word; she could do without that particular reminder. “Are you actually the rampaging maniac I’ve been warned about? Because if so - I must say, madam, that your rampaging needs work.”

He says it lightly, as a joke, but Belle has trouble finding the humor in it. “The maniac wouldn’t be, as you say, rampaging if it weren’t for me. He’s doing this because he thinks he can steal me back.”

“That may be so,” Fitz shrugs, “but from everything I’ve heard, he would have found another reason to strike. The only difference would have been your compromised safety, and I can’t believe that you believe you deserve that. Let alone your child.”

“But maybe if I hadn’t been so willfully blind - if I hadn’t been so quick to trust that he’d changed — ”

“There’s no use fixating on such things,” he tells her firmly. “Maybe things would have been different; maybe they wouldn’t have. But you wouldn’t have your child if things didn’t happen the way they did, and I have to believe that your son or daughter will be a bright spot to come from all of this.”

“Son.” Fitz’s brow wrinkles in confusion at Belle’s declaration, and she abruptly remembers that he’s still so new to the Land Without Magic that he doesn’t know yet of all its new technological capabilities. “There are machines now that can tell before the baby is even born. It’s a boy.”

“That’s wonderful,” he smiles. “This realm will never cease to amaze me, I’m sure of it.”

“It is wonderful.” Inside her belly, the baby moves and kicks, as if he knows they’re discussing him. 

Fitz gentles his tone for a moment. “You deserve that, Ms. French. Every bit of happiness that little boy will bring to your life. I know this is all a mess, but he came from it too, and no one blames you for a moment. You shouldn’t blame yourself either.”

Belle blinks back tears at his kindness, choosing to focus on the easiest bit of it. “You know, after all this, I think you should call me Belle.”

“Belle, then,” he smiles. “Well, Belle, I think this will all be over soon, and you’ll have so many good things ahead of you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

——— 

All things considered, it’s a very good day. 

Sure, bits of her body she didn’t know were capable of pain are sore, and no one has ever claimed that hospital beds are comfortable, but Belle has a son now. And he’s perfect. 

Her greatest fear in all of this has been the prospect of having to do it all alone, but if the last hours are any indication, that’s not something she has to worry about. The people of Storybrooke had seemed determined to collect her and her son into the fold, starting with Emma and Ruby holding her hands throughout and a parade of friends (who just might be family now) coming to check on Belle and meet little Gideon. 

(It’s a little fanciful, she knows, to name the baby after one of her favorite books, but Belle has room for a little fanciful in her life. Besides, she’s determined that her son be all the “handsome hero” that she needs.)

Of all the people she expected to drop by, however, James Fitzwilliam isn’t one of them. He looks very out of place in the hospital - this tall, solid man, who shuffles his feet as if he’s not sure how to act in this setting. 

“I’m sorry to intrude,” he hazards, but Belle waves him off with a cautious smile.

“You’re not intruding at all,” she assures him. “There’s been several visitors today. It’s rather nice, actually.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he smiles back, before thrusting a bouquet towards her. “These are for you.”

Belle thumbs at the soft yellow petals, delicately. “Daisies,” she murmurs.

“Sheriff Swan’s son seemed determined that roses would be a bad idea. These looked… cheerful.”

“They are, thank you.” Bless Henry for his advice; roses are still tainted for her, at least for the moment.

“I take it this is the little one?” Fitz asks, nodding towards the cradle at the side of her bed. Her son lies inside, happily asleep, lips making little sucking motions in slumber.

“Yeah, that’s him. Gideon.” Belle can hear the soft awe in her own voice, but finds no reason to temper it. 

Fitz bends over the cradle for a closer look. “He’s a handsome lad,” he decrees with a wide smile. “I see a lot of you in his features. You must be very proud.”

“I am. Thank you.” Truthfully, she sees a lot more of Rumple in her son, but they’re comforting words to hear all the same. Gideon will grow to look like his own person in time, anyways. 

“I know you must be tired,” Fitz says, “but I wanted to drop by, just for a brief moment, to congratulate you. Especially after our little adventure holed up in the library,” he winks. “You’ll let me know if you need anything?” 

Belle nods, and Fitz nods back, almost like a nervous tic.

“Good. Well then, I’ll be…” he jerks his head towards the door. 

“Thank you for stopping by,” Belle offers. This has been a bit of an odd visit, but cheering, somehow. 

“Of course.” Fitz is nearly out the door before he turns back around to say one last thing. “I’m happy for you, Belle. No one deserves this more than you do.”

And then he’s gone.

(The flowers don’t last forever, of course, but Belle takes care to press one between the pages of a book to preserve it just a little bit longer.)

———

Belle has never been much for "going out", whether by circumstance, inclination, or lack of invitation. It seems like she's been rushing, rushing, rushing, ever since she first stepped out of the asylum beneath Storybrooke Hospital and into the town proper. There's been monsters and demons and death and criss-crossing the realms and a baby, of all things, but little to no going out. Belle could probably count the instances on one hand.

But there's high reason to celebrate this time. Emma is finally getting married, after all, and Ruby has arranged a bachelorette party. Belle is a little wary about any Ruby-planned event, but at the same time, she's excited. It'll be nice to have a little break, to experience the concept of a "girl's night" for herself.

It's less clear how she ends up asking Fitz to babysit. Truthfully, it would have made more sense to leave Gideon with Killian and Charlie, or David and the rest of the Charming brood, or even with Granny. Gideon is so very fond of the colonel-turned-deputy sheriff, however, which is probably why Belle finds herself asking the favor without any prior thought.

(She's rather fond of him herself, she must admit. In the past few years, their acquaintance has strengthened into a strong friendship, built upon morning breakfasts at Granny's and his easy willingness to assist at the library whenever she needs and quiet movie nights in her apartment below the clock tower when she just needs some low-key adult company. Fitz is always there, with his easy going smile and his gentle sense of humor, happy to help and never asking more of her than she can give.)

(More and more lately, she's found a new kind of excitement and nerves brewing whenever Fitz is around, but Belle is doing her best to ignore those feelings.)

"I'm sure you must be busy on a Saturday night, and I know it's a lot to ask - it's perfectly fine if you say no -" she'd rambled, but Fitz had cut her off with a gentle hand on her arm and a warm smile.

"It's really not a problem," he'd assured her. "I'd be happy to watch the boy."

Sure enough, Gideon had squealed with glee and rushed across the room with all the boundless energy a boy just shy of two years old can possess as Fitz had appeared in the doorway. His giggles had filled the room and warmed Belle's heart as Fitz had swept her son up into the air and upside down. 

"Go have fun," he'd said. "We'll be fine here."

And she does have fun. There's dancing, and drinking - so much drinking - and plenty of laughter. Belle just might like this going out business; she's certainly not opposed to a repeat sometime, if they can arrange it with all of their wild schedules. There'd been passing concerns throughout the night about how Gideon is doing, but she trusts Fitz with her son. She's sure they're having a lovely time, and Gideon is long since sound asleep. 

She expects a quiet home after climbing the stairs to the little flat above the library - which is more treacherous than usual with her balance compromised by the combination of a variety of brightly colored drinks with ridiculous names and high heels - and she's not surprised to find it. What's more surprising is to see both Fitz and Gideon curled up on the couch with the tv playing softly in the background, her son plastered to the older man's side. 

It's such a simple, domestic little thing, to see how comfortable Gideon is with Fitz; it shouldn't affect her the way it does. Gideon is a trusting child, anyways, by some miracle of fate, immediately everyone's best friend. What really melts her heart is to see the protective arm Fitz has slung around his waist and the soft smile he wears, even in sleep. He's happy to be here, just existing with her son in the heart of their domain. It's jarring in the best way, near revolutionary. 

She loves him, she realizes in that moment - loves the way he's always there in his unobtrusive matter, that he fits into the little family unit that she and Gideon comprise. The problem is that a friend can do those things too, and even if Belle knows her own feelings, she can't speak for his, and her heart is still too fragile to try.

She tries to pry Gideon out of Fitz's arms as gently as she can to properly put him to bed, but Fitz wakes up anyways as his arm falls away.

"Sorry, darling, we got a little caught up in a movie," he whispers with a sheepish smile. Belle tries to ignore the way her pulse picks up at the little endearment, though she can’t help but sway - a combination of her drunkenness and a sudden surge of emotion. Fitz’s hand quickly flies out to brace and steady her, pulling himself to a sitting position as he does so. "Do you need any help?"

"That's alright, I've got him." By some miracle, her whisper doesn't shake as it trickles out. "Thanks for doing this."

"It was my pleasure, truly," he assures her, prying himself off the couch. 

They stand for a quiet moment, just staring at each other. Can he feel this same tension, these same feelings? She's not nearly bold enough to ask; maybe he can just see it in her eyes.

But no such luck. "I'll let you get to bed then," he says to break the silence. "I'll see you tomorrow? A late breakfast, perhaps?"

"Tomorrow," she agrees. "Goodnight, Fitz."

"Goodnight, Belle."

Even if he doesn't live here, the apartment feels emptier without him in it. 

——— 

Fitz comes by every morning to help Belle with the outdoor book drop, rain or shine, 8:30 AM, unless he’s ill or caught up with some kind of inescapable deputy business. He’d started after Gideon was born, when it seemed like half the town had taken a turn helping her out at the library when she was exhausted with her newborn and still couldn’t lift any weight. Nearly four years later now, it’s their routine, and if pressed, Belle will admit that she treasures these minutes they share each morning, retrieving books, checking them back in, and sorting them back out at the circulation desk. If he has time, Fitz often even stays to help shelve them.

(There’s something especially touching about the way he so carefully handles each volume every step of the way, especially knowing that he’s not much of a reader.)

Belle needs his help more when the weather is accommodating, but she loves watching him on sunny days like this, where the early sun shines in his hair like burnished gold. He’d cut his hair a couple of years back, and as fitting as the short ponytail at the nape of his neck had seemed, he’s impossibly handsome with his hair cropped short at the sides and just long enough to bounce and swoop at the top. 

(She’s got it bad, truly, and none of the bravery required to act on it.)

Maybe the sun on his hair hypnotized her. Or she finally just burst with feelings in a display of foolishness. Whatever the case, even as Belle feels like she’s watching a car crash in slow motion, she can’t stop her mouth from blurting out words like some terrible word vomit.

“Ruby thinks I should start dating,” she declares suddenly. Like that was even remotely a thing she planned on saying.

(It is the truth, at least; Ruby does think she should start dating. The fact that Ruby thinks she should start dating Fitz is the real crux of the issue at hand.)

Maybe anyone else would miss the way that Fitz stutters for a moment, his entire body freezing up before he continues unloading books. Then again, Belle isn’t most people, and she’s almost painfully aware of his every breath and movement after nearly five years spent dancing around one another.  It gives her a bit of hope, that maybe she isn’t quite so alone in this pining. “And what do you want, Belle?”

She shrugs casually before reaching in beside him, their arms brushing along the way. “I’m not really sure, truthfully. Gideon and I have always been fine by ourselves.”

“But?” 

“It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To have someone to care for me like that,” she replies wistfully. “It’s easy to feel a little lonely, when everyone else around here seems to have found their true love, their person.” Are you my person? Would you ever want to be?

“You’re not alone, you know.” Fitz’s voice is almost too casual, like he’s trying to conceal something else. 

“I know.” She lines the books up neatly on the cart as an excuse not to meet Fitz’s eyes, spines facing upwards. “I’ve never really done it before, though. Dating. Or even really proper courting like we might have done in the other realms. There was nothing really ordinary about what happened between Rumplestiltskin and I. There was a little in between when Rumple was banished beyond the borders, and I tried to move on, but… Will was never properly much for dating. A quick drink and kissing behind the bar? Yes. Courtship? No. Maybe it’s foolish, but I’d like to at least try. Be taken to dinner and pampered a little. I think I deserve that.”

“You do,” Fitz tells her gently, prying her hands away from where they’ve been nervously alphabetizing. “And it’s not foolish.”

“I don’t know that anything will come of it,” she says, blushing in the face of his compliments. “I’m a bookish single mother with enough baggage for a world tour. That may be too much for many men.”

“But you do want this? Dating? That’s a step you’re ready to take?”

Belle inhales, gathering her courage in a great breath before nodding. “I do.”

Fitz visibly swallows, as if he’s got his own nerves. Still, he squeezes her hands where they’re still clasped in his. “Then I’d like to be the first to take you to dinner. If you like.”

Belle can feel a smile start to spread across her face, her eyes crinkling as her mouth catches up. “You’d want that? Truly? Not just to be kind?”

“Truly,” he nods. “And very much. I’ve been terribly smitten with you for a long time, Belle, but I never wanted to overstep my bounds. I didn’t want to be some pushy bastard so soon after everything he did.”

He doesn’t need speaking. It’s terribly considerate of Fitz, and maybe even necessary. After all, it brought them here.

“Would it be horribly forward of me to kiss you?” Belle murmurs, stepping further into his space as happy, anticipatory butterflies take flight in her stomach. 

“Maybe,” he smiles back. “But I say we make our own rules.” 

“Then I’d very much like to kiss you.”

(And reader - she does.)

———

“Darling, could you spare a minute?” Fitz calls from the bedroom. “This tie is giving me trouble.”

It’s such a simple domestic request, but it still sends little flutters of happiness through Belle’s veins. Even after three years together, and four years before that as friends, Fitz is still ever inch the gentleman in every way. Loving him is warm, and gentle, and comforting. Loving him is home, in a way she hadn’t realized was possible.

Home these days, at least in the physical sense, is no longer the little apartment above the library, but a cheery yellow bungalow on a quiet street lined with lush trees. It’s a good place for Gideon to grow up, with a peaceful backyard and kids just next door right around his age, but it’s a perfect space for the three of them to grow, too - her, Gideon and Fitz. There’s space for a small study lined with bookshelves, and a spacious bedroom for a young boy to make his own, and a bright kitchen for family meals - not to mention, a master bedroom far enough removed from young ears at the top of the house in a converted attic space.

Climbing those stairs now, she finds Fitz fiddling with his necktie in the full length mirror they keep along one wall. It doesn’t look like he’s struggling that much with the garment, but it is lovely to see the way he practically lights up when she walks to him. 

“Now I know you’ve had to deal with much more complicated neckties than this,” she scolds lightly, reaching for the silk ends. “You just wanted to see me.” 

“Guilty as charged,” he admits with a smile. “But can you blame a man for wanting to see his wife, especially when she looks so beautiful?”

(That’s a welcome change, too - a ring and a white dress and so many other promises that she’s confident, finally, will be honored as a personal gospel.)

“Kiss-up.” Still, she blushes. 

“Just honest.” He leans in to softly kiss her forehead, perfectly in reach with Belle lifted up on high heels. 

“Nervous?” she asks, pulling the last loop of fabric through and down.

Fitz shrugs. “Not particularly. It’s just a formality, really. Why, do you think I should be?”

“Not at all,” she smiles back, tweaking his lapels for good measure.

And he shouldn’t be. Because this really is a formality; just a piece of paper. Fitz has been Gideon’s dad for years, happily, and both her boys had been ecstatic when she suggested they make it official. Today is just the day that a judge makes it official, with a small party with their friends to follow. 

“I love you,” Belle murmurs. It’s still wonderful even to say the words - a warmth and a peace that suffuses her entire soul.

“And I love you,” Fitz echoes back, leaning down for a brief kiss. It’s not anything particularly involved, but that’s nice in it’s own way - comforting, a promise that there will always be time for more and later and anything they want. 

It has to be short, too, because Belle can already hear feet pounding up the stairs. “Are you ready yet?” Gideon demands. His soft brown hair has somehow been tamed into submission, and she’d wrestled him into a nice shirt just before Fitz had called her upstairs. 

“We’ll be down in just a moment, bud,” Fitz tells their son. “Go ahead and wait by the door, we’re right behind you.”

As the footsteps rush back down the stairs, he offers her a chivalrous arm. “Shall we, darling?” 

“We shall.”

The rest of their life is waiting, after all. 

[youareiron-andyouarestrong]

39 + 87 + rebelcaptain

survival/wilderness + aroused by the sound of her voice 

always had high, high hopes 

It could be worse was the first thing Kay had said after the meeting that officially declared he had been put under Cassian’s jurisdiction. The one they got after Cassian had to convince Intelligence and the members of the Council that walking into the Rebel base with a reprogrammed Imperial enforcer droid was a good idea. 

It could be worse, Kay had said, they could’ve dismantled me down for parts and had you demoted. 

Intelligence agents don’t get demoted, Cassian had replied. We get burned. 

Oh. Kay had sounded like he was recalculating his formulas. Not much worse, then.

Since then, it became a kind of mantra Cassian had adopted. It could be worse. That was what he told himself when times became darker and harder. Things could be worse. He could be dead. It was always easier to feel a little better about your immediate situation when you weren’t irreversibly dead. 

After… well, everything, he had made the mistake of saying such around his team (his people, his network, his rogues). Then of course, inevitably, someone (Bodhi, Kay, Baze, Jyn) would start listing all the ways it could be worse. They could be stuck on a swamp planet. Bodhi could be missing another arm. Baze could lose all his guns, and the spare grenades. Jyn might miss the evening meal. The suggestions would become increasingly more and more ridiculous as time went by and they stretched their imaginations (which were truly considerable) to the limit.  It became a game, a slightly morbid one perhaps, but one that amused them at least, and allowed for them to gently tease Cassian out of his darker moods. Of course, someone would eventually trump them all with pointing out, We could all be dead on Scarif. And then game would end, at least until the next time someone said, It could be worse. 

Cassian was trying to remind himself of that now. Things could be worse. 

He and Jyn were on an uninhabited (hopefully) forest moon, true. They were laying low from the Imperials searching for them, that was nothing new.  Practically routine. It would be about seventy-two standard hours before their ship came into orbit and Kay and Bodhi could reach them. They had food and shelter and it wasn’t raining anything other than water outside their little cave. Frankly, Cassian had survived on less than that. 

If it wasn’t in a Force-be-damned cave, then he might’ve gone so far as to say he had definitely had worse. 

But it was a cave, and anything that wasn’t in the immediate city proper was outside of his experience and thus Cassian hated it. None of his training had covered wilderness survival. He had been placed solely in cities and military bases and maybe an outpost or two, if he was unlucky. He had never needed to learn to survive in anything other than outside the law and within the Empire, and that was hard enough by anyone’s standards. 

This was probably what kept Jyn from needling him too much about his (entirely deserved) grousing. When it was established that they were stuck here for the next seventy-two hours, Jyn had simply nodded, and said, “Time to find shelter.” In the time it took for Cassian to try to set up a transmitter and send Kay the needed coordinates, Jyn had found them a cave, wove a curtain of vines together to disguise the opening, found firewood and then headed out and returned with this particular moon’s species of fish. Somehow she’d gotten wet wood to catch flame and was now comfortably cooking what she’d neatly gutted and cleaned out of her catch. 

Cassian could only blink at her. 

Jyn raised her head, caught his bemused stare. “What?” she asked. “I learned with Saw. He was pretty empathetic about it, actually.” 

“I can see that,” Cassian said finally. “How did you get the fire to catch?”

“I keep a little bit of flint in my pack at all times,” Jyn replied. “Plus, I used your spare flimsy.”

Cassian’s head snapped up at that, only to see Jyn’s grin flash like silver in the gloom. “Very funny,” he said flatly, in much the same tone of voice he used when Kay was attempting to be comforting or encouraging. 

“I thought so,” Jyn replied comfortably, giving the fish a little tweak. “I only used my spare flimsy.” 

The fish was good. Better than good, though Cassian had privately wished he could have a little pepper, maybe some spices to season it. He had given Jyn some of his closely hoarded supply of coarse salt for the fish, a small packet he kept on his person at all times. Along with roasted in the embers an edible root Jyn had also found and brought back, it was, all in all, not the worst meal Cassian had ever had. 

“Are we starting the I’ve-had-it-worse game again?” Jyn asked as she smoored the fire. “You’ve got that look on.”

“I can think of other things to do,” Cassian said, mostly for the form of it.

“Mmm.” Jyn settled down comfortably. “Better string them out, if we’re here for the next seventy-two hours.”

“I have my datapad,” Cassian said, his eyes drifting closed. The sound of the rain was soothing, the smell of woodsmoke and fish comforting, and Jyn’s voice a pleasant hum in his ear. “I could get some coding done.”

A chuckle escaped Jyn. “With what signal?”

He opened his eyes then to give her a look, which just made her chuckle again. “City boy spy.”

“Civilized,” he grumbled, not with any real heat. 

“I can’t believe you never had any wilderness training,” Jyn said, stretching out in the heat of the fire like a lazy felid. “My next training for the Pathfinders is going to cover that.”

“Poor bastards,” Cassian murmured, just to hear Jyn’s chuckle again, a sound he valued more than the beep of a transmitting code, the whirr of a well-programmed droid, a whisper in the crowd, Fulcrum, freedom and rebellion一 “And I wasn’t stationed in the wilderness; there was no use for me there. I was more useful in the cities.” 

“Useful,” Jyn echoed, and then shook her head. “It was still short-sighted and ill-prepared. When you write the report for Draven, you can tell him I said so.”

“He’ll take it under due consideration,” Cassian replied and Jyn snorted. 

A companionable silence fell between them for a moment, until Jyn tilted her head back to glance outside. “We’re going to have to share body heat once nightfall comes.” Her profile was averted to him and her voice now dispassionate, which might explain why Cassian’s initial response was an absentminded “Hmm.” Then when what she said registered, he let out a startled, “Pardon?”

“Body heat,” Jyn repeated, now stubbornly facing away from him. Hiding a blush? The rich light of the fire made it hard to tell. “Plus the bedding. The ground’s not going to do your spine or leg any favors,” she added with a scowl in her voice. Any mention of his bad leg or back always made Jyn glare like she’d like to make the misbehaving tendons and bones work for him, or else.  “And I don’t know how much the temperature is going to drop between now and nightfall. Probably a few degrees, enough to make us uncomfortable. So it’s only practical.”

Cassian felt himself automatically move to wet his lips before checking that tic. Never mind she couldn’t see it.  “I’ll trust you then.”

Now Jyn did look at him, straight through the firelight and into his eyes. “I know.” The words vibrated with the seriousness of the statement, and how Jyn was going to follow through with it with every fiber of her being. The dim red gold light make her look gilded and shadowed, something wrought from gold and onyx and ivory. 

Cassian gave an involuntary head shake. This what came of being in caves. They stripped away all your common sense. 

*

The night came on, and Jyn’s prediction about the temperature came true. It was more than enough to make them uncomfortable and to break out the temperature conserving blankets. Jyn had layered their bedding as much as she could and rolled up their jackets to use as blankets and pillows, as needed. One thing they both knew all too well in this life of theirs was to sleep whenever it was offered to them. Jyn slept facing the fire, and Cassian’s back to the right wall of the cave so that they both faced the entrance. He ran warmer than Jyn, who always seemed to be a degree or two cooler than everyone else. There was some awkward fumblingーwhere to put his arm, where she could rest her head. But they managed it. Cassian could smell the woodsmoke clinging to her hair, the weave of her scarf under his head. He kept himself as still as possible behind her, resting on his good hip. 

It didn’t feel like his life, this part, this small island of quiet. His life was shadows and hard edges and smog filled skylines. It wasn’t the smell of rain and the warmth of a fire on his face and Jyn resting on his arm. 

This wasn’t his life. It was just a respite. 

*           

Cassian woke slowly, only to find that the fire must’ve died down at some point during the night. That would be the only plausible reason for why Jyn was currently so thoroughly entangled with him that he couldn’t tell his arms and legs from hers. 

It was either still dark or almost dawn. That strange, unreal, dreamlike time when the edges of the world were misty and indistinct. It could be worse, he tried to tell himself, registering Jyn’s warmth and her slow, steady breathing. The way her cheek rested on his arm. How relaxed and soft she was in sleep, such a contrast to her waking self.  Things could definitely be worse一

Jyn let out a sigh, a little sleepy sound of pure contentment, snuggled back into him, her rear fit so snugly against his hips that he almost choked. 

He did not want to think about any other time Jyn might make that noise. He absolutely did not want to imagine what other circumstances could possibly arise一

Shut up, Cassian told himself only somewhat frantically. Just shut. Up. He wasn’t some over eager teen falling all over himself over a member of the opposite sex--

Jyn rolled over in his arms, somehow one leg sliding between his, blowing all of Cassian’s rational thought to pieces. Another soft sigh, warm breath brushing against his neck, her left leg slung over his hips一who knew Jyn was a cuddler? Not him. He hadn’t even given himself permission to imagine what Jyn was like when she was asleep一

This is a dream, Cassian thought. It was arguably the worst (best) dream he’d had in awhile, so he might as well enjoy it while it lasted, and hoard the memory for the dark nights and shadowed days. 

Jyn sleeping peacefully in his arms, soft sighs in his ear, warmth against his skin, the sound of rain and a quiet place untouched by anything bad or hard and dark一 

Another sleepy sound, almost like a moan as she tried to get comfortable against him, tugging his arm to better adjust it for her head… 

Don’t let me wake up, Cassian thought. Please, ancestors, the Force, whoever is running this forsaken galaxy, don’t let me wake up. Let me keep this, I have asked for so little for all my life, and this isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, it’s probably the best, please let me keep it… 

Jyn sighed against his neck, shifted slowly and languorously, her lashes falling and rising against his skin. “Cass…?” her voice was a low, husky rasp, one that made his blood run hot and fierce and what time was it even? Was this still a dream somehow? 

In the dim light, he could see Jyn waking herself up, getting her bearings again. Her eyes flicked down to take in their entwined limbs and then back up to his face. Unconsciously his arms tightened around her, and then loosened again immediately. If she didn’t want to be there, then he wasn’t going to keep her there, he would never do anything against her express wishes if he could possibly help it.

“Cass,” she repeated in a whisper. If she wasn’t comfortable in this clench, there was no sign of it in her voice. But her eyes were watchful. “How’s your back?”

“I think it’s fine,” he whispered back. It felt too early to speak. 

Jyn was quiet for a second or two, her fingers flexing against him.  “You need to… do you have to go?” he asked still in a whisper. 

“No,” she whispered back. “Do you?”

Never, ever, they could kill me here and I would die content, only you’d never allow that一

“No,” he said. “I don’t.”

They lay there in the dim, the world a very great distance away. 

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” Jyn said softly. “We can just stay here… just for a little while.”

“Yes,” Cassian agreed. This was, after all, a very nice dream. “Let’s just stay here.”

The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile, a smile Cassian had once thought he would die to earn, and maybe still would. 

“You make for a very good pillow,” she murmured, her body utterly relaxed along the length of his. “Best sleep I’ve had in awhile.”

Cassian was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Me too,” he said back, almost too low to hear. But she heard it. Of course she did.   

[kisskissbanggang]

Standby pt. 3

[<15Min. Read/3.6K Words – Bang Chan x Female Reader – Idol!AU – NSFW/Some Smut, A Suspicious Amount of Plot – Unfortunate Pining, Long Flights, Passing Notes, Blowjobs, Exhibitionism, Edging, Risky Situations, Acting Professional]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Feedback

So, if I’m not going to finish, we at least definitely have more than enough time to talk now, right?

You stared at the words Chan scrawled in the margins of your meeting notes from two days ago. He casually set the pen back into your hand. As if getting on the damn plane wasn't hard enough, now you had to deal with this.

Chan simpered and pulled his jacket out of his carry-on and zipped it on, snuggling into the hood now that he was safely on the plane. He saw your shaking eyes and merely shrugged. Your move, he seemed to say.

You grabbed your pen.

I'm not playing this game, you wrote, there's nothing to talk about.

Chan rolled his eyes, scoffing under his face mask as he plucked your pen back from you. What game? It's a long flight, he scribbled, I'm sure we'll find something to talk about.

Impatient and fuming, you snapped your notebook shut and chunked it into the seat-back pocket in front of you before bundling yourself into your jacket. You rifled through your bag and dug out your eye mask and, shooting Chan an indignant glare, snapped it on, pulled up your hood, and promptly tried to catch some rest on your dumbly long flight.

However, what you really wanted to do was face the more pressing matter at hand and take any time to process your feelings here as you shuffled in your seat to face away from him. Who were you kidding? Chan, or Chris, or whatever you wanted to call him -- was just a guy. Despite the wings you'd been plucking off the butterflies in your stomach, more hatched each day. You were being unreasonable. There would always be another boy with a nice laugh and a cute dimple. There would always be another boy with an adorable nose and a long neck. Just like there would always be another boy that always brought you coffee from the corner store when he went shopping for the band, or another boy that would kiss you as if he was meant to and insist on eating you out while on standby for your flight and --

You shook yourself out of it, sighing as you resettled in your seat. Who were you kidding? Maybe there wouldn't be other guys like Chris, or Chan, or whatever you wanted to call him, but this was so much trouble that you felt like the deck was on fire while you were bailing out the boat. All you knew was how much more difficult ignoring this was becoming. The first day at the cafe was simple -- he was just a customer. The first day with the group was easy -- he was just an idol. The day back at Inkigayo was a little more difficult -- he was alluring in a way you weren't sure he even meant, but he was in need of your help and even that got you going in a way you hadn't predicted before. This was a fine hole you'd dug for yourself, the perfect size for a premature casket. In fact, from all the stress and introspection, you managed to get distracted by actually falling asleep.

Some time had passed by the time you woke up, but you couldn't be sure if it were hours or minutes. You checked your phone: only one hour had elapsed. You sighed, daring to roll back over and see how Chan was doing. By now he was turned away, curled up with his headphones on as he presumably rested. You slipped off your sleeping mask and sat up, looking down to see what you were wrapped up in: one of those blankets you'd marveled to Chan once about how much comfier they were than the ones in business class. Sighing, you attempted to un-blanket yourself, nearly knocking over a coffee and a ginger ale set on your tray table: your usual order from the beverage cart on long flights. You tasted the coffee. Dammit. It was perfect with your right amount of cream and sugar. You sighed, letting your head thunk back against the headrest. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Chan's notebook sitting on his tray table, open to a page with choreo notes and bites of lyrics he'd been mulling over when he couldn't sleep. You surreptitiously grabbed the notebook, sliding the pen out of the spiral binding and, making sure he hadn't been roused by your secret mission, set to task on a fresh page.

It's hard to say exactly what has been going through my head, other than, clearly, I really like you and this is dangerous for both of us, you wrote.

You're being nice like you're nice to everyone but I keep thinking it's about me and it drives me crazy. I like my job, and I need it. I graduate soon, and I'll be that much closer to making this a real career. I'll be able to go back to my apartment once we get back home, and maybe that'll be good for both of us, to get some space. I always said I'd do right by you, and right now that means getting back to the way things were. You're terrific, and that makes it that much harder to not want you like I do. I'm sorry I can't really find the words to say this in person, but you're so good to me. I'd rather be frustrated and have to get over you than lose you altogether.

Before you could chicken out, you set the notebook back on Chris' tray table and resumed looking like you were sleeping, momentarily terrified as you noticed him shift beside you before a short rest caught you again.

It felt like no time had passed, when in fact it had been another hour and a half according to your phone. You took a sip of your cold coffee before glancing over at Chris' notebook. A response. Checking to see if he was still resting, you gently grabbed the notebook and pulled it close.

You don't think I know how dangerous this whole thing is? For me, too? Believe me, I wasn't expecting this either, so this is amazing and awful all at the same time. I'll say what we're both thinking and I'm surprised you haven't said yet: I wish it wasn't you but here you are and this is what we're working with. I think you're right about getting some space. It's the smart thing to do. I'd rather be frustrated than not have you around.

You went to grab the pen off of Chris' tray table, not noticing he had woken up and was currently reaching for his drink. Startled, you gasped out a quick laugh before settling, fully taking off your eye mask and slipping it back in your bag. You set the notebook back on his tray table, this time just penning the quick response right there, leaned a little into his personal space over the arm rest.

Thanks for the drinks.

He grabbed the pen back from you with a smile. No problem.

You pulled your own pen back out from your notebook. So, you scribbled, we're keeping it professional.

Yeah, he replied, professional is really the only way to go if we want to survive this.

It was nice while it lasted, though.

I wouldn't trade it for anything, he responded.

Could you imagine? Secret gifts and dates and the whole shebang.

You were almost writing in tandem now, each of you filling up a column on the page.

Right? Bad secret names for KKT. "Princess" or "Boo" or

"Babygirl?"

Shut up.

You both let out a quiet laugh, settling in next to each other and just writing back and forth like this. You'd never really had a chance to talk to Chris like this before, really getting to know him and just hang out, and it was surprisingly easy to fall into line with, as if you were returning and not just trying it out for the first time. However, each period punctuated how hard reality was going to hit you once this plane landed, and according to your watch that was creeping closer and closer. Filling time on your stupidly long flight turned out to be so much easier when it was with someone you enjoyed this much. Naps filling the spaces between movies and eating and work and more talking all the while left you dumbfounded as the captain announced your upcoming descent.

Here it was. Reality. Being professional. Being able to keep each other around while keeping the careers you both worked so hard for. Was it the change in altitude or your stomach crowding your lungs from the growing pit inside you? You grabbed Chan's notebook one more time -- your exchanges filling nearly ten pages of notes in various sizes and lengths, the blank spaces filled with doodles and games of tic-tac-toe.

I'll miss this, you wrote.

Me, too, he replied.

You shared a meaningful look as the plane touched down. This feeling was familiar. You stood up straight once the plane pulled into the gate, shaking it off and getting the hell over it. You were smart. You were professional. You were capable. You were right back in management mode, getting the two of you through customs with ease and arranging for an Uber with your international phone booted up and ready to go. Quickly, you sent a quick text to Hyun-Jae-unnie to let her know you'd arrived. No replies came except for a memo in your inbox letting you know rehearsal was thankfully postponed by a couple hours. You really had to pat yourself on the back: you were going to get to the hotel with plenty of time to change and settle and head to the venue for rehearsal. You could already hear the modest praise as your Uber pulled up. Your driver offered you the front seat unless, of course, you wanted to sit in the back with your "boyfriend". Just as you were about to politely correct him, Chan slid up, thanking him and pulling you into the backseat by the hand.

You stared at him wildly before digging out your phone and tapping out a quick message.

>What the hell are you doing?

>>Oh calm down would you? I'm enjoying myself for a couple more minutes. This guy has probably never heard of k-pop and definitely doesn't know who I am. Loosen up... Babygirl.

>Shut UP.

You watched, flabbergasted and quietly impressed as Chan gladly made flawless small talk with the driver involving an entirely untrue story that he had to have been telling off the cuff: you'd met at university in Sydney, you'd been dating ever since, and you'd always wanted to travel to the States together. You nodded along dumbly, never once letting go of Chan's hand. Was this something he'd thought of already? Some alternate universe where this would not only be fine, but encouraged? Feeling so smitten felt like staring into Oblivion now. You thanked your lucky stars as the car pulled up to the hotel. You tersely thanked the driver before nearly sprinting out of the car and into the lobby to grab your room keys, not daring to look back at Chan gleefully trotting behind you.

Running into the elevator on the outskirts of the lobby, the doors barely closed before you wheeled Chan around, shoving him up against the wall. You punched the button for the top floor, well past where you were heading, but you had more important business to take care of first.

"What the hell was that about?!"

"What?" Chan laughed, "I can't have one more nice little memory between the two of us?"

You agitatedly smacked his arm. "No, Chan, you can't! It's reckless and selfish and wrong and I hate how much I want more of it! We can't just do this because we have an opportunity."

"Oh, so I'm 'Chan' again now?" You'd expected a few responses, but that hadn't been one them.

"Yes, Chan, because that's exactly what I'm talking about," you huffed, "I'm not about to treat you differently anymore just to get your rocks off." You poked a finger into his chest, shocked as he grabbed it and pulled you close. Struggling for only a moment, you found yourself soothed as Chan only wrapped his arms around you; a simple embrace that would normally be entirely innocuous. You sank into his hold, selfishly taking one more moment as he stroked your hair.

"Sorry," he said quietly, "I just realized that while we've made out, and you've jerked me off for God's sake, we've never just done... This? I just wanted to do it before we really have to stop."

"I... Okay." For once, you had no words, content to just let this be for a second.

"You have to slow down one of these days," Chan laughed softly, "I can take care of you, too, you know. Or, at least, I could've."

At this, you looked up at him, gloriously, stupidly infatuated with him as ever, and found him gazing with that same expression right back at you.

And your lips met. You weren't sure who leaned in first this time, but you seemed to silently agree that anything this stupid worth doing was worth doing until the very last second. Both your carry-on bags hit the floor of the elevator, your arms wrapped tight around each other as you kissed. You were both rudely awakened as the elevator chimed for the top floor, and you impulsively leaned over, punching the button for the bottom floor of the parking garage. The elevator doors slid shut once again and lurched into its descent as you grabbed Chris' face closer once again. This trip seemed to go by twice as fast, Chris out of breath and nuzzling your neck as the elevator chimed. He reached for the button and you stopped him, your hand on his and leading it back around your waist.

"Did you have to pick the most inconvenient place on the planet?" He laughed right below your ear.

"If we play our cards right," you breathed, "we won't be interrupted much if we just let the elevator sit. At worst we'll occasionally have to deal with an interruption if someone gets on."

"When we're trying to get off?" Chris quipped.

"Oh, is that what we're doing?" You smirked in reply.

His hands eagerly squeezed your hips. "I don't know if you're keeping score, but I didn't get to finish--" he quickly checked his phone "-- yesterday. I've been thinking about this since yesterday."

"Awh," you cooed, "is that the case? Maybe I can help you out." You hazarded a cursory grope of his stiffening member in his jeans. This had quickly crossed back into "too far" territory as Chris' head immediately leaned back against the wall of the elevator, a low groan escaping him.

"More," he begged under his breath, his hands clutching onto the hand rail as you snuck your fingers under his briefs to more firmly massage his length. You couldn't help but marvel at how much had changed since this moment weeks ago at Inkigayo, entirely awkward and tense -- to right now, halfway across the world and foolish enough to feel invincible. Chris' hand gently traveling up your arm to feel your warm breast brought you back to the present time, making you hungrier for even more.

"Hey," you offered with a sly smile, "didn't I show you something nifty the last time we did this?"

"You mean that perfect finale?" He replied, trying to keep up despite the blood draining from his head straight to his cock.

"How about an encore?" You laughed.

Chris groaned. "Oh my god," he smirked, "I thought I was the cheesy one."

"I figured you'd know as well as anyone I'm a sucker for competition." You playfully shrugged as you lifted the hem of his shirt for better access to his waistband. You carefully dropped to your knees in the elevator, now resting in the parking garage until it was called again. Chris was stuck looking for a comeback as you pulled out his erection, pressing a sweet kiss just below his navel before tentatively licking a short stripe up the underside of his cock. He cursed gruffly, his knuckles white where he clung to the handrail. "This is what you wanted?" You asked sweetly.

"Please fucking do it," he pleaded and you gladly obliged, your eyes flitting to the digital display on the wall as the elevator lurched back into motion. You had ten floors to make him suffer, and you savored every second of it as you wrapped your lips around his length. The soft head of his cock dipped further into your mouth, happily taking your time and enjoying his whines. The second the elevator hit the ninth floor, you wiped your mouth and shoved him back into his jeans. You strategically stood in front of him as he impatiently tapped his foot behind you. You made friendly small-talk to the new occupants of the elevator as you typed a quick message to Chris on your phone. You half-turned to show him.

>You alright???

Chris grumbled behind you and you felt him tap his phone against your hip a moment later. You looked down and grabbed it to read.

>>You know those things that people joke about musicians getting to enjoy? Well this is very much that and I'd really really really really like to get back to it

You barely held in a giggle. The poor guy was doomed and you'd hardly started. You both gave a friendly wave to the passengers of the elevator and he actually beat you to punch the button for the bottom floor again. He let out a heavy sigh as you eagerly dropped back to your knees and resumed the slowest blowjob you'd ever stood to give.

The elevator routine repeated two more times and by now, Chris was sweating. It had reached the point where you were now gently ordering him to keep his hands to himself, you know, so you neither of you would get distracted.

"Please, baby, come on," he urged, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He cursed thoroughly as you bobbed him into your throat, lightly gagging for just a moment.

"I wouldn't beg too much if I were you," you warned, "I might not have that much more patience for it."

"You're right," he struggled, restraining himself from thrusting into your mouth, "you're right, baby, I'm sorry."

You grinned at the compliance as the elevator chimed. It was ringing for your floor. You quickly checked the clock on the other side of the doorway; you'd had plenty of time to play. One more trip and you'd reward Chris for such a good time. You wondered what else you could get up to as the elevator rose, making sure to back up each time it sounded like he was getting close. You teasingly kissed the tip of his cock before slipping it back into his briefs as the elevator neared your floor. Chris finally caught his breath as you dusted yourself off and got up. You pressed a nice kiss to his lips and shared a small smile just before the doors slid open.

Hyun-Jae-unnie was down the hallway, making her way with the boys toward the staff member who had rung up the elevator. She was inspecting her itineraries for the day in a folder she cradled in her arm.

"Unnie!" You called excitedly, giving a wave. Chris cursed quietly behind you. His orgasm just got postponed indefinitely. Unnie's head snapped up at the sound of your voice and charged towards you.

"Unnie, I--"

"You wretched, horny, stupid girl." She growled, lunging into the elevator and getting a solid hold on your hair at the root and began tugging you out into the hallway despite your shocked scream. Chris tried to intervene, shocked as Hyun-Jae pushed him off. She was a good bit shorter than you; you'd never expected her to be so strong.

"Noona--" Chris tried weakly, still attempting to let the blood flow back to the right places.

"I'll deal with you later," she replied sharply with a glare.

"Hyuna-Jae-noona, it's not what--" he tried again.

"Oh," she laughed, crazed, "It's not what I think? Not much left to think. I leave you two idiots alone for a day and look at this forest fire I have to put out." She let go of your hair and shoved her folder into your hands. You opened it, nearly dropping it in shock.

Photos upon photos of the both of you from the past 24 hours. Naver and Twitter screenshots printed out, fans wondering who you were and picking you out from photos and footage since the beginning of your internship. Wild conspiracies that you took a separate flight on purpose. Wilder conspiracies that you got the job just to get closer to Chris. Had you really been standing that close together the whole time in the airport? Had you really looked that comfortable together? There were ten or so photos of you both in the airport lounge -- you should've known it was too crowded to be normal. Hell, there was even a photo of Chris pulling you into your Uber by the hand from just a couple hours ago.

"Noona -- " Chris started meekly.

"Not now, Chan. Go to rehearsal."

"But, Noona, I --"

"Rehearsal. NOW." She shot him a severe look. Changbin reached forward to gently pull Chris into the elevator. Everyone watched you, stares ranging from sympathy to contempt as the doors began to slide shut. You turned back to face Hyun-Jae's rage.

"You. Get in our room right now. We have to talk."

[To Be Continued.]

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 11 of 30]

"I won't make you pull out Getting it all tonight (All that I want) I just wanna go down In history how you like (Wanna be the one) As the one who makes you comfortable 'Cause your lips, they got me feeling very vulnerable (The way that you speak to me, freak with me Gives me a rise)

In too deep Don't wanna pull out (And I think we're) In too deep Don't wanna pull out…"

DVSN—"Too Deep"

Summary: Erik & Yani take a big step...

NSFW. Mature content. Smut. As always, Like/Comment/ & Reblog if you enjoy it! Happy reading!

Erik spent an hour soaking his right hand in ice. His knuckles were bruised from handling Chez.

Yani was quiet after they dropped Twyla off at Leona's. When he took her back to the compound to retrieve her car, her silence bothered him.

"You okay?" he asked when they arrived at Klaue's.

"I'm fine."

"You still look shook up from what happened."

"It was a lot to see."

"Can you stay over for a bit?"

"No, I have to get back to Sydette and then I'm heading over to my cousin's house."

"Can I come see you tonight? We can watch TV…I can help watch the kids—"

"It's better if I babysit alone. Bam is not good with new people and he won't let us watch TV in peace."

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

Her eyes wouldn't meet his and she rubbed her right hand over her thigh in a nervous tic. He stepped closer to her and let his left hand cradle her face.

"What's wrong? You still worried?

"Yeah."

He pulled her in for a hug and he felt her soft body relax into his, her tension draining in his arms. Her face rested on his chest.

"Nothing is going to happen. Believe me."

He tilted her chin up to him and bent his head to kiss her. Her lips took his and he was gentle with her mouth.

"Call me tomorrow if you want to hang out," he said. He didn't want her to commit to anything if she still needed to get her bearings.

"I will," she said.

He watched her leave and wondered if he ruined their fragile reconnection.

Hand cool and feeling better from the ice, Erik took a look at the security feed from all around the compound. No intruder detections. No weird glitches in the security system. He checked on the secret vault in Klaue's main house under the large world globe that held the man's liquor. Afterward, he took a walk to the gun range and made his way to a false room that led down into a fully functioning wide-open workspace.

Erik had already moved in the equipment he would need to work on Klaue's arm, the prosthetic secured behind a magnetized forcefield. He had carefully disassembled about forty percent of the arm to study the mechanical functions. Klaue confided that it was a modified Wakandan mining tool he had stolen when he snatched the cache of vibranium for Erik's father. The arm used sonic and electromagnetic tech, and it was Erik's second introduction to technology from his father's homeland.

The entity known as Ultron had rendered Klaue an unwilling amputee, and somehow Klaue had jerry-rigged himself a haphazard weapon from the Wakandan tool. The first thing Erik did was to implant a secret tracking device. Once he figured out how to fix the vibranium issue in the arm, he would deliver it to Klaue personally. He would always know where the man was anywhere on the planet. It would make Erik's life easier. He made a note to order some robotic tools through Marisol in Brazil and have it FedExed to the P.O. Box he had set up in Havensight under an assumed name.

Sound was his specialty, and his days at M.I.T. were spent studying sonic warfare. He was actually excited about working on perfecting the weaponized arm. He had a small glimpse of Wakanda by accident when he was a child. Rubbing his right knuckles, Erik thought of the night he had snuck out of his parent's bedroom with his father's kimoyo beads. He was almost ten and working hard on a science project to enter into the Stark Science Expo. An affordable personal homecare robot for the elderly, that's what he was creating for the expo. Something to help his Nana who had become too frail to care for herself the way she used to. His great-grandmother was one of the great loves of his life. He wanted to make something for her to help make life easy the way she had done for his mother before he was born.

Erik chuckled to himself. How strange it was to remember how he was so enamored with anything Stark related when he was a child. Then to become Tony Stark's intern at nineteen and getting to know the man behind the Expo was a whole other level of irony. To think that Iron Man himself had unknowingly helped prepare Erik for his takeover of the world by giving him access to cutting-edge cyber tech as a teenager was a feeling he relished. There would come a day, one day soon perhaps when Erik would look that man in the face again. Maybe they would have another conversation like the one they had ten years previous where they had shared some personal things with one another during a time where Erik's father had left him a small clue reminding him of what his destiny was.

The night Erik slipped away from his parent's room with the kimoyo beads had been a life-changer. Tinkering with his robot all day with his father as a test subject and observing his father's beads glowing with a silver light prompted Erik to wait for his father to slip the beads off of his arm and rest it in the velvet casing he kept it in at night near his bed.

Erik could remember it like it was yesterday. Watching TV with his parents on their bed, his father nudged him to leave so that he could make love to his mother. His parents hadn't even noticed him slipping the beads into his pajama bottoms. He left their room and went into his retrieving the fingerprints he had lifted from his father when he touched Erik's robot project. Erik knew that his father's beads weren't just decoration. They heated up sometimes. Changed colors. Glowed when Baba didn't think Erik noticed. Vibrated.

Sometimes his father stroked the beads, not as one would do to adjust jewelry, but more like he was typing a code into it, his subtle taps catching Erik's eyes. When Erik tried tapping the beads himself, nothing happened. So he set out to collect his father's fingerprints, trying to collect enough oils in the print to try and see if he could figure out a code that he was sure his father was using to make the beads stop glowing or even vibrate.

He could hear his parents making love, something that was normal to him as a child, and it was the perfect time to experiment with the beads. His father was a deep sleeper after he had sex, and Erik knew he could put the beads back before the sun came up.

Then it happened.

He used the lifted prints and a force bipolar gripping tool to try and open a bead, but then it all went haywire when a force-field of blue light blinded him with intense brightness that flooded the room. His own fingertips had access to controlling the beads at that point and he stroked one of the symbols releasing holographic images that floated around him with images of his father's homeland. His first introduction to the real Wakanda.

His parents caught him and Erik had a glimpse into his own future. It broke his family apart for a short time. Right before the really bad times began. When his family was broken forever.

He shook the memory away before it led to a place he didn't want to go to in that moment. The immediate goal was to figure out why the vibranium was overpowering the prosthetic controls in the arm. He couldn't do that until he knew how the mining tool worked inside and out.

After taking enough 4D photos of the interior of the arm, Erik took a break to make himself dinner.

"Yo man, you can't keep blocking the walkway."

Jerome only stared at Erik as he lounged on the cement path catching the final rays of sunlight. He walked around the iguana.

"Stop shitting near the pool too, nigga," he tossed back knowing the iguana didn't give a damn and would keep defecating wherever it pleased.

Dinner was just leftover grilled lemon chicken and a baked sweet potato. He ate his meal out on the balcony and watched the sea along with a bourbon colored sunset. He didn't feel like working on the arm again, and he didn't feel like reading or watching TV.

Sitting on the balcony in the balmy weather was pleasing to his overactive brain. His mind could become manic in a lot of ways when he worked on things. He checked his cell searching for Yani's name on the gossip site she mentioned. He saw the picture causing the ruckus and was glad that his dark glasses hid most of his face. He saved the picture in a gallery file. Something about the way they looked walking together made him feel good. Sydette was pointing to something that he was smiling at, and he could see why his dimples would make the comment section blow up. The baby was smiling too even though her eyes were blacked out, her own dimples deeper than his, and Yani clutching his arm just made them look like a little family.

He would be hard-pressed to blame Chez for thinking incorrectly about his paternity. Erik almost felt bad for the dude. Not over the paternity gossip, but for losing Yani. Ursula wasn't that much of a looker, and the other side chick he had on his couch was subpar at best.

He read the comments and the breakdown seemed evenly split, half thinking Yani had stepped out on Chez, the other half stanning Yani and applauding her for moving on from a deadbeat. He wondered how it felt for Yani to be island famous not because of her own talents, but because she had a baby with a popular man-baby. He couldn't imagine dropping babies in women back to back like that.

He checked Yani's timeline and she hadn't added any new pictures or updated her feed. He scrolled through old photos of her and her avatar popped up.

"Hello?" he said almost breathless.

"Hi," Yani said.

"Hey, what's poppin'?"

"You want to come over?"

His voice got a little cocky.

"I thought your little cousin would have a problem with me?"

He checked his watch. It was almost eight.

"My cousin ended up canceling her plans. I'm at home."

He wanted to pick her up and bring her to the compound, almost suggested doing that, but then he thought about Sydette. Shit. A baby did change a lot of things. Yani would have to pack up a bag for her and then, depending on when they left his place, they'd have to maybe wake the baby up, pack her up again while disturbing the child's nighttime routine.

It also meant that if he wanted to mess around with Yani, which he did want to, he was in Leona's home and sex was out of the question.

But he wanted to see her again.

"I'll be right over," he said.

###

They watched a sketch comedy show re-run with Sydette sitting between them on the couch. Leona was fast asleep and Twyla was in the bedroom she shared with Yani watching another TV show. When an adult animated show came on, Yani lifted up her t-shirt and slipped her bra cup aside to let Sydette do a final night feed before bed. Sydette suckled but kept her eyes on Erik, and he felt himself get a little jealous. He wanted to be on Yani and kept hoping the little girl would fall asleep soon. The thought made him think of his father again and how he would get annoyed when Erik used to linger on their bed to watch TV with his head on his mother's stomach. Somewhere in an afterlife, if there was one, his father was probably laughing at him. Erik now knew how he felt when Baba wanted alone time with his mother and Erik was blocking access.

Sydette was so sweet though, and he could see her eyes getting drowsy. Her head fell away from Yani's big dark nipple.

"At last," Yani whispered, "I'll be right back."

She scurried away with the baby and went to her room. Erik stretched his arms out on the couch and waited for Yani to return.

"You want anything else to drink?"

"No, I'm good," he said making his voice softer in volume.

Yani dimmed the lights in the room.

Alone at last.

She cuddled up next to him and they watched another episode of the animated show. He put his arm around her and she snuggled closer and he wished they were back in the living room of Klaue's house. His hand brushed against her right breast and she sighed. His eyes glanced over to the hallway. The two bedrooms had their doors closed and it was hard to see the couch from where the back rooms were.

"Give me a kiss," he said.

She tilted her head up and he kissed her, already knowing she was wanting some affection by the way she was leaning into him.

"Is Kendall coming home soon?" he whispered.

"No. He's performing tonight at a club on the other side of the island."

His lips devoured hers and she squirmed on the couch. He pulled her to sit sideways on his lap.

"My turn with them titties, baby," he said pushing her shirt up. She held it up for him with her left hand and he pulled out her breasts from the cups of her bra and latched his mouth onto the right breast. He sucked on her like he needed to be fed, his lips going back and forth to lick and nibble each nipple. His dick was already getting fat in his shorts just from how he was excited by her large nipples.

He kissed her and her hungry mouth gave as much as he could greedily take. His right hand fondled and plucked at her tips. Her head turned slightly back to check to see if anyone was stirring from the back rooms.

He pulled her hand to touch his erection that grew against his thigh.

"Look what you did," he whispered.

She tugged on him and his lips pressed into hers until her fingers curled around the head of his dick. He was free-balling in his knee-length basketball shorts. They both could see the wet stain where his clear fluid was soaking through against his thigh. She gripped him tight and he pushed his face between her breasts.

"Fuck…you got me so hard. Taste me baby…"

His fingers touched hers on his tip and he let his pre-cum wet his fingers. He brought the sticky fluid up to her mouth. She sucked on his fingers.

"Put Daddy's dick in your mouth."

Her hot tongue licked off the last of the natural lubricant from his fingers. He didn't care that he was in Leona's house at that point. He pulled down his shorts and let his erection spring free, his balls felt heavy resting on the couch.

"Take care of me, baby," he said, not liking the begging tone in his voice. He pulled her t-shirt over her head and pushed her off of his lap. He was rough with her, his desperate need to finally have her mouth on him stopped him from caring about gentle nudging. Not with those big juicy tits out like that and her perfect lips hanging open, her pink tongue licking the corner of her mouth.

She widened her legs and the soft silky green shorts she wore rode up until they were wedged tight against her inner thighs. She stroked his dick with her hand. He would normally yank a woman's hair when she didn't do what he wanted right away, but there was nothing to grab on Yani, her crispy as fuck fade sleek and gorgeous, her eyes set on his.

"C'mon girl, suck this dick, stop playin'."

He slapped at her face playfully and she ducked back from him, her thumb gliding over his glans with slow deliberation. They both watched him drip from his slit a copious amount of lubricant and she just kept fingering his wide spongy tip as it slid across her thumb and fell to the floor.

Her left hand lifted up her left breast and she squeezed it, then brought it against his dick. She let his tip rub against her nipple and more fluid dripped from him.

"Yani…"

He squirmed on the couch and her eyes stayed on his, watching him, but she still didn't give him what he wanted. Her silence unnerved him but he was hypnotized by his slick glans circling her areola.

"Fuck!"

Her mouth slipped around the top of his glans and sat there, her tongue pressed against the underside of it, resting on his frenulum and giving light pulses that made the sensitive skin tingle. He thought she would insert the rest of his length in her throat, but no, she stayed right on that glans, her tongue beginning to glide around the corona, that equally sensitive ridge surrounding the head before she dipped the tip of her tongue into his opening. Pre-cum pooled onto her tongue and her wet mouth spit into his weeping slit. Soft flicks into that hole made him clutch the cushion of the couch.

"Ah…damn…"

Erik's toes bunched up and his legs jerked with his thighs.

She let a stream of saliva drip all over his shaft as her tongue ran down the underside of his erection and suckled his balls, one by one until she had them glossy with her spit. She licked back up his length and engulfed the head again and just suckled it. Her tongue kept spreading spit around the head keeping it nice and slick. Trailing her nails past his heavily groomed pubic hairs, Yani rested her left hand on his stomach and twirled her index finger around his belly button.

She had his nuts jumping, each ball sack moving up and down. He'd never had his balls react so strongly like that and he had no control over their movement. The heels of his feet dug into the carpet because his slides had been kicked off the moment she licked the seam of his sack with that honey tongue.

His dick deepened in color and he watched his balls rise up tight.

"Hmmmmph!" he groaned when she finally took him deeper in her mouth.

His eyes darted toward the hallway opening, but it was still quiet in the back.

He tried pushing her head further down on his length, but she brushed his hand away, allowing her lips to suction down his dick so slow that he grabbed a throw pillow and shoved against his mouth to keep from yelling out loud.

By the time she was bobbing her head and slurping all over his shit, he gave up on controlling the situation. When she changed the pace back to slow and sloppy wet, he was ready to slay giants for her with his bare hands.

"Whatchu doin' to me baby?" he choked out with the pillow near his waist just in case.

Her eyes challenged him.

"Sucking your dick like you want," she said sliding her lips under the head.

"You sucking the fuck out this dick."

"You like it?"

"Fuck yeah…ohhh…don't stop…don't stop…shit baby, I wanna stick this dick in your pussy right now…stretch out them fat pussy lips…"

She released her mouth from him, her bottom lip wet with saliva from his shaft. His face contorted with pleasure and he was afraid to move or else she would do something to make him wake the household up. He gripped himself and slapped her lips with the weight of his thickness.

"Open that mouth back up…open up! Shit…got my balls still jumping…"

She did as he demanded and he thrust deep into her throat, moving his ass to the edge of the couch so he could hold her head with both hands and fuck her mouth hard. She pushed back from him when she gagged and he finally felt like he had the upper hand. Her lips and neck were drenched with spit and more of the pre-cum he released in her mouth. His balls were raised up tighter.

Yani plucked at her nipples, taking her time, gazing down at her own fingers pulling on the stiff tips. She jiggled their heft for him, and just like that, he gave in again, falling back on the couch and holding his dick up for her.

"Gimme that mouth…"

Her fingers slipped down her shorts and he could hear how wet she was down there between her folds. He shut his eyes thinking of her on his bed back at the compound as he fisted himself. Her tongue licked his balls, trailed up his length again and then she deep throated him.

Erik sat there and let his body take in all the sensations that cascaded all over him. Every nerve seemed to be vibrating in his skin and his erection was even more swollen.

"Take this fat black dick in your mouth, girl."

He felt the vibration of her groan around his dick, the veins pulsing in her mouth.

"Yeah, you like that. You like this fat dick in your mouth. Say it!"

She stared up at him, all treacly and innocent-looking in the face like she didn't have long inches of veiny black cock packing her throat. Her lips peeled back from him.

"I like this fat black dick in my mouth."

"This the only dick you gon' suck from now on. Hear me?"

"Mmmhmmmm."

"You taking it deep, baby. Make a nigga feel that shit…yeah."

She was shameless with her throat game.

"I'm gon' fuck the everlasting shit out of you…wait 'til I get you in my bed…beating them walls up. Packing that pussy deep. Sucking me so good, baby. You want Daddy to bust all in your mouth…all in that mouth. So fucking nasty wit it, Yani…so fucking nasty…oh shit baby! Oh fuck!"

Her neck was working his fat dick like there was no tomorrow. He couldn't hold out much longer. The heavy surge of semen was hot at the root of his cock. He gripped the couch pillow again ready to spring it up to his mouth.

"Yani…Yani…fuck…baby…I'm cumming…I'm cumming baby…swallow Daddy's cum…you nasty bitch…giving you this big load baby…Yani!" His throat felt red and raw from trying to keep his voice down without having to smother his face with the pillow. He wanted to watch her take his nut.

Erik's hips bucked and Yani swallowed his cum. When he hit the back of her throat, he pulled out and jerked off until more thick ropes spurted all over her face.

"Ah, yeah…that's it right there…damn girl…dassit!"

He slapped his dick on her face, the shaft still stiff as it smeared more cum across her lips and chin.

"Fuck, baby. I drenched your whole face…"

Yani opened her mouth and let his cum dribble down onto her breasts where her fingers rubbed it all over her chest. Erik bent down and picked her up, putting her side-saddle on his lap again.

"I better clean up my face—"

"Nah. Take your shorts off."

"Killmonger—"

He yanked on her shorts and the force of his grip startled her.

"Take them off."

He wasn't asking her. She looked over her shoulder.

"Nobody is waking up. Do what I tell you to do."

Her eyes widened, and for a second, he thought she was going to get up from his lap. He tugged on the waistband of her shorts and she eventually wiggled out of them. She only had her bra on twisted down her shoulders and not even covering her breasts.

He shoved open her thighs and let his index finger rest on her engorged clit. He felt it twitching under his finger.

"Don't move," he said.

The slow compact circles made her whimper.

"Killmonger—"

"Shut the fuck up."

His left hand rested around her waist and his right hand played with clit and only her clit. His head rested on her right breast but his eyes stared at her clit.

"Fat pussy," he hissed. Her outer labia were so puffy. He wanted to bite her pussy lips, mark that shit up with his slugs, make her know she was all his from now on.

She wiggled her wide backside on his thighs.

"Yani…I said don't fucking move."

He added his ring finger and circled her clit even slower.

Her thighs shook and she tried her best not to move anything more than that, but his delicate fondling made her pussy wetter, he watched her pink slit wink open spewing her stickiness out onto his lap. He started making zig-zag patterns on her nub along with the circling. Her ass cheeks clenched.

"Killmonger…please…."

"Nah. This is what you did to me. You give it, ya gotta take it too, girl. Thought I told you to shut your fucking mouth…"

Yani threw her head back and her lips curled up in a pout. His teeth grabbed onto her nipple and bit hard enough to make her gasp and stare at him. His left hand slapped her ass hard, the sound echoed in the room and her pussy spasmed.

"Got my cum all over your face. I like that shit. Get used to it. I'ma put it all over you when I get you alone—"

"We're alone now—"

He slapped her clit and her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open.

"Stop being so fucking hard-headed."

He kept teasing her tight bud, never letting his various strokes go faster or slower, just the constant pressure that had her pushing hard sighs from her throat, made her chest heave so that her breasts jiggled, and forced her sweaty body to heat up even more against him. His dick was brutally hard again.

"Look at your pussy," he said.

Her eyes glanced down and her inner lips were covered in her slick.

"Won't need no lube when I get up in there."

Her chest heaved again and he kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She let go of his lips and looked down at her pussy again, his fingers constant sensual torture on her engorged clit.

"Killmonger!"

He was ready to scold her again, slap her vulva, but her desperate exhalation of breath caught him off guard as a bit of colorless fluid sprayed out of her urethra and her vaginal opening throbbed uncontrollably.

"I'm cumming…I'm cumming…I'm cumming…Gawd…" Her soft breathiness made his eyes roll back. Her voice was so sexy when she tried to be quiet and discreet. Her right hand clutched his shoulder with her nails digging into his skin.

Her face dropped onto his shoulder as she bit into his neck to keep from screaming out loud. Her orgasm seemed to last a long time before her teeth let him go and she slumped against him. He had a handful of sloppy wet pussy and his stiff dick was ready to beat down her walls. He reached for his shorts and realized he forgot to bring his wallet. The wallet and the two condoms he had hastily stuffed into it were left sitting on his bed when he had changed from jeans to shorts after working on Klaue's arm.

Erik laid back horizontally on the couch and pulled Yani down next to him spooning her. Rattled from the way she came on his hand he pressed his fresh erection between her thick cheeks and humped her like he was fucking her pussy. His body temperature was scorching and he felt sweat glide down his back and ass. His hands clutched her breasts and he dropped his scruffy cheek next to her face.

"I wanna be in your pussy, baby," he gasped, pumping against her fat ass.

Yani pressed back hard against him, flexing her cheeks so that her ass gripped his dick.

A noise distracted her.

"Twyla's up," Yani whispered. They could see the faint light in the hallway coming from her room.

They heard the soft stop and start cries of Sydette.

Erik kept pumping, his hips grinding his stiffness harder against Yani's ass.

"I have to take care of her—"

"Yani…wait a minute…lemme finish…I'm 'bout to bust—" "Killmonger, my baby is crying—"

"Hold on—"

She tried pulling away from him and he held her in a vice grip.

"I'm cumming baby!" he hissed in her ear.

Hot spurts shot on her back and dribbled down onto the curve of her ass.

"Goddamn," he groaned, rubbing her behind.

He released her and she ran to the bathroom with her clothes in her hand. Reaching for his clothes, he dressed quickly and sat back up on the couch. The cushion was damp so he padded into the kitchen to find paper towels to wipe up the mess they made. They should've put a towel down before they started.

Yani's body darted into her bedroom and she was gone for a long time. Erik cleaned up the couch then flipped channels on the TV. There was nothing on so he sat quietly waiting for her.

She returned carrying Sydette who had tiny jewel-like tears sitting on her cheeks. Yani took her into the kitchen and returned with a small round teething ring from the freezer. The baby's lips suckled the cold ring.

"She's in pain," Yani said.

"Baby teeth coming in are tough," he said.

Yani wouldn't sit next to him, just cradled Sydette while the baby gnawed on the ring.

"Come sit down," he said making sure he sat in the damp spot on the couch.

"I'm going to be up with her for a while…so…"

"I should leave then?"

"Yeah, it's painful for her and it'll be boring for you to stay—"

"I don't mind—"

"I'm tired. And I need to focus on her."

Her tone was neutral. He had messed up.

"I wasn't trying to keep you from her—"

"I have to deal with this now, Killmonger."

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"I have to work."

"What time—"

"I'll call you when I can see you, okay?"

He stood up and walked over to her. He looked down at Sydette and stroked her head.

"Hey, Sweet Pea. You'll have all your teeth soon and this won't hurt anymore," he said.

It pained him to see her with tears on her face and to hear the pitiful sounds she made. He stroked her cheek and then stroked Yani's arm.

"Goodnight," he said.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek, grew bold and kissed her lips. She accepted it but pulled back quickly when Sydette started crying harder.

Walking out of the apartment, he thought of how he should've let her go to the baby. His need for pleasure and release made him ignore her need to handle her business. He'd never been with a woman with a child before. Actively avoided it. Maybe if he had seen her with her baby first, he would've ignored her.

He kept replaying his actions. He didn't keep her from Sydette that long. Maybe two minutes? And Twyla was in the room with the baby, so if it was a real emergency, an adult was there to handle it. He shook his head as he drove to the compound. He hoped she would call him.

###

Yani finished the Eco Tour intro to a group of thirty tourists. A Carnival Valor cruise ship had arrived for a six-hour excursion at the island, and this tour would take five hours with lunch. A full package tour of kayaking, hiking, and snorkeling.

"Let's go!" she said with true enthusiasm as she led the group to put on their vests and pick out their kayaks.

She sprayed sun-block on her arms and put some on her face as she slipped her high-def work shades on. She did another headcount and was shocked to see Erik climbing into a kayak with her group. She didn't even see him while she gave the intro talk.

"Where did you come from?"

Erik had his own wrap around shades on and his smile was seductive.

"Been here the whole time. I was standing in the back when you were talking."

"I didn't see you."

"I was to your right near the tree."

She didn't know if she felt annoyed or elated to see him at her job. She told him she would call him.

"I wasn't trying to jump on your tour, I just missed the earlier one by ten minutes, and I only took this one last minute. I'm not stalking you. I promise."

Taylor, Yani's co-guide on the trip, was already leading the kayakers out on the first leg to Cas Cay.

That damn smile again. Those dimples. And that body.

"Don't distract me," she said.

The paddle out to the cay was pleasant, and Yani brought up the rear of the group making sure no stragglers got stuck if they had trouble maneuvering their kayaks. Erik ignored her and spent time chatting with some women from Atlanta, two Black twins with cute braids piled on their heads and light brown skin that was slathered with an oily sunblock.

The three of them laughed a lot and Yani caught snatches of their conversation as Erik asked about neighborhoods and food places. Kayaking through the mangroves was filled with excited chatter and by the time they began the hike on the Cay two hours later, Yani was feeling a bit testy with Erik acting like she didn't exist at all. He partnered up with the twins again on the hike and when she tried to stay near them, Taylor had to keep reminding her to stay in the back for folks who had to use the restroom and needed to catch up without getting lost.

After a packed lunch they went snorkeling for the final part of the tour. The protected clear waters had people oohing and ahhing at colorful fish and when one of the women with Erik squealed out loud and jumped on him, Yani felt her blood pressure go up. The woman was clutching his biceps, her fingers on his keloids since he was topless.

"It's just a sea turtle!" Erik called out to everyone. The squealing twin took a long time letting go of him.

The turtle swam out to sea as the tourists stayed a respectful distance watching it as they snorkeled.

Erik's eyes sought out hers and something on her face made him dog paddle over to her. He looked her over and splashed a little bit of water on her.

"What's that face for?" he asked.

"Why you so touchy-feely?"

"Touchy-feely?"

His face scrunched up with confusion and then he smiled.

"She jumped on me."

She splashed water back at him.

"You must've learned a lot from your two new best friends, huh?"

"Girl, stop…"

He leaned in to kiss her.

"I'm still at work," she said backstroking away from him.

He watched her with a smirk on his lips and followed her.

"How's Sweet Pea?"

"Doing a little better. She just has to endure. We all went through it."

"Were you upset with me last night?"

Yani's eyes took in who was around them.

"You have to understand something. Sydette comes before anything. If I have to go to her, I don't care what I'm doing, I'm going to her." "Got it. Won't happen again."

He wiped his eyes and she led him further from the twins.

"Let me show you something," she said. She adjusted her tankini.

"You're at work though," he said.

"Shut up!" She said splashing water back at him.

She pulled her goggles and breathing tube back down and he did the same.

She swam over to a rock formation and pointed out some black and yellow rockfish. Erik gave her a thumbs up underwater and they saw more colorful beauties. His hand reached out and touched hers and she grabbed his hand and pulled him closer so she could see his eyes through his goggles. She lifted off the snorkel gear holding her breath and he did the same. She dived down deeper and he followed.

Baby barracudas swarmed in some mangrove roots and Erik was cautious as he swam next to her. They popped back up and his smile was bright.

"That was wavy," he said.

He treaded near her and gave her a kiss.

"People might see," she said.

"I don't care."

She kissed him back and before he could press up against her tighter, she shot away from him to return to the group.

The paddle ride back was nice mainly because Erik kept his kayak next to hers.

"You are great at this," he said, "I learned a lot."

"Good."

"I'm surprised you didn't become a marine biologist instead of a nurse. Water is your element."

"My parents used to say that."

"This job is physically taxing. You have to do this again when we get back?"

"No. We rotate. I led groups last week, and after this group is done, I'll help prep the kayaks for tonight. We do night time kayaking too."

"I should try that next time."

"It's fun."

Erik hung around as she bid the tour guests goodbye. When she was about to go clean the kayaks, he approached her. Some of her co-workers watched them.

"Call me when you have some free time," he said.

He left her standing by the dock and she wanted to leave with him. Being near him was difficult, her need to touch him was overriding her need to figure out how she would handle sex with him. When he first arrived at her Aunt's house, her clit felt like it had a heartbeat of its own. Just his arm around her was enough to make her start sweating with nervousness. She wanted him so bad, and she could tell he was going to push her to do things his way. And she wanted to do it. When he made her sit on his lap, she could not keep her mouth shut, could not keep herself from responding to his touches. When he struck her backside and her clit, she was sure her family could hear them. They couldn't mess around like that anymore in her Aunt's place. There was no such thing as simple petting with him. Or quiet make-out sessions. He was beyond that.

She finished her shift and went home to leftover peas and rice and baked chicken. She comforted Sydette with her teething ring and fell asleep before she called Erik to tell him she was home.

Working the morning shift at Eco Tours, Yani was finished by three and picked up Sydette before heading to Kmart to pick up some sales on diapers and new baby clothes. She strolled up and down the aisles with Sydette sitting in the shopping cart picking out items for the house that her Aunt would probably need.

Standing in line, she became aware of two women staring at her from behind.

"Is that Big C's baby for real?"

The woman asking had a scarf over her hair, her eyes unkind as the woman next to her stared at Sydette. Yani stood closer to the cart blocking their view of her daughter.

"You're just ignoring me?" the woman in the scarf said.

"I don't know you," Yani said turning her back toward them.

"That baby not his. Don't even look like him," the other woman slurred under her breath.

Yani started placing her items on the conveyor belt. Scarf woman took out her phone.

"Don't take pictures of my baby," Yani snapped.

The woman glared at Yani.

"I'm not hurting her—"

"Mind yuh business or leave the store."

The store clerk handling Yani's items cocked her head toward the two women, her voice loud and firm.

"Mind yours," the other woman said.

Yani picked up Sydette and kept her face away from the women.

"Do I need to call security?" said the clerk.

The two women rolled their eyes and Yani paid for her items.

"Mel, can you help this customer with her bags, please?"

Another male clerk who walked in with a few carts walked over and took Yani's things at the sales clerk's request.

"Thank you," Yani said.

Yani kept her hand over Sydette's face as she followed the young man out. No telling if other people recognized her and wanted to snap candid shots. She led the helper to her car and he placed her bags in the trunk as she put Sydette in her car seat. When she was alone, she sat quietly in the driver's seat. She was accustomed to people approaching her, but not people focusing in on her baby. It worried her.

She scrolled her social media feed and there was nothing new really. A few photos of her and Kendall under the hashtag "Juvay". A post about "Fiyahbun" being re-mixed in London with another artist adding a bar or two. Kendall was probably over the moon and Yani wondered who the other artist would be.

She checked a few other hashtags with her name and it was mainly photos of her with fans of the album, and a couple of old pictures of her and Chez in happier times. She saw the two women who were behind her in the line leave the store. She still felt unnerved. She would have to start keeping Sydette covered, or maybe go to stores later at night or early in the morning. She could handle things when it was just directed at her. But not her baby.

If she was to be with Killmonger, they would have to limit their public interactions, especially if Sydette was with them.

###

Eight days.

Eight days since Erik swam with her at Eco Tours, and eight days since she had seen him in person.

Her time had been spent working her two jobs and caring for Sydette. She left him messages twice but kept missing his calls because she would be traveling between Eco-Tours and the restaurant. His concern when he did talk to her on the third day was to make sure she was rested and able to spend quality time with Sydette, while also studying up for school in the fall. He said he was working on some things for Klaue that took up most of his time, and she missed talking to him in person. By that sixth day, he stopped leaving text or voice messages.

The eighth day of not hearing from him filled her with dismay. It was a rare day off for her, and she took the time to visit the clinic to get tested, leaving Sydette with Kendall for two hours. She spent the rest of the day looking after Sydette and checking her cell every fifteen minutes until she finally packed the baby up in her car and drove to the compound.

Standing in front of the gate in the dark, she hit the intercom button several times. She called him on the cell three times and still had no response. He didn't even have her on read for her texts.

Maybe he left the island again.

She pressed the intercom again and felt an overwhelming sadness come over her. Her lip trembled and she felt her eyes welling up.

Maybe he had changed his mind about her. Maybe he was off with someone else who didn't work all the time or have a baby to care for. Maybe he ghosted her and—

"Hey. Yani. What are you doing here? You have the baby with you?"

He stared at her face from the security vid screen.

"Hold on," he said.

She heard a loud buzz and the main gate rolled open.

She didn't bother to drive the car in, just walked in with the baby in her arms. Making her way to the main house, Erik met her halfway down.

"What's going on?" he asked.

He wore comfortable sweats with slides and some light green protective goggles rested on top of his head.

"Yani?"

She pressed her face into his chest.

He took Sydette from her arms and she buried her face more. He threw an arm around her.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"I just want to see you," she said, "I thought you were gone."

"Ah, girl. I'm still here—"

"You never answer your phone or return my calls—"

"I've been working non-stop. So have you—"

She felt stupid for bawling into his shirt.

"Come on," he said.

He walked her and the baby down into Klaue's main house and sat her on the balcony lounger facing the ocean. He held Sydette and the baby sat quietly looking up at Yani.

Yani wiped her eyes and sat back into the cushiony softness of the lounger.

"It's been eight days since I've seen you. I've been working…I went to the clinic…I've been prepping for school. Sydette still has teeth pain…"

"It's hard doing everything by yourself. I know. I wanted to give you space to handle your life. I don't want to intrude or put pressure on you. I'm new to this type of relationship, still trying to figure out where I fit in on your schedule. I wanted to see you too. Don't think I didn't."

"I want to make time for you—"

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Yani."

Erik pulled her in closer and she rested her cheek on his shoulder. Sydette reached for her and Yani picked her up and held her as she leaned into Erik.

"It's tough. It's more crowded at my Aunt's house and I'm tired all the time."

They watched the slow lazy waves of the high tide roll in. Erik rubbed her arm and Sydette sat with her head against her chest.

"I'm just so tired…"

"Rest then," he said.

It was the last thing she heard before her eyes fell shut.

###

Water.

Sea Birds.

Fresh ocean air.

Yani's eyes popped open and she sat up fast and disoriented.

"Sydette?"

Her eyes ogled the room she was in and for a moment she thought she was dreaming because she didn't recognize her bedroom.

She wasn't in her bedroom.

She was in Erik's bedroom.

Wearing only her t-shirt that she drove over in, Yani pulled the covers back and stepped off the plush mattress and silk sheets. The wall to wall windows were partially open and she could smell clean air rushing off of the sea.

Shit. It was morning.

"Killmonger!"

She rushed out of the master bedroom and found Sydette sitting back out on the balcony with Erik. They both sat on yoga mats facing the water. Erik had his hands out in open palm prayer reception, and Sydette was right next to him, sitting up and watching his face. Her teething ring was clutched in her fingers.

Yani stopped to watch them.

She could hear Erik whispering morning prayers in Arabic, his hair tied up, and his blue linen shirt matching the morning blue of the sky.

"Mama!"

Sydette crawled to Yani as soon as she saw her, and Erik laughed at how fast she could get across the floor.

Yani reached down and picked the baby up.

Erik stood and stared at her. For a long time.

When he walked into the house, he stroked her cheek.

"What time is it?" she asked.

She was disoriented, didn't even know where her cell was, and Klaue didn't keep clocks in the house. Our Lady's Manor was to be a timeless place to relax for him.

"Nine."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," she said.

"You were exhausted. I put you to bed. Sydette and I were right there with you."

"I left all her stuff—"

"I brought it in from your car when I drove it into the garage last night."

He took Sydette away from her again, and her daughter squealed and played with Erik's locs.

"Go back to rest. You can sleep as long as you want. I let Twyla know where you were."

Sleep.

God, that's all she wanted to do.

"I'll watch Sydette."

"It's past her morning meal," Yani said.

"She's good. She ate already. There was a jar of pears and peas in your baby bag. She's been bathed, diapers changed, the whole nine yards. Go on back to bed. If she needs you, I'll bring her to you."

She hesitated.

"Are we keeping you from your work?"

"Nah. Today will be an off day. All day."

She nodded and his eyes were gazing at her again in a strange way.

"What is it?"

"I want you to make a decision."

"What kind of decision?"

"I want you and the baby to stay here with me. I'll hire you to be my personal housekeeper and cook. But you don't have to do anything. Just take care of Sydette and do what you want to do before you start school. I'll pay you whatever you make at your jobs…double. I know you like the Eco Tours place a lot, so if you want to work there once or twice a week, I'll take care of Sydette, or take her to your Aunt's while you work outside the compound—"

"Killmonger, that's—"

"Let me give you this. Okay? That way we'll have time together when you want. And you don't have to worry about me not calling. I'll be right here with you."

"We're still…you're asking me to live with you…with a baby…"

"I don't want to see you crying at the front gate worried about me."

"That's huge. What if—"

"If you think I'm moving too fast, you and the baby can have any of the other two houses for yourselves. You make up your own schedule. I'll need you here to watch the place anyway when I deliver something to Klaue next month. Or maybe sooner. Your Aunt will be gone, so who else will I have? Think of it as your regular Klaue job if it makes you more comfortable with the arrangement."

She watched his face.

This man was something else.

"Any of the other two houses?"

"Your choice. Move in today if you want."

"I want to think about this."

"You know you don't have to think too hard, Yani."

Her heart palpitated.

Live here? In paradise? Beach all to herself? A big soft bed. Peace and quiet. Her baby swimming in a pool with her and being able to be in the sea whenever they wanted to be. Together. Sweet Pea crawling in the soft grass and being around trees and flowers. Getting to know Jerome. Having a mother who was relaxed and Lord Jesus…present for hours. Her baby deserved that.

"I want to take Sydette with me. I want to figure this out. Really make sure, y'know?"

Erik nodded.

She held Sydette close to her on Erik's bed. The giant king-sized luxury bed put Sydette to sleep within minutes.

Yani played with her daughter's beads.

She would stop working at the restaurant. She would stop working there any way by September, but if Erik was paying her double, no sense staying there. It was a night gig and she could be home at night from now on. Eco-Tours was a favorite place. She could work there once or twice a week just for fun and to get out of the house and meet new people.

What was holding her back? Why couldn't she say yes? And God, he was offering her a house of her own for three months. All to herself. She could have the house with the pool. A house she cleaned and prepped for other people since she was fourteen.

Erik's voice carried through the open windows.

"Bismillaahir Rahmaanir Raheem, Alhamdu lillaahi Rabbil 'aalameen…"

Yani closed her eyes.

Take what he wanted to give. Take it. It could be a vacation with her baby. Once school started, she would be so busy and so focused on doing well. Why not create a deeper bond with her child right now with this man's help?

Erik walked back into the room quietly and unwrapped his hair. He folded up the white cloth and placed it inside a bureau drawer.

"Killmonger," she whispered.

She held her hand out to him. He crawled onto the bed and spooned around her as she held onto Sydette. His cheek rested against hers and she took comfort in the weight and warmth of him surrounding her and the baby.

His breathing slowed down, matching the even pace of her own.

"Stay," he whispered.

"I will."

Chapter 12

Tag List:

@fd-writes​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone

@allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky

@raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling

@chaneajoyyy @sweetestdream92 @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @hennessystevens-udaku

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry  @honeytoffee @meilintheempressofdreams

@tyees

[quirkless-and-embarrassed]

Regarding the character ask meme: I'd love to see your take on Tamaki!

HE IS ONE OF MY FAVES. As you can probably tell by my icon. I’m sorry this took me so long, but I couldn’t resist beginning the new season as I was working on this, aaand geeking out over the anime took up more time than I thought 😂

Answers under the cut because I could not resist including lots of images and because whoa this really got away from me. Spoilers for season 4 of the anime!

Favorite things about him:

tl;dr adorable+disaster+badass = instant KO

i. He’s never believed that the quirk makes the hero. Granted, it’s from his own insecurity that he believes that, but even when Mirio’s quirk was a liability, Amajiki looked up to him as a great hero. It’s especially refreshing to see because everyone else places so much emphasis on what their quirk can do.

ii. Also, his insecurity. Amajiki describes himself as a plain, boring person so terrified of failure that his brain goes blank when he even considers it. He’s not blush-y or stutter-y or those other tics associated with cutely shy characters—his face is kinda awkwardly inexpressive…he actually looks constipated when he attempts to address class 1-a during his debut…and I get a sense of stillness from him, like someone who freezes up instead of fidgeting. But he’s not fishing for encouragement. He’s likely to bluntly, unhappily shoot down any attempt to praise him because that makes the pressure even worse! No “thank you for believing in me, I’ll do my best,” no, “oh you’re too kind, that’s not true,” he’s like: “no, just…no. shit. what now? I’m not Mirio.”

iii. His relationship with Mirio. What he admires most about Mirio is how, when he goes down, Mirio always rises back up—like the sun—filled with warmth instead of with self-recrimination. He draws people in and fills them with energy. Amajiki painfully believes he isn’t capable of any of that, but he trusts Mirio, and Mirio tells him that there’s plenty of warmth to him even if Amajiki can’t sense it in himself, and even if Amajiki is filled by fear at the idea of failure, he, too, energizes Mirio when he faces his problems anyways. They talk, build each other up, and accept each others’ feelings. Amajiki still wants to be like Mirio (cue “imitation is the sincerest form of…”), but he’s learning that even though he’ll never be Mirio, he and Mirio are alike in the ways that matter most.

iv. it’s as gay as the day is long.

v. How steadfast he is. Given his anxiety, it’s not immediately obvious, but Amajiki’s doubts and insecurities center on his capabilities and self-worth—not on his principles or about what needs to be done. When he’s worried about something, he doesn’t even try to hide it, there’s something very forthright and grounded about the way he struggles to confront the current obstacle.

vi. He’s such a goofball when he’s alone with Mirio. Here he is pretending to sever his thumb. Look at that smile. And Mirio’s habit of pumping his arms when he’s excited is nearly as cute.

vii. His hero name is awesome. Suneater. Talk about names that represent your ideal self…

viii. Amajiki doesn’t win his battle against Overhaul’s thugs by discovering his confidence and whipping out a super move (which, incidentally, he attempts via flashback+miritama feels and it fails resoundingly). He wins with the power of friendship, but it’s not the typical Power of Friendship spiel.

He fights three side-characters whose names I never remember, so I call them the garbage trio: theft quirk guy (similar to how Amajiki “steals” the forms of what he eats), a guy who manifests crystals, and gluttony guy. Funnily enough, the three have terrible self-esteem issues! They’re fanatically loyal to Overhaul because he’s willing to use them as sacrificial pawns, and being a pawn is better than being rejected as garbage (which each has as his tragic past).

So the narrative presents Amajiki with two types of bonds. Will he identify with the trio’s loyalty to Overhaul, founded on their sense of worthlessness? Or will he identify with their loyalty to one another, founded on their empathy for each others’ tragic pasts? Essentially: what kind of relationship does he have with Mirio?

It’s not even a contest. Amajiki immediately and fully rejects the Overhaul-brand loyalty as brainwashing and focuses on the bond he understands, the “friends don’t eat friends” bond.

So Amajiki recognizes his opponents’ humanity when even they couldn’t. Even though they thought of themselves as nothing more than Overhaul’s tools, Amajiki intuited that the bonkers guy who shouts “eat! eat! eat!” wouldn’t bite his crystal friend when Amajiki used him as a shield. In doing this, Amajiki proved that their lives have more value to each other more than they ever will to Overhaul. He explicitly praises them for trusting each other—something they can take pride in because they forged it themselves—and ultimately removes their masks, symbolically freeing them from Overhaul’s ownership.

It was a cool idea because usually I see the protagonist summon up reserves of power he didn’t know he had in order to protect his comrades, but when Amajiki was inspired by remembering how Mirio believes in him, it doesn’t actually work because the garbage trio calls on their own bond to counter his power-up. Or usually it’s the antagonist who turns the protagonists’ love for each other against them, and here it was reversed. Except Amajiki used their friendship against them not out of contempt for their bond, “oh your love makes you so weak and predictable,” but out of respect for it, “love is what makes you strong, and I know that because it makes me strong, too.”

ix. His weird, pointy ears.

x. His dub voice acting: it’s stellar. Props to Aaron Dismuke, highly recommend watching his episodes in the dub.

Least favorite things about him:

His first name, Tamaki. It just never sticks in my mind—Amajiki is much more distinctive. (Apparently I have some sort of big three mental block, because I can rarely remember Mirio’s and Nejire’s last names, either.)

He didn’t really grow or learn anything from his fight against the garbage trio. He was already confident in his bond with Mirio, and the whole reason he volunteered to fight the trio was that he thought he could win, so it was basically a high-stakes training exercise in sticking to his guns. I think the purpose of the fight was to teach the audience that he and Mirio are a positive foil for bakudeku, providing another way Mirio is superior to Midoriya + amping Mirio up before his tragedy-slash-victory, so it’s a shame Amajiki’s most major scene wasn’t about himself.

I wish he had more screen time, I wish he had more development, I wish we got his reaction to Mirio losing his quirk, I wish had scenes with more characters than just Mirio, Kirishima, and Fat Gum, etc. The usual gripes about faves who are side characters.

Favorite lines:

Ch132 – I love how forthright he is lol. No attempt to put up a strong front.

Ch132 – When the thug Amajiki’s fighting shouts at him, his feelings are hurt 😂 also bonus for kiri trying to comfort him

Ch135 – cool as a cucumber

And two I won’t include the panels for…

His badass line in 141, “I might not understand your rage. Your grief. Everything that led you here…but I know all about solid bonds! And my friends don’t use each other! Because friends don’t eat friends.”

and when he collapses after beating the garbage trio:*THUD* Huh…why’s the floor so close to my face?doofus

BROTPs:

Kirishima!! His pep talks to Amajiki while they were on patrol were really cute. I can only imagine how he handles Kirishima and Tetsutetsu! He’s totally the third wheel, and normally he’s happy to be! But sometimes he watches the two hype each other up and gets depressed about it because he’s never that positive and encouraging. Sometimes Fat Gum leaves Amajiki in charge and it seriously stresses him out because Tetsutetsu occasionally charges off to do his own thing and it’s a whole ordeal to rein him in.

And oh shit, Nejire’s personality is just as cute as Amajiki’s, I’d love to see more of the two of them hanging out. (and just…more of Nejire in general, please. Her debut was so funny and then Horikoshi did nothing with her.)

In class-a, I’m curious to see how Amajiki and Yaoyorozu would get along. They’re both gifted students with confidence issues and quirks that depend on eating, so it would be nice to see them hit it off. I’d also be interested to see Amajiki and Bakugo interact, especially with Kirishima there.

Also, since Amajiki has such a preoccupation with exuberant, confident people, I’d love to see him somehow meet Inasa.

This isn’t a brotp, but I’ll bet Nighteye intimidated the shit out of Amajiki… Mirio told Amajiki endless anecdotes about Nighteye but it didn’t work, till the day he dies Amajiki will still get clammy any time he thinks of Nighteye’s glare or the purported tickle machine.

Again not a brotp, but I’d love to see Amajiki vs. Shigaraki. That sounds like an awesome fight. (…ideally before Shigaraki gets all OP and only Midoriya can beat him.)

OTP:

Mirio.

NOTP:

Nobody comes to mind.

Random headcanons:

Most of the food Amajiki eats goes into his quirk; he doesn’t properly extract its caloric and nutritional value, and if he’s not careful, he could accidentally become malnourished. (It also makes it difficult to put on muscle.) So he eats a ton, to make sure he has enough to fuel both his quirk and his body, and he’s self-conscious at how much more he eats than other people.

When Amajiki vomits, his quirk is weakened to the point it’s basically null. He has to take a break and chow down before he can use it again. …Re-ingesting the puke is…not an option.

Clothing is a big issue for his hero work. He could develop a really powerful fighting style, one that involves producing limbs from his back and torso, if he were willing to wear a little less…but that’s never going to happen. Mirio can run around naked, but Amajiki can’t!

I don’t know if this is a translation quirk or fanon or what, but I adore it when Nejire calls Amajiki “chicken-hearted” in fanfiction. It’s a short, cute joke about his quirk and I wholeheartedly hc it. I also think Amajiki is closer to Nejire than Mirio is.

Amajiki doesn’t deal with his self-esteem issues by minimizing his challenges. He doesn’t make cheap compromises like, “ok, I know I can do this because it’s so easy even someone like me can do it.” He goes for broke, for being the spectacular hero Suneater, because even if he can’t perceive his own positive qualities, he believes that they’re there.

One of the (many) reasons Amajiki admires Mirio is that Mirio admires him, and Amajiki wants to be able to like himself, too.

When it comes down to it, his self-worth is nowhere near as desperately poor as the garbage trio because he knows true friendship. Maybe if he’d never met Mirio, Amajiki would have been susceptible to their sort of devotion, but now he never will be because Mirio’s encouraged him to value himself. Amajiki won’t accept a bond that relies on degrading yourself—which is important to know, since Amajiki constantly compares himself to Mirio. But Amajiki’s sense of inferiority is chronic without being proportionately deep. He adopted the name Suneater to declare himself Mirio’s equal, and his climactic line of the garbage trio battle, “friends don’t eat friends,” is one that asserts equality and puts his quirky spin on it to show he’s made the principle his own. Amajiki may not like himself but he doesn’t let it get in the way of taking his place as Mirio’s peer.

Amajiki’s parents are also anxious people.

Mirio is his neighbor at the UA dorms. It’s perfect because Mirio can permeate their the shared wall and they can hang out after curfew. (Mirio keeps a pair of sweatpants in Amajiki’s room for those occasions lol.) Nejire is jealous and always talks about gate-crashing, but she never gets around to it. Even after Mirio loses his quirk, his sweatpants stay in Amajiki’s room because neither of them can quite bring themselves to give those times up.

I am a sucker for making characters’ quirks reflect something fundamental about their hearts, so here’s my take on manifest. Amajiki manifests what he eats, meaning he absorbs from his environment and re-creates it in his own style. It’s not imitation, since Amajiki with one cow hoof and one tentacle, kicking ass, resembles neither a cow or an octopus, but he takes the best from what’s around him and reinvents it. “Suneater”? Thanks to how his friendship with Mirio gave him a stable, nourishing environment, he’s absorbed his favorite of Mirio’s traits and manifests them in his own way, as his own strength, because as even name of his quirk implies—manifestation makes latent qualities visible.

Like Bakugo, Amajiki could have resented Mirio for his strengths; like the garbage trio, he could have let his failures convince him that he’s worthless; but Amajiki consistently makes the best of the cards he’s dealt, even though it involves plenty of doubt and self-flagellation that could lead him down a darker path…but don’t. He’s greater than his demons.

Unpopular opinion:

Amajiki’s shy, but…not that shy. He gets like stiffly shy.

Amajiki still has a ways to go before he’s ready to date Mirio. (Not sure what’s the popular opinion on this.)

I really wish class 1-a versus Mirio had been class 1-a versus Mirio and Amajiki. It would have been so cool to see what amazing teamwork they had and how their quirks were compatible.

Song I associate with him:

Titanium—absolutely. I like the versions by Sia, Boyce Avenue, and Kurt Schneider (I couldn’t choose). Circles by Veela reminds me of his spiraling anxiety. And, I can’t resist, so I’m adding Chasing the Sun by The Wanted on here.

Aaand my ship songs…Appreciated by Rixton, and All of Me by John Legend.

Favorite picture of him:

Ch141 – Ironclad certainty. I’m not even gonna apologize for the dimensions and the fact this is huge, just drink it in.

Ch132 – If this isn’t the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, I will never trust your judgment.

Ch152 – Unless it’s because this is the cutest.

Ch152 – When Mirio loses his quirk 💔

I’ve also answered these questions for Todoroki, Bakugo, Uraraka, Endeavor, Sir Nighteye, and Shinsou!

[sanguinarius-archive]

Hey! Could I get to know some of your headcanons about dickfigures/your designs for them? :D

ya ya sure!!!!

i already have my designs for them up if you havent seen, here they are!

as for headcanons idk how long this post will be so ill just add a read more for anyone who might not wanna scroll thru it all lol

red!!!!!

his real name is rowan bc i thought it was cute, also it means “little red one” which is eVEN BETTER

he’s nonbinary masc and bisexual! the self projection is REAL

he has adhd

most of my headcanons kinda flow into my own version of dick figures because i’m not very Satisfied with canon NJSJDNSKM so like. for example red doesn’t just kill people or whatever. he gets into fights and has scars and wears bandaids a lot bc of them

he graduated college with blue, he got a bachelor’s degree in fine arts (honestly idk how college works bc im a grade 10 baby so if thats like totally wrong just let me know also im. canadian so idk how american school system works LOL)

red got suspended a lot in high school but never expelled. mostly bc he got in fights that were mainly him protecting stacey from shitty people (he sees her as his sister so he was rlly protective) and the school wasnt really sure what else to do so they just. you know. suspended him a bunch of times hoping itd do something but it didnt

he hates his dad! reason being is bc when he was born, his dad was actually an alien able to disguise himself as human, so he wanted to take red back to his home planet cuz red turned out to be more powerful than anything his dad had ever seen. but red’s mom was like Nope, so she snuck out with him and his plush cat (kitty amazing) and they were never found. red is very close with his mom and is scared of his dad coming back someday

we know he canonically likes rlly loud music so im just gonna project here and say he’s a metalhead. at least, some form of it. he likes the alt scene music and industrial rock. examples being deftones, nine inch nails, skinny puppy, rage against the machine, kittie and others. it keeps him focused and calm

bLUE!!!

we know blue was bullied as a kid but i dont wanna say red also bullied him bc i feel like thats just wrong to me? MAYBE ITS NOT ACTUALLY but it just makes me sad so like. lets say red, being as protective as he is, stood up for blue a lot cuz he was like “oh this kid cant fight” so he knew what to do

blue dated pink for awhile but they mutually agreed to break up after blue realized this wasnt what he wanted (he came to the conclusion that he was gay, well, he knew for awhile but it was Internalized Homophobia)

he grew up in a very conservative family so to see the world completely differently by meeting red, ems (lt), pink and stacey was a very good thing for him. unfortunately even tho his family did love him, it was conditional so they stopped talking to him after he came out. thankfully he’d already graduated high school by that point

despite being emotional blue isn’t very good at understanding how he’s an emotional person. he’s able to distinct one feeling from another and analyze them, but it’s just... hard for him to kind of. process WHY he feels a certain way? which is what’s led to a lot of his struggles in getting closer with ppl

he loooves reading and writing we already know this but i mean come on. he also got a bachelor’s degree in english/ela. so he’s able to become a teacher ig but he doesn’t really want to? at least not for awhile yet

blue was ems’ first friend. at first he couldn’t understand why they had tics but decided he shouldn’t get into someone else’s business. he didn’t find it weird, just cool!

he and red would always pair up for projects if they had classes together!!!!!! blue would do the writing/research and red would do the illustrations. they always turned out really good even if it ended with red cramming it at the last minute

surprisingly hates broseph more than red. well i mean its not surprising, because broseph was always a huge DICK to him

blue’s real name is wyatt!!!!! i forget the meaning but i felt the sound of it and the meaning fit him well

piiiiink!!!!!!!!!!

she’s still in college, getting her doctorate to be an astrophysicist!

pink is very very smart and will help anyone who’s struggling with something in school. she was basically the genius who always got in the honor roll every year. but, she actually was really anxious especially with exams

pink encourages stacey to go back to school, and sometimes stacey does, but she always ends up leaving again. it’s a little stressful but pink has hope for her

she’s never drank one sip of alcohol in her entire life. she smoked weed once, but it felt weird so she didn’t do it again

ever since she and blue broke up she’s been very supportive of him bc she herself is bisexual!!! so she sees nothing weird about it. in fact, about almost a year later she started dating stacey

pink’s real name is lily. when she became friends with blue she met red through him and she was like “can i join your nickname thing” and they said “sure” so they called her pink. stacey sometimes calls her pinky or just pink but mostly lily

pink helped red with academics. even tho he was sometimes insufferable to work with (/j thats a Joke i promise she’s a very patient person) she didn’t give up on him!!!! in return he helped her out with some fitness stuff cuz pink was always insecure about gym, and later when she graduated she actually got into exercising bc of red!

she loves travelling and going for walks. she owns a lot of houseplants and she’s given them all names and takes very good care of them! she also owns an albino ball python named Velvet

STACEYYY!!!!!!!

stacey is nOT actually all about sex this time ok. i don’t like that. i mean she did have some personality in canon but it wasn’t much? anyways she just really likes to express herself thru tight/”risque” clothing like fishnets and leather and pleated skirts and thigh-highs and platform boots, all of that. basically she’s a goth girl but doesn’t really “act” like one

she’s really intelligent when it comes to animals and insects and will tell you anything you need to know. when she goes back to college she gets a degree in environmental science

stacey can play the electric and bass guitars!!!! she was in a band back in high school but it never really went anywhere beyond performances at parties in someone’s garage. not that she didn’t like it, looking back on it makes her feel happy, but she wished it continued. probably why she has a hard time going back to college bc she’s not sure what she really wants

stacey is a trans woman btw!!!!! unfortunately it was a little difficult in high school to be who she was bc some kids were jerks, but there were a lot of others who supported her which is good

she views red as her brother as well and they still hang out a lot

i haven’t really had time to focus on stacey and make headcanons and stuff for her so i don’t have a lot but... let’s say, secretly, she’s a scifi nerd. and for the sake of debate, let’s say she’s a marvel fan. if you count being a fan of deadpool as being a fan of marvel

LOVES GIRLS.... loves pink!!!

has very similar music taste to red’s!!!!!

emssss!!!!!!! (lt)

instead of being a stereotype of ppl with tourette’s syndrome, it’s just a normal thing that isn’t focused on a whole lot. it doesn’t make ems swear but if they get really really frustrated they’ll curse while doing one of their tics

ems is agender, i’d say they’re also ageless but i don’t really want to make them too “nonhuman” because i feel like that’s dehumanizing to people with tourette’s. so let’s just say most laws of existence don’t apply to them

they’re very friendly!

they’re an aspiring musician, just like in canon

ems is also big into horror movies believe it or not. they’re pretty critical of them though like most horror movie fans, and only like specific ones (i’m not a horror movie fan myself so i can’t say what Specific Ones they like ajsdhbjn just imagine they have good taste okay)

they r very artsy too and like doing crafts cause it gives them something to focus on. it’s just a hobby though it’s not something they’re Professional at

they love nature and flowers and trees and all kinds of plants and animals!!! they like to document what they see when they travel thru nature and stuff so they bring a camera with them (and their phone, but, you know whatever)

ems was never really affected by things people said to them regarding their syndrome. to them it was something they were born with, so they couldn’t bother to feel bad about themselves. in certain situations theyre able to control it but 90% of the time they don’t care about what ppl think

aaaand there u go!!! as for minor characters like raccoon, jason/trollz0r, broseph, dingleberry, they all exist (raccoon isnt a racist stereotype tho), i just dont focus on them a whole lot. most of my hcs for stacey and ems here were thought up on the spot since i havent had time to lay out all my ideas for them but i hope what i have here is good !!!!

also, red and blue ARE dating, and pink and stacey ARE ALSO dating. gay rights

[tmsbrainrot]

Daydreamer (Version 1)

Summary: You were perfectly happy to pine after your study buddy, Kim Junmyeon, quietly and without expectation. That was until his roommate, Park Chanyeol, got involved. Appointing himself as your wingman, Chanyeol makes it his mission to get the two of you together. Do you dare get your hopes up? Will Chanyeol’s plan be a success, or will it end in heartbreak?

Genre: College!AU, DrummerYeol!AU, fluff, angst

Word count: 1,879

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | ?

The 20 minute drive to Chanyeol and Junmyeon’s apartment was the most fun you’d had in months. Your nights usually consisted of reading at the park, going home and studying, sleeping, getting woken up by your roommates, yelling at your roommates, then going back to sleep. You were fully aware of how sad that sounded so you didn’t mention it to Chanyeol. Not that you’d had the chance to mention anything to him. He’d talked the entire journey.

First, he’d spent five minutes calling you old for storing your music on CD’s. Apparently you needed to “get with the times” and “stop living in the past”. When he’d accused people like you of destroying iPod and MP3 sales you’d seriously considered pulling over and shoving him out of the car. He had then spent another five minutes lamenting your, quote, “emo 13-year-old” music taste.

“My Chemical Romance broke up in 2013. Get over it already!”

That had been the last straw. You’d exploded and told him to put his music on seeing as though you clearly needed educating on acceptable music. He had completely ignored the sarcasm dripping from your words and had produced a ridiculously tiny MP3 player from his voluminous hoodie pocket. He had also ignored your comment about how the MP3 player looked like a tic tac in his giant hands.

The following ten minutes had consisted of Chanyeol playing a variety of songs and explaining to you in a deadly serious voice that each song held the key to happiness within its melody. He’d explained, in great detail, the meaning of the lyrics for each song. He’d even explained how the instruments came together to produce different sounds and the affect the sounds produced had on the mind and body. It was all very interesting, although you didn’t understand a lot of the jargon he’d used. Still, listening to him speak with such passion was inspiring and left you with a warm feeling deep in your chest.

You’d been strangely saddened when you’d pulled up to his apartment block. The two of you had successfully removed Junmyeon’s bike from where it was crammed in the back seat and Chanyeol had turned to you with a sigh. “I guess this is goodbye.”

You’d laughed. “God, you’re so dramatic.”

“Please,” he’d said, covering his eyes with his hand and sniffling, “don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

Rolling your eyes, you’d got back into the driver’s seat and rolled down your window. “I’ll see you around, you giant baby,” you’d called out, pulling away.

“Miss you already!” he’d shouted back, waving enthusiastically and smiling that toothy smile that you couldn’t help but copy.

It wasn’t until you’d got to your apartment that you realised he had left his MP3 player in the passenger seat. Probably fell out of the cave that he calls a pocket, you thought wryly. Seriously, why does he wear a hoodie two sizes too big? Someone that tall has no business looking so small. Besides, if he’s going for the soft boyfriend look it’s not like he needs help from oversized clothes. Not with those sparkling eyes or adorable ears. Not to mention his fluffy hair and contagious smile... You felt your lips stretch into a grin as you unlocked the door to your apartment, MP3 player tucked into your jacket pocket.

Despite the fact that you had to be up in five hours for work you were filled with excitement. What had started off as an ordinary week was now a week of possibilities. Thanks to Chanyeol your flame of hope was now a raging fire, demanding that action be taken before it consumed you. Your study session with Junmyeon was scheduled for Sunday, giving you six days to come up with a plan of action. Plenty of time.

You’d dreamt up various versions of your confession, however being faced with the opportunity to make those daydreams reality shed light on how outlandish and embarrassing they actually were. You sifted through imagined scenarios as you got ready for bed, discarding the majority of them outright and picking apart the ones you sort of liked until you began to hate them. When you realised you’d been brushing your teeth for a good twenty minutes you decided to give up and tackle the problem again tomorrow.

Junmyeonie ❤ [sent at 10:32am] : morning study buddy! sorry to disturb you when you’re working but my roommate chanyeol told me you helped him out last night with the whole bike thing. can you believe that punk tried to convince me that he bandaged his own hands then rode home by himself? he’s always been a shitty liar. don’t worry, i didn’t beat him up that bad... haha! anyway, i just wanted to say thanks for looking after the kid. if you hadn’t been there he probably would’ve done something stupid and ended up getting seriously hurt. i owe you one!

Junmyeonie ❤ [sent at 10:34am] : btw he keeps asking for your number. says he left something in your car? you mind if i give him your number?

Me [sent at 11:00am] : no worries, i’m on break now anyway :) i couldn’t ignore a person in need. i’m too much of a saint for that. jk lol. you don’t owe me anything. yeah, he left his mp3 player in my car. you can give him my number

Me [sent at 11:01am] : also i didn’t think you were the type to beat up an injured man dr junmyeon! wow, chanyeol was right about you...

Junmyeonie ❤ [sent at 11:02am] : a saint? pfff

Junmyeonie ❤ [sent at 11:02am] : wait, what slander has chanyeol been spreading about me????

Me [sent at 11:03am] : i couldn’t possibly say

Junmyeonie ❤ [sent at 11:03am] : you’ve changed. the daydreamer i know would never keep secrets from their favourite study buddy

Me [sent at 11:04am] :  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Junmyeonie ❤ [sent at 11:06am] : i don’t want to give him your number now. he’s clearly a bad influence

Me [sent at 11:06am] : ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Junmyeonie ❤ [sent at 11:09am] : meanie :(

Unknown [sent at 1:43pm] : y did jun send me a text with this number saying ‘you two deserve each other’???

Me [sent at 3:15pm] : chanyeol?

Unknown [sent at 3:16pm] : doc???

Me [sent at 3:17pm] : yeah lol

Chanyeol [sent at 3:17pm] : oh shit waddup

Me [sent at 3:19pm] : lmao he actually gave you my number

Meme boi Chanyeol [sent at 3:20pm] : was he not supposed to??

Meme boi Chanyeol [sent at 3:20pm] : y??

Meme boi Chanyeol [sent at 3:20pm] : do u not like me??? :’(

Me [sent at 3:21pm] : dude chill. he said he wasn’t going to that’s all

Meme boi Chanyeol [sent at 3:22pm] : so u do like me????????

Me [sent at 3:23pm] : you can’t see me right now but i’m rolling my eyes

Meme boi Chanyeol [sent at 3:23pm] : i’ll take that as a yes

Meme boi Chanyeol [sent at 3:40pm] : what r u doing?

Me [sent at 3:43pm] : i’m at work

Meme boi Chanyeol [sent at 3:44pm] : shit, my bad. i’ll stop bothering u

Me [sent at 3:47pm] : it’s cool. i’ll text you when i’m off

Meme boi Chanyeol [sent at 3:47pm] : :)

Once your shift ended you gathered your things from the staff locker, pulling on your jacket and patting the pocket to make sure Chanyeol’s MP3 player was still there, safe and sound. You’d messaged him as soon as you’d clocked out and he’d messaged you back immediately. The speed at which he replied was both endearing and a little worrying. He must be pretty attached to his phone if he can reply so quickly, you thought.

You’d arranged to meet at the park before heading to class so you could return his belonging. When you pulled up to the car park you saw him sitting on the curb, his long legs folded awkwardly and his hands on his knees. He was wearing the same black cap and hoodie, although he had traded the skinny jeans for sweatpants and the sneakers for the ugliest white shoes you’d ever seen. His head snapped up as you parked and he unfolded his limbs with visible difficulty, pushing himself up from his sitting position and loping over to you.

“Hey there,” he said, beaming at you. You grinned back, looking up at him and noticing a dimple had appeared on his left cheek. Your gaze rose to meet his sparkling eyes and you felt a sudden surge of affection. Before you knew it you had wrapped your arms around him in a quick hug. He let out a small gasp, stiffening at your touch.

Stepping back hastily you felt your cheeks begin to heat up. “I, ah, sorry,” you said falteringly. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Chanyeol didn’t answer, he just chuckled and patted your head. “No worries, doc. I was just surprised. Usually I’m the one initiating the hug.”

You laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I bet. You seem like the touchy feely type.”

“Is that a compliment?” he asked, head tilting to the side and smirk clear on his face.

“Sure,” you said, his laid-back attitude easing your awkwardness. “It’s cute. You’re like a golden retriever.”

He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. “You know, I feel like you’re making fun of me, but at the same time you’re saying things that make me all warm and fuzzy inside. It’s confusing.”

“My apologies,” you said, grinning. “I’ll try to speak plainly so you can understand.”

“Ah,” he said, raising a finger, “now I know you’re making fun of me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed and the ghost of a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Daydreamer.”

You shrugged airily. “Yeah yeah. Do you want your portable music device or not. I got a class to go to.”

“Portable music device? Are you trying to hurt me?” Drama queen Chanyeol had returned.

Rolling your eyes you pulled the MP3 out of your pocket and held it out to him. As he reached out to take it you notice his hands. “I see you changed the bandages. Do they hurt?”

He shook his head. “Junmyeon helped me. He said you did a really good job of fixing them up. Very professional.”

Your heartbeat quickened and once again a blush spread to your cheeks. “Oh,” was all you managed to reply.

A strange look passed over Chanyeol’s face, too quickly for you to make out the meaning behind it before it was replaced with his usual half-grin.

You cleared your throat meaningfully. “Well then, I’ve got to go. Don’t want to be late to immunology.” You turned to leave, opening the driver’s side door.

“Wait,” Chanyeol said, grabbing your arm. He seemed to be debating something. He kept opening his mouth to speak then closing it, frowning.

“What is it?” you asked, becoming increasingly nervous.

Chanyeol huffed, pulled his cap off, ran his fingers through his hair, placed the cap back on his head, then nodded to himself.

“Are you in love with Junmyeon?”