#Also I have a secret project but I’ll be hush hush for now he he

[loopyarts]

Here’s a cute summer illustration of Teruteru and Hajime hanging out and enjoying a ice cream and slushy on the beach together along with their classmates.

Fun fact this artwork was supposed to be finished on last day of June since it a pride piece but I got busy and it taken till today to finish. Also happy pride uk because recently I found out, we celebrate pride in July and I went to my very first pride on Saturday. ^^

[writingtraumaforever]

Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 18

Notes: More Rouge than anything in this one. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!

Summary: Rouge gathers intel while Sonic and Shadow... "meditate".

I also wrote two mini-prequels about the AU Sonadow couple in this series if you want to check those out:

•Something I’m Made For

•The 30th (New!)

Chapter Select!

Link to my AO3!

Start:

Rouge walks through GUN’s halls on full alert. While she may work for the organization, she doesn’t trust them. Honestly, working for them has only made her learn to not trust them even more over the years. They do good work, yes. But she’s well aware that they’ll go to whatever lengths possible to make sure said work is done.

Especially when it comes to Shadow..

Hell. They’ve gone to tumultuous lengths from the very beginning of Shadow’s story. Most would call building a top secret space station to create an ultimate power for eternal life and then gunning down innocent people when the project took a dark turn not exactly.. humane.��

But GUN has come a long ways since that, of course. And Rouge knows that’s a lot thanks to Shadow’s own work in the organization.. he became the change he wanted to see in it, and GUN has never been more in debt to him because of it.

But she’s also aware that if they got the chance to have a second Ultimate Lifeform all to themselves to use or potentially experiment on??

They’d take it. In a heartbeat.

They can’t know about this new Shadow.

Walking down the corridor towards the elevator, Rouge doesn’t sense any eyes on her more than usual. This doesn’t make her let her guard down, though. She knows better. 

They likely are keeping this hush hush until they know more, having enough evidence to have suspicions based on what they heard in Shadow’s bugged medical room. 

Riding the elevator to the medical wing, Rouge keeps her composure and doesn’t seem off or guilty. She’s a professional spy, after all. And a thief. Both of which’s specialties she’ll be using currently.

The elevator dings, and she walks onto the floor. There’s doctors aiding injured agents, a few scientists here and there running blood samples down to the labs. She can always spot Shadow’s from afar. It’s colored differently than human or Mobian blood.. more violet than red much like that of Black Doom..

Rounding the corner, Rouge finds the front desk of the medical wing and approaches the nurse sitting there with a smirk, “Heya doc. Got a minute?”

The nurse’s gaze lifts to the bat, an immediate nod of respect to one of their finer and more well-known agents— the first Mobian one among them, “Agent Rouge. Of course. What can I help you with??”

“I’m gonna need the medical files on Shadow from his injuries on his last op. He’s still feeling kinda down, and I figure knowing all I can will help get him feeling better.”

“Well, if Agent Shadow is feeling ill still, he should come back here immediately to be checked over.”

Well that won’t do.

“That’s what I told him,” Rouge shrugs as if it just can’t be helped, “But you know him. He’s stubborn. I’d say he has mule in him if not for the fact I’ve seen his DNA results for myself.”

The nurse chuckles at this, nodding in agreement, “He is certainly not the easiest patient to care for.”

“Tell me about it. I’ll be happy when he’s at his full strength again, and I don’t have to worry about his sorry ass,” she smirks with a wink, leaning against the desk with her cheek on her hand and elbow on the surface, “So help a girl out and get me those files, huh?? Should be accessible with me being his emergency contact and all.”

“Alright then,” the nurse nods with a smile, typing into the computer only for a beeping sound to occur and the smile fade into a frown.

“..That’s odd.”

Typing again. Another beep.

“It says his files are under lockdown.”

Rouge frowns at this, brows furrowing with her arms crossing over her chest now.

Well that can’t be good.

“Lockdown?? What on earth for??”

“Not sure,” the nurse shrugs, looking to Rouge with an apologetic frown, “It’s probably just protocol. They may be working on the records system or something. It’ll probably be available again tomorrow or so. I can email it to you when it opens back up??” 

“That’ll be just peachy, hun, thanks,” Rouge smiles with another wink, blowing the nurse a kiss before waltzing right on down the hall towards the elevator again.

If his records are on lockdown, they’re more than certainly onto Shadow not being Shadow.

Turning the corner, she finds herself having to halt her steps and take a quick step back in order not to run into someone.

“Hey, watch it—“ 

She pauses upon seeing who it is.

Commander Tower.

“Agent Rouge,” her superior addresses with a nod to her, “You seem to be in a hurry.”

“Yeah well I’m a busy girl, Commander,” she shrugs nonchalantly, offering him an unbothered smirk with a hand resting on her hip, “Got an extra grumpy hedgehog waiting for me back home.”

“Ah yes. Agent Shadow. How is he doing since he was discharged this morning??”

“Just fine, really. Still moody. Still needy. As all men are,” she rolls her eyes with a chuckle, “Sent me here looking for his files. You know how he likes to have copies for himself. The little OCD rat..”

“Yes, he is quite organized with his personal records and operation history.”

“I like to think of it as sentimental,” Rouge replies casually, “But come to find out, his records are under lock and key right now.” She eyes him at that, quirking a brow to read any signs of reaction to her words, “Any reason why??”

Commander Tower frowns down at her a long moment, face trained and emotionless as they have a stare-down as if trying to wait for the other to crack.

Neither do.

“System reboot. All records are under lock for now while the system is being worked on,” he informs, though Rouge isn’t convinced in the slightest, “It should be up again by tomorrow.”

“Hm,” the bat hums, eyes skeptical still as she mutters, “Good to know..”

“Yes,” the Commander agrees, “Though, if Agent Shadow isn’t feeling like.. himself.”

There it is.

“…Perhaps he should talk to one of our doctors here..?”

“He’s feeling a lot better,” Rouge replies, her eyes narrowing at the commander, “Just needs rest.”

“Right. We’ll give him our best wishes from here at GUN,” the commander offers, his smile not reaching his eyes in the slightest, “And remind him we’re here if he needs the aid..”

“Will do,” she replies with a sarcastic sort of salute before he walks around him, “Later, Commander.”

She feels his eyes watching the back of her head as she steps into the elevator to leave.

She leaves the building, making sure security cameras see her fly away…

Only to head to her place for a bit of gear and a better plan.

Said plan being to break into Commander Tower’s office and get the files for herself.

Using her knowledge of the building’s security layout to her advantage, she knows what vent lead where and which ones aren’t monitored by cameras— but she’s sure to bring her gadget that blocks the signal to the cameras and freezes them for a small amount of time. About 5 minutes. That’s all she’ll need anyway.

With expert stealth, she makes her way through the vents into the Commander’s Office, making sure he’s gone on his lunch break before carefully crawling through the wall and immediately moving to his desk.

Taking her lipstick out, she reapplies some with a little smirk before pulling the secret cap off of it to reveal a USB of sorts. Plugging it into the computer, the passcode is immediately entered in on its own and unlocked. 

“Too easy..,” she preens proudly, going to work to find what she needs.

It takes her no time since Commander Tower already had all of Shadow’s files pulled up, seemingly having been looking over them himself.

She purses her lips at this, eyes narrowing as she transports the files onto her USB along with the details of the operation her own Shadow had been on when the chaos incident happened.

She hears footsteps, eyes widening as she watches the bar slowly slide along the screen.

97%..

“Come on, come on..”

The knob turns..

99%..

Commander Tower enters the his office, looking extremely perturbed, “What the hell is this???”

Rouge’s eyes are wide, staring at the commander through the vent grate.

“I specifically said no ketchup on my burger!”

Rouge breathes a small sigh of relief, looking at the usb in her hands with a smirk before making her way back out.

•••

Shadow sits quietly on the floor of Tails’ living room, his legs criss-crossed and palms resting on his knees with his eyes shut. Meditating. Gathering himself.

He was the cause of this, supposedly. His abuse of chaos control had gotten him sent to an entirely different dimension. Even after all this time, he still was learning new things about himself and what lengths his power could reach.

He tried not to blame himself for this, though.. He knows damn well his boyfriend would’ve wanted him to do what he had. To fight to stay alive, even if it meant resorting to using a fake chaos emerald to escape.

Sonic once used a fake chaos emerald as a means of escape, and he didn’t blow a hole in the fabric of time and space. So what made this time so different??

‘Because it was me that did it,’ is the thought that immediately comes to mind. Sonic is the pure and untouched Ultimate Lifeform, the natural answer to the universe’s problems.

Shadow?? Shadow was a rip-off version built by a mad scientist and demonic alien in space. He was destructive and unpredictable. Nothing ever worked out for him. Ever.

He sighs to himself at his pessimism, practically feeling his Sonic thump him in the back of the head with a ��don’t be such a downer, dude!�� He can’t help but smile lightly at the thought..

He misses him.. So much. “Whatcha doin’??” 

Speakin’ of the blue devil.. Here comes his alternate.

“Meditating.”

“Sounds boring,” Sonic shrugs, closing the front door behind him. He had gone out for a late night run. He didn’t go too far, though, staying within earshot of the house in case something happened with Shadow.

“It calms me,” Shadow breathes, his ear twitching slightly at the sound of the front door shutting, sensing Sonic’s footsteps entering the living room.

“You stressed or somethin’??” Sonic asks dumbly, moving to the couch to grab the remote for the television.

Shadow huffs a bit annoyed when the tv’s commentary adds to the distractions of his meditating, “Why would I be stressed?? It’s not as though I could’ve possibly caused the instant destruction of this world and my own as we know it.”

“Drama queen,” Sonic smirks, rolling his eyes at Shadow as he rests his elbow on the armrest of the couch and his cheek in his palm, beginning to flip through the channels.

Shadow’s eyes open and narrow at the hedgehog, “Maybe you should be taking this more seriously.” Sonic snorts, “Can’t really do anything until we have more intel and our friends here. And I don’t do well with the ‘sitting around and waiting in distress’ thing. I like distractions.” Shadow’s own eyes roll at this. He knows this about Sonic. He doesn’t deal with his emotions, he runs from them until he has no choice but to face them. Some things never change, he supposes.

“Of course. How silly of me to think you could actually sit still long enough to meditate, let alone shut your mouth long enough,” Shadow remarks with no real malice, a playful glint in his eye. Challenging.

His intentions prove successful when Sonic’s left ear turns his direction and he eyes Shadow out of the corner of his eye..

Then the tv is switched off.

“Alright. I’ll bite. I bet I can out-meditate you.” “That’s not–” Shadow sighs and shakes his head in submission, “Whatever. Sure. Com’ere.”

Sonic nods and hops back up from the couch, tossing the remote on the cushion before moving to stand in front of Shadow.

“Sit.”

Sonic sits on the floor obediently, mirroring Shadow’s own posture and position.There’s a shit-eating grin on his face that Shadow knows all too well. One that’s cocky and full of trouble.

“Okay, now what?” “Close your eyes,” Shadow instructs, watching this new Sonic do as he’s told and shut his eyes before Shadow shuts his own as well.

“Breathe in…,” Shadow takes a deep, audible breath so Sonic can hear and follow his lead, “Then out..,” he breathes it out. Sonic does the same.

“Repeat.”

In. Out.

In. Out.

In–

“I feel dizzy,” Sonic giggles, Shadow opening his eyes to see the hero swaying a bit where he sits with his eyes still shut.

Shadow can’t help the small chuckle that escapes him at this, shaking his head at the hedgehog, “Don’t breathe so heavy that you make yourself pass out, idiot.” “I was just doin’ what you said! Is this like– a way to get high without drugs or somethin’??” “No,” Shadow groans, “Just– you’re suppose to shut your mouth, remember??”

“Oh, right! Sorry,” he clamps his lips together, Shadow quirking a brow as he watches him.

“Mm mm mmm?” Sonic hums through closed lips, Shadow’s smile only growing as he holds back another amused giggle at the poor fool’s attempt to speak with his mouth still shut. “What??” “I said ‘is this right?’”” “Let’s just do something else,” Shadow gives in, already moving to push himself to stand up.

“Fine by me! Though- gotta say. You’re not very good at this whole meditation thing, Shads. You didn’t last very long at staying still at all.”

Shadow just glowers at Sonic’s annoying little grin, offering him a hand regardless to help him stand back up.

“You’re such a little–”

The door opens suddenly, both heads turning to see Rouge waltzing in and holding a tube of lipstick proudly in the air, “Got it!”

They both stare at the tube of lipstick, Shadow skeptical and Sonic confused. “...Oh, this is gonna be one of those slumber parties,” Sonic nods with wide eyes, shifting a hand to his own hip to sassily say, “Thanks Rouge, but that’s not really my color.”

Shadow and Rouge just roll their eyes with a groan.

[teaberrii]

Chapter 12: Eyes Everywhere

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

You’re spending the rest of the afternoon doing research in the city. You manage to score an interview with some businessmen, and the responses of one of them have you see a silver lining.

“There are a lot of great business opportunities here besides hospitality. I mean… it truly is a great place if people here can get it up and running. It may be small, but they should take advantage of the island's natural resources. That can seriously boost its economy! I already know people who want to get factories up and running… but they’ve been and still are facing a lot of obstacles.

"Take this off the record, but I think the people here are too protective of themselves. Maybe it’s because of what happened to that owner that everyone sees outside influences as a threat.”

“Owner?” you ask.

“Yeah. Caelus… I think that was his name. He owned a boutique hotel”—the man points somewhere in the distance—” somewhere in that area on the next street over. I kind of knew his old man as my wife and I stayed there when it was just getting off the ground. It’s quite a shame. Their ideas were very unique, and I heard they were doing well before the awful news…”

“Have they said anything about their business running into some sort of trouble?”

“God, it was so long ago… but I remember a fight. Don’t know the man who was arguing with them but my wife was a local here. She’d never seen him before either, so it might’ve been an irritated customer since it was pretty clear he wanted to make a scene.”

You show him a picture of Caelus’s uncle. “Was this him?”

“Yeah! Pretty sure.”

So, that meant Caelus’s uncle mainly or had always stayed in the city. Was he already trying to sabotage the hotel before the Star Rails project with Jing Yuan's ex? Did the resentment go that far?

You thank the man for his time. Then, as he walks away, you quickly turn around. Perhaps you’re paranoid, but you swear you sense someone looking at you. But all you see are people and tourists walking around. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Well, well, if it isn’t everyone’s favourite mother.”

You recognize that voice anywhere. You turn around, and your guess is right. “Didn’t think I’d see our athlete superstar walking the streets alone.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone gets the special opportunity to spend time with the one and only,” Dan Feng says with an amused grin. “You’re lucky.” You give him a deadpan look but start walking with him nonetheless. “So, how was the date? Did Jing Yuan treat you like the queen you are?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, son.”

“Oof. You got me.”

“But, since you asked... I had a lot of fun. It was wonderful."

“Wonderful? Really? You’re too young to be sounding so old, Mom.” You raise a fist, and Dan Feng quickly raises the bag of groceries he’s holding to protect himself. “Just kidding!” You face forward just as he asks, “So, are you two official?”

You don’t know what to tell him. The less people know, the better. However, Jing Yuan already messaged you about Yanqing's mistake. And there’s also the project. You may be digging up dirt on Star Rails, but you’re still partly responsible for this project's success. Perhaps it’s best to wait until this is all over to announce the news.

“All right, I get it,” Dan Feng says. “I think I know why you want to keep it hush-hush for now.” He winks at you. “I’ll keep your secret, Mom. Don’t worry. But… Did you know his ex is back?”

“Who did you hear that from?”

“No one. I saw her myself. If I were to take an educated guess, she was going to pick up Yanqing.”

“Have you met her before?”

“Twice. Once when she and Jing Yuan were dating. The next was on their wedding day.”

“...Ah.”

Dan Feng gently nudges you. “Hey, don’t be getting jealous. They’re done for.”

You want to say you’re not jealous. It doesn’t bother you at all. And, maybe you’d really feel that way if you’d never seen her. But now that you’ve seen and met her in person… it feels more real.

You clear your throat. “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s been worried about Jingliu, so they’re out on a little date. I wanted to go, but he insisted on going alone.”

“Someone sure sounds disappointed.”

“Just between you and me, I think he has a thing for her.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“Me?” Dan Feng scoffs. “Oh, please. It’s Jingliu. It’d take someone really special to sweep her off her feet.”

“You don’t think Dan Heng meets those standards?”

“Do you think he does?”

“Sir, why are you asking me?”

“Well, you and Jingliu are kind of alike… You’re both women.”

“Very well spotted, thanks.”

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s a man or woman who exists that can match Jingliu. She’s unmatched.”

You and Dan Feng are almost at the bed and breakfast when the conversation turns to his training for the Global Games next year.

“It’ll probably be my last competition.”

“...Are you thinking about retiring?”

Dan Feng smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

There’s more to the story, but you don’t get to ask when you reach the stone villa. You see March and Welt sitting on the couch inside, and Pom is anxiously looking upstairs. Knowing exactly where it leads, you glance up. You hear faint conversation but not enough to know what’s going on, but you’re sure that the voices belong to Jing Yuan and his ex.

“What’s going on?” Dan Feng asks, pushing open the door. “Why are you all just sitting here?”

March sighs. “Because there’s a war going on upstairs.”

“Where’s Yanqing?” you ask.

“Upstairs with Jing Yuan and… his ex,” Welt says.

Pom puts some glasses on the table. “Let’s calm down, everyone.”

You take out your phone and see the last text from Jing Yuan.

She found out through Yanqing.

You’re sitting next to Welt when Pom puts a glass of water in front of you. “Everything will be okay,” he reassures.

“Why is Yanqing up there?” Dan Feng asks. “Why are they up there, anyway?”

“She wanted a place ‘to talk’,” Pom says. “Neither of them wanted to go to his place."

“Wait. How do you know this?”

“I… sorta overheard a little bit of their conversation when they got back. They came in, and Jing Yuan said they’ll be using the balcony upstairs.”

March leans back. “God, why’d she have to show up?”

You don’t know if you’ll get a response, but you text Jing Yuan anyway.

I’m downstairs. Is everything okay?

Just then, everyone hears footsteps, and the first person to appear is Jing Yuan. He’s carrying Yanqing who's resting his head on Jing Yuan’s shoulder. The poor kid looks exhausted. Behind Jing Yuan is his ex.

When Yanqing sees you, he lifts his head, and Jing Yuan puts him down. You stand and meet them halfway. Yanqing hugs your knees, and you affectionately pat his head.

“Is he okay?” you ask Jing Yuan.

There's a tired but stern look in Jing Yuan’s eyes. “He’s fine."

Then, his ex walks up to you, ignoring the stares of the others. “Let’s have dinner together.” She crosses her arms. “I have the information that you want, and I’ll give it to you on one condition.” Where is she getting this confidence from? “So, since we’re both here, let’s use the time to get to know each other. Just the two—”

“Enough.” Jing Yuan’s interruption makes the room go completely silent. Then, he shoots his ex a cold look. “Yanqing gave you his answer.”

“This is between me and her.”

“No, it’s not. You’re using other ways to try to get what you want without any consideration for your son.”

“Stop.” Yanqing’s muffled voice sounds desperate. “Stop fighting… Please…”

His ex turns to you, looking a little rattled. “So, we’ll have dinner tonight. Just me and you.”

You clench your fists, but you hold your tongue for Yanqing’s sake. As soon as she walks out the door, March lets out a breath. You still have a comforting hand around Yanqing’s head when she walks over.

“Geezus, what happened up—”

Dan Feng’s nudge makes her stop. He nods at Yanqing who’s still hugging your legs.

“I wanna go home,” Yanqing says, his voice still muffled.

You crouch and put your hands on his cheeks. “Then, let’s go home.”

The car ride back to Jing Yuan’s house is a quiet one. Before you get there, Jing Yuan reaches over and gives your hand a little squeeze. You turn to him, and you can see it in his eyes. He’ll tell you what happened but not with Yanqing in the car.

A short while later, Jing Yuan is making Yanqing a snack in the kitchen. You and Yanqing are in the living room, playing a game of chess, but you can tell from the tired and sad look in his eyes that he’s focused on something else.

“...I made a mistake.” At first, you think he’s talking about the game. “When Dad was driving me to school, he told me beforehand that I shouldn’t call you Mom while she’s here. I forgot, and…”

“Hey…” You sit next to him. “Don’t tell me you’re blaming yourself.”

“Maybe if I didn’t make that mistake, they wouldn’t have fought and…”

Jing Yuan puts a plate of healthy, homemade snacks on the table, and you and Yanqing look up at him. Then, Jing Yuan crouches and puts a hand around his son’s head. “It’s not your fault, Yanqing.”

“But… She got so mad.”

Jing Yuan glances at you. “Do you think calling her Mom is something you shouldn’t do?”

Yanqing looks at you. “Well, if she doesn’t mind…”

You kiss his head. “Of course I don’t.”

Jing Yuan affectionately ruffles his son's hair. "That means it's okay, and you didn't do anything wrong." Yanqing manages a small smile and Jing Yuan affectionately ruffles his hair. “Why don’t you take your snacks and watch some TV while Mom and I have a little talk?”

Yanqing looks from Jing Yuan to you and back to Jing Yuan. Then, he picks up his plate and walks over to the couch. You and Jing Yuan end up in the kitchen where he also prepared you a little something. But food is the last thing on your mind.

“I’ve never seen him so quiet,” you say. “What in the world happened?”

Jing Yuan sighs. “She wants you to leave Yanqing alone. If you do, she'll tell you what you want to know."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in.

“Yanqing never said you were seeing anyone,” his ex said, glaring at Jing Yuan.

"It's not something he should have to tell you."

“I don’t care what kind of relationship she has with you, but she’s not taking Yanqing away from me.” Then, she crouched and put her hand on Yanqing's shoulders. He was sitting on the couch, trying to disassociate from all of this negativity. Jing Yuan never wanted him here, but his ex refused to let him leave as she also wanted to set things straight with him. “Yanqing, Mom will give you a much better life in the city. We recently moved into a bigger house, and a new private school just opened—”

“...I don’t want to go.”

“Why? You can still see your dad, and—”

“It’s not just because of Dad,” Yanqing interrupted quietly. “I like it here, and it’s not like Dad isn't letting me see you. I still visit, but I don’t want to stay there… forever.”

“Yanqing, you’re still too young to understand, but—”

“You say he’s too young," Jing Yuan interrupted, "but at least he knows what he wants." She stood upright, and Yanqing ran over to Jing Yuan. "That might change when he gets older, but stop pressuring him into doing something he doesn’t want.”

“Pressuring him? I’m not! I’m reasoning with him.” His ex scoffed and crossed her arms. “It’s also because of her, isn’t it?”

"Stop saying it's because of her." Jing Yuan glared at her. "Because it's not. You're not respecting him."

She walked up until she was close enough to lower her voice so Yanqing couldn't hear. "I know she's looking for some information. She wouldn't come to me if it was easy to get." She returned his glare with one of her down. "I want her out of Yanqing's life."

“I’m not going to let Yanqing see her anymore." Jing Yuan puts his hands on the counter behind him. "Not alone, at least.”

You scoff. “I’m also not going to give her what she wants.”

A short silence passes where both of you are mulling over your thoughts about what to do with this crazy woman until…

“...But I'll still have dinner with her.” Jing Yuan looks up and sees you leaning against the wall. “She knows that you’ll definitely tell me what happened on the balcony. And, knowing that, I’m not going to run away.”

“If you made up your mind, I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears, General.”

◆◆◆

Jing Yuan drops you off at a nearby restaurant later that evening. As soon as you enter, you see his ex already at a table near the window. Taking a small breath, you walk over. You know she sees you but she’s still looking out the window. You slip off your coat and drape it over the back of the chair. Then, you casually put your phone face down on the table. When you sit down, she finally acknowledges you.

“How long have you been seeing Jing Yuan?”

“I thought we were here to talk about your deal, not my relationship with Jing Yuan.”

She pours herself some wine. “It’s related.”

“What’s your condition?”

She scoffs. “I feel like I’m looking into a mirror.”

You force a smile. "Let's not waste time.”

“Didn’t Jing Yuan tell you? I want you out of Yanqing’s life.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Then, no deal.”

You cross one leg over the other. “Regardless of who Jing Yuan dates, that person will be part of Yanqing’s life. Are you going to refuse whoever comes into their lives? Or, is it because it’s me, someone who happens to work at Star Rails?” A pause as you pour yourself some wine. “I also have other ways of getting what I need.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not. What would I gain from doing that?” You calmly look her in the eyes. “I’m giving you a chance to clear your name. Everyone thinks Star Rails has something to do with Caelus’s death. You were part of that project. It’s natural that people suspect you.”

“A chance to clear my name? Don’t make me laugh. I don’t have anything to hide.”

“Caelus’s uncle was a stakeholder in that project. You handled everything. It’s impossible not to have met him at least once. That time, you and Jing Yuan were still together and you knew that Caelus was his friend.”

“...What are you getting at?”

"Caelus and his uncle didn't have a good relationship. He even caused a scene at his hotel before meeting you. He must have known long before that Caelus wouldn't accept the offer from Star Rails. So, to succeed, you tried convincing Jing Yuan to convince Caelus to go through with the project. But, that failed. And somehow Caelus ends up dead."

“I didn’t have anything to do with that!” The sudden outburst turns a few heads. Then, she exhales sharply. “Why would his uncle want him to partner with Star Rails in the first place?”

Do you have the right answer? You have no idea. But the one you can think of is the only one that makes the most sense.

“Money. Caelus’s uncle wasn’t happy that his brother left Caelus with everything, including the hotel. Partnering with Star Rails is one way for him to get some kind of control over the hotel. There’d also be potential money under the table.”

“And what would I gain from that, hm? Yes, I wanted the project to succeed, but why would I help him?”

“He knew a guy.”

“I was talking to one of my business partners today, and… he mentioned Caelus’s uncle,” Jing Yuan said. “Not knowing that I know him.”

“What did they say?”

“He was recommending him as a potential partner as he’s supposedly a great businessman and friend. And he also has connections.”

“Wait a minute… Don’t tell me…”

Jing Yuan nodded. “He said Caelus’s uncle has been on good terms with senior management at Star Rails for a long time.”

“Senior management, huh?”

“He could put in a good word for you and help you climb the ranks,” you say.

“That doesn't guarantee I'll get anything. You’re going to have to try harder than that, Honey.”

"Then, why didn't you file the project reports? There wasn't anything suspicious about it other than Caelus's uncle being listed as a stakeholder. If you really don't have anything to hide, why don't you give a clear explanation?"

She’s looking off to the side when she says, “I just forgot.”

You almost scoff, but you don’t hide the disappointment on your face. You thought she would’ve come up with a better excuse than that.

“I have proof that you didn’t just forget.”

You think she’d ask for it, but instead, there's a pause before she says, “...He approached me first.”

Jing Yuan’s ex walked into a restaurant that evening. A stakeholder had invited her to a business dinner, and she'd thought others involved in the project would attend. But when she arrived, there was only one person. He was still dressed in the same outfit from the meeting earlier today.

“Ah, you’re here.”

She sat across from him, thinking whether she should stay or make an excuse to leave. “I thought there would be others joining us.”

He filled his glass and then hers with wine. “Let’s get right to it, shall we?” He picked up his glass and gestured for her to pick up hers. She reluctantly did so.

Clink!

“I’ve heard a lot of great things about your performance," he said, "and this project is apparently a make or break for a big promotion.”

“...Um, yes. That’s right. Does this have anything to do with—”

“My nephew is the owner of the boutique hotel.”

It took a moment for those words to sink in. She shouldn’t be so surprised as they have the same last name, but it was so common that she didn’t think twice.

“Let me tell you now that you won’t have any luck trying to convince him. This project is just an idea… a vision of what could happen. But, it’s not going to work.”

“If you have such strong concerns about it, why didn’t you raise them during the meeting?”

He extends his arms to the side. “Because if I did, the project wouldn’t be a success.”

“What… What are you saying?”

“My nephew won’t partner with Star Rails because our vision doesn’t align with his. Regardless of what happens, he wants to remain independent, and he won’t change his mind. Unless…”

“Are we ready to order?”

You almost frown when you hear the young waiter interrupt Jing Yuan’s ex. When you look at him, his innocent smile almost makes you sigh. After the waiter leaves, you turn back and see Jing Yuan’s ex calmly sipping her wine.

“...You were saying?” you ask.

She puts her wine glass on the table. “There’s nothing else to say.”

There is. You can feel it.

“...Did he have something to do with Caelus’s death?”

“You’re asking the wrong person.”

Are you, really?

“But, I had nothing to do with it."

After a brief silence, you say, “...You asked how long I was seeing Jing Yuan. What about you and your fiancé? How did you two meet?”

She slightly narrows her eyes. “Why are you asking?”

“He told me today that I had no idea what you went through. It just made me curious is all.”

“...Why would he tell you that?”

You look her in the eyes. “You tell me. It sounded like it had something to do with Caelus.”

“Let’s not get off topic. I told you what you wanted to know. Now, it’s my turn. Stay away from Yanqing.”

“This isn’t about me. Have you considered what he wants?”

“He’s too young to understand.”

“About what? You say he’s too young, but even I don’t understand why you want him to stay away from me."

"I don't need another person to be a bad influence on him. I'm already trying to get him out of this godforsaken town." She gives you a cold look. "Convincing Jing Yuan is hard enough. I don't need another person in my way."

"Godforsaken town? Why do you hate this place so much?"

She scoffs. "You haven't noticed? They aren't exactly the friendliest people to outsiders who want to do business here. They're too narrow-minded. I only want what's best for my son."

“Having me stay away from him isn’t going to help your case. It’s a short-term solution to a long-term problem. He may be young, but you should at least respect him.”

“Sorry for the wait!”

You don’t bother looking at the waiter as he sets your food in front of you. You give a nod of thanks just before he leaves. When you turn back, Jing Yuan’s ex is looking at you with a composed expression unlike before.

She looks as if she has something to say, but her phone goes off. After a glance, she says, “So, I take you aren’t going to do it.”

Perhaps you're paranoid, but you turn around. You sense you're being watched. But nothing seems out of the ordinary.

When you turn back, Jing Yuan's ex is already standing and putting on her coat. "Then, we have nothing else to discuss." She calls the waiter over, and there's confusion on his face but he does as he's told. He walks over, glances at you, and packs away her food.

You watch as they walk away. When you glance out the window, you see her cross the street and get into a car. You pick up your phone and turn off the recording that's been going on ever since you sat down. After texting Jing Yuan and knowing he’s on his way, you go to pay for your food. You step out into the cold, scrolling through your phone as you think about what you’ve learned.

You're sure Caelus's uncle has something to do with Caelus's death, and you also have a hunch that Jing Yuan's ex knows something about it if her fiancé's words are anything to go by. Was it the guilt of knowing and not doing anything? Or was it guilt—

Your eyes widen when a hand swiftly covers your nose and mouth. Your phone drops to the ground. Your hands are in a bind behind you. Despite your struggles, your attacker drags you into an alleyway, leaving your phone with an incoming call from Jing Yuan on the cold cement.

Chapter 13

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @nqctre @grimreapersscythe @winterpein @asakenajustexistshere

[ellekhen]

No Hard Feelings

Chapter 13 - A Hell of a Time (Fin)

(Temporary hero image because I'm on my honeymoon, away from the computer! So enjoy these two anyway. :3)

Chapter Summary: A year after the defeat of the Absolute, three friends have been surviving together in Avernus. However, this hellish plane is home not only to Zariel's minions, but also Tiamat herself. Wyll knows that Irva is keeping a secret from him, and he fears the worst.

Pairing: Wyll x Female Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 48.6K words; Chapters: 13/13 [Complete]

Excerpt below:

There is a brief, skeptical silence. 

“Hells, all right,” Wyll buries his head into his hands. “I suppose... have you been talking with Irva?”

“I mean, of course…?”

“Particularly when I’m not present,” Wyll clarifies warily, "do you think she’s… well?”

Karlach frowns at him. 

“Hang on,” she ducks down to catch Wyll’s averted eyes. “Are you worried about something in particular?”

Wyll sighs heavily. “Yes, but you must not tell her, you hear me?”

Karlach glances around, her mouth twisting with concern as she rests a solemn hand upon her glowing heart.

“Your secret will be safe with me,” she vows.

“Thank you,” Wyll shifts uneasily. “I… I am worried about her. Looking back, she was quick to suggest Avernus for all of us, and eager to hurry through that portal. I thank the Triad every day we could save you that way. But even after all this time, a small part of me can’t help but worry that it wasn’t only to save you.”

He looks up at Karlach, troubled. “After all, we’re not the only things she has loved, here in Avernus.”

Karlach scoffs an incredulous laugh. “Soldier. Are you seriously thinking that she came here to find—?”

“—Tiamat. And��yes,” Wyll confesses in a hush. “We have been searching for a solution for your heart, but do you ever get the feeling that she’s searching for something else?”

Karlach grimaces. “Soldier...”

“I know I should trust her,” Wyll continues shakily. “And I do, I think. But I also know that some habits... and some beliefs... don’t die so quickly. As my father warned me, one doesn’t simply forsake the teachings of their cult. It takes far more time than Irva had, and far more support than even we were able to give.”

Karlach ponders beside him.

“And if she does find Tiamat? Or if we accidentally stumble upon her?” she prompts him carefully. “What do you fear?”

Wyll huffs a mournful laugh. “I’m afraid I’ll lose her. I’m afraid she’ll still be willing to free Tiamat and unleash her upon the material plane, and even if she isn’t willing, that Tiamat will enthrall her and use her to do the same.”

“Wyll,” Karlach says sternly. “Do you trust Irva?”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, “Yes, I do. Everything is simply so uncertain and I don’t know how to give her the life she wants…!”

“How do you know that this isn’t the life she wants?” Karlach interrupts, before backtracking. “Shit, I don't mean spending her long engagement in Avernus... but the fact is, she’s got two someones she trusts besides her. Two people who love her. I think that’s something special, and she doesn’t need to tell us for me to know that.

“And yeah, I know she still wants to be connected to dragons, but they’re not all bad!” she reminds him. “I heard her talking to the cleric in Stormshore Tabernacle about Bahamut a while back. She didn’t know anything about him back then, so maybe if she begins to talk to someone like him, he could be a good influence. A better deity, if she’s gotta have one at all.

“But going back to what you said… I think I know something of what you’re feeling, Soldier,” Karlach says gently. “I've felt... awful that the two of you are spending your engagement running around with me and not living it up in the city. Hells, you could be a Duke. She could be a duchess. You both could be dancing your asses off at a fancy masquerade ball right now!”

“Such occasions are nothing in the face of what matters," Wyll insists. "If skipping those means you’re safe, it’s more than worth it to me."

Karlach gives him a rueful smile. “I think Irva feels the same.”

Wyll closes his eyes. After a long moment, he looks to Karlach, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I can’t lose her, Karlach.”

“I can’t either… and we won’t, Soldier," Karlach's voice catches as she tears up as well. “Look, we love Irva. She loves us. And I think she loves that world we left behind, too. Think back — she had a chance to take the power offered by the Absolute, and she turned it down in an instant. We have to trust that she knows better than to blindly follow her old scripture. She’s better than that, don’t you think?”

Wyll nods, but something in his face is still doubtful.

“There’s… one more thing,” he confesses in a hush so low that Karlach needs to lean closer to hear him. “I’ve heard her muttering to herself... or someone else... when she’s off on her own. Talking about protection, and portals, and…” he shudders, “...rituals.”

He looks at Karlach. “I don’t doubt that she loves us. But I fear that even if she doesn’t unleash Tiamat for the sake of ending the world, she may somehow be brokering a deal with her for our protection, for a way to walk right into the forge and fix your heart. The truth is… I believe that she would do anything to see us safe.”

[ffffawn]

FFFFAWN.

I have no clue how to introduce this new project I’m working on nor how to feel but hello! My name is Puff and I want to introduce a project that I’m in very early progress with: FFFFAWN!

“What is FFFFAWN?”

- FFFFAWN is a visual novel project that has three routes that leads you into a side of Cervus, a cult permanent residence for the chosen, and how the routed characters and MC end up saving or embracing the cult life themselves from Cervus’ grasp!

- FFFFAWN has dark and mature topics, influenced by the games that inspired FFFFAWN into creation. Age rating is 18+ so minors, do not interact.

“Why the name FFFFAWN?”

- As someone who adores psychology and is a psych student, I named FFFFAWN over the instinctive trauma responses; fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. I’ve always found it interesting, especially when I realized a certain character does use the fawning response a lot.

- I love psychology.

“What can we expect from this blog?”

- I want to track my progress and let some people see it! This is my first time ever doing this things and as someone who is very inexperienced and doing this all solo. The writing, the art, the UI, I’m not sure about the programming/sound design (maybe?) as of now, but..! I’m doing my best as a solo developer (for now! I know it’ll be difficult doing this solo!) until I can determine what I want without being super ambitious about it.

- I also forget a ton, keeping this blog helps me not forget the things I want to remember.

- I also want to do silly little Q&A things! Little silly memes before landing the finished product.

“What medias inspired the development of FFFFAWN?”

- Definitely a lot of games/visual novels. Mystic Messenger and Boyfriend to Death (Two sides of the same spectrum of dark topics, haha!) being the primary inspirations.

- Crywolf’s music as well! Been listening to his amazing music since I was in middle school.

“Who are the characters?”

- I’ll introduce them trying to not reveal their backstory and how they know each other.

Hyejin

To those into typology, she is an INTX, 2w3.

A very, very nice maid to Cervus!

Also a pushover…

A fine specimen to look under a microscope!

Salem

He’s… interesting! (ENTJ, 3w2)

Something feels off about him though.

Is it the fact that he’s ginger or is it the fact that he’s self-proclaiming himself as an “entrepreneur”?

(It’s the fact that he’s ginger.)

Paris

The stench of 2019 TikTok e-boys reeks from this guy!

He is definitely… something.

“I’m not other guys!” He says, telling everyone his typography (INTJ, 8w7) and his astrology big three.

He smells like a red flag, but does he act like one? (You’ll see.)

As of now, I’m keeping their designs a little hushed secret!

Alrighty. I think that’s enough for an information post, is it? Hopefully it is.

Oh! Almost forgot!

If you want to keep track of what I’m doing (Besides having silly hyperfixations over a sickly Victorian puppet and a feral fox-boy, and doing this project.), I have socials where I draw silly those and sometimes these characters.

@starsbirb on Tumblr and Twitter

starsbird on Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok

[sukirichi]

no guidance

pov: you ask your step-brother to guide you in your first time 

part of the everything step cest collab by @dilfhub​ thank you for everything! 💕

note. lol this rotted in my drafts for weeks but i finally finished it eeeee

cw. virginity loss, sexting, mild corruption themes, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), possessive! akaashi-ni, slight dumbification, pseudo-incest (step siblings)

You knew better than to associate with the likes of Miya Atsumu. As if him being one of the most notorious fuckboys in campus wasn’t enough of a warning sign, his reputation was also infamous for being the “Virgin Killer.” In simpler terms, he took pride in corrupting the innocence of whoever was foolish enough to fall into his trap, and yet there you were, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you shamelessly sexted with him.

Unsurprisingly, he’s asking for nudes. Again.

It had been approximately three months since you passed notes with the said Miya twin (and of course you liked the worse of the pair) before your friendship escalated into something...more sexual. It was no secret Atsumu had a high sex drive, something you were still foreign with, so you weren’t really taken aback by his open vulgarity over his desire to fuck you.

The first month, you were nice enough to sent him a snap of your titties. Albeit still a little shy over not having sent anyone such an intimate photo before, you were beyond exhilarated.

The next, you sent him a booty pic. It wasn’t anything sexy since you were only in your campus hoodie, the door locked because you didn’t want your parents walking in on you trying to get a good angle of your rounded buttocks.

And just last week, you finally gained enough courage to take a photo of your glistening pussy, sent with a caption of ‘thinking of you...’

Now, you weren’t stupid despite your preference to act naive and innocent. You knew your actions would entice him to lead into something more, if his dick picks that show him already leaking weren’t enough of a telltale already. But as your phone pinged and his name flashed above your screen, the words, ‘meet you at Issei’s party this weekend? I think I’ve waited long enough’ loud and clear – your heart dropped into your chest.

Without another thought, you shut your phone off and rolled to your side.

The thing was, you’ve never really had sex. You couldn’t even be brave enough to lose your virginity to your hairbrush or to buy a dildo despite your friends’ insistence it was much better than an actual cock (quote unquote: both can make you orgasm, but the former didn’t come with toxic attitudes of horny college boys.)

Sure, you’ve watched porn, and you watched a lot – but nothing could compare to the actual experience of it. Your fingers could only get you so far.

Glancing at your phone that kept lighting up with texts from Atsumu, you felt something stir deep within your stomach. Curiosity? Arousal? Nervousness? Excitement? Perhaps all a mix of both. You’ve heard from all the girls Atsumu’s slept with that even though he meant bad news, his cock could be likened of that of  a blessing that converted them into ‘I hate him’ to ‘Gosh, I wanna fuck him again.’ Addicting, they called him, and now you were being offered a path to being on a path that most likely had no point of return.

You sighed.

The saner part of you warned you to stay away. There was no rush to lose your virginity now. Just because most of your friends had enough experience, it didn’t mean you had to be the same as them. After all, you came from quite...a strict household.

While everyone had been away from their parents and independently living in their dorms, you still stayed under the same roof as your father and step-mom, along with your older brother who was only a year ahead of you. Akaashi was a very sweet presence to have that you didn’t mind not experiencing that ‘youthful freedom’ too much, simply because your brother was a better company than whoever you could room with. He was kind, always ready to help, and you could confidently say you trusted him more than you did your closest friends.

Maybe that was the reason why you knocked at his room past midnight, shifting your weight from one foot to another. The faint sliver of light peeking from the cracks in his door told you he was probably still working on projects and the like, really not a good time to bother him, but you couldn’t hold on any longer.

At the back of your mind, this was the right thing. He was the right person.

“’Kaashi-nii...?” you knocked again, aware that he had a habit of listening to music on full volume while studying. “Are you there? Oh, were you studying, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to barge.”

Your brother stood in front of you, his headphones hung around his neck. He’d swung the door open to reveal that he was, indeed, previously hunched over his desk to work on something. Upon seeing the guilty expression on your face, Akaashi smiled at you in reassurance. “Hey, no, it’s fine,” he ushered you inside, setting you down at the edge of his bed while he sat across you in his swivelling chair. “Do you need help with homework again?”

“No...”

Turning away from him shyly, you opted to fiddle with your fingers as you stared at your lap. You had come here in a whim. You didn’t really think this through, and even though you’d been in his room a thousand times before, his dark blue sheets and tidy room that smelled sweetly of his detergent and vanilla cologne made you feel dizzy.

It didn’t help that he looked so mouth-watering in this light too.

Messy hair, long, slender fingers that absentmindedly spun a pen in those pretty hands of his, his dark eyes hazy and as welcoming as ever under the dim light of his desk lamp – how could you resist?

“What is it?” Akaashi quickly picked up on your silent worries. He’d always been observant, taking his role as your big brother seriously that he had attuned himself to sense even the slightest differences from you. Even though you’d only become family when you were already in middle school, it felt like you had known him for a much longer time than that, his warm hands rubbing soothing circles in your knees pulling the tension away from you.

“You know you can tell your brother everything, right? I’ll listen to you, you don’t need to feel scared or nervous.”

Guess it was now or never... “There’s this boy in my class...”

Akaashi’s eyes immediately darkened. All the warmth in his face disappeared, now replaced with a hardness you didn’t think was possible for such an understanding, patient guy like him. “Is he hurting you, forcing you to do something you don’t like?” his questions shot out one by one, and your eyes widened when he held you firmly by the shoulders. “Do I need to hurt someone?”

“No, no, it’s not like that!”

Your brother relaxed back in his chair. For a moment, your mind conjured up the dirtiest image of bouncing on his cock (and you know his cock is pretty after accidentally walking in on him changing clothes in high school) as he studied, but you quickly shook the thought away with a clear of your throat.

“What’s wrong then?”

You took a deep breath. “I just...I like him a lot and he asked me to have sex with him someday,” your words came out barely above a whisper, the courage seeping out of you until meeting Akaashi’s eyes felt impossible. “I said yes because of course I like him but...I’m afraid.”

“Hey,” Akaashi tilted your chin to look at him, his blue eyes pooling with worry and brotherly concern. “You know you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I just don’t want to disappoint him. I-I’ve never done it before and I feel like I won’t make him feel good. That’s why I came here,” you peered at him under your lashes, tongue darting out to nervously lick at your lips that felt uncomfortably dry. “You told me I could ask you for help in anything and you’re my brother so I trust you a lot to guide me on this one.”

The silence in the room was suffocating.

You were so close to running out of his room and pretending you didn’t exist for the rest of your life because what the hell were you asking? He was your brother, he obviously didn’t see you as a woman. You bet in his eyes, you were nothing but a little sister, and there really was no stopping him from kicking you out of his room until – “You want me to be your first time?”

You looked up at him so fast you actually felt your neck ache from the sudden movement. Heat spread all over your body, especially to your core at the unreadable expression in his eyes, yet it wasn’t...bad. He wasn’t rejecting you.

“Yes, please.”

Akaashi nodded at your hushed words. Slapping his palms to his knees, he walked to his bedside table where he pulled out an inconspicuous bottle with some sort of liquid you weren’t familiar with.

“Okay. Nii-san will teach you everything, but first, I need to prep you.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was actually happening!

You could barely process the events that happened next as he discarded his shirt to the ground, exposing his toned upper body to you from years of playing volleyball. While you sat there frozen and with a frantic beating heart, your brother barely blinked an eye as he gestured for you to take your clothes off. Wordlessly, you pulled your top off and shimmied out of your underwear. Too shy upon being exposed to a male for the first time in your life, you immediately headed towards his bed and closed your eyes, breath heavy and laboured as you waited for his next movements.

Akaashi’s hand went up to your knee, and you flinched at the contact, relaxing only when his soothing smile greeted you. “Lean back for me. Just relax and loosen up, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, Nii-san will make you feel good.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. You were still shy, but you were feeling a lot less nervous. His hypnotizing gestures of caressing your thighs made you sigh in contentment as your head hit the pillow, legs falling open like it was second nature to spread yourself to your brother.

The thought had you biting your lip.

Before you could think too much about it, you felt a cool liquid being spread all over your lips. You gasped and clutched on the sheets out of reflex, staring forward as your brother stared at you cautiously, his lube coated fingers experimentally rubbing circles over your pussy lips. It felt so lewd for him to touch you like that – those same hands that always held yours in your weakest moments – yet it felt so good; the strange sensation tightening your chest.

“I-it’s cold.”

“I’ll warm it up for you,” he reassured, “How far have you gone? Any prior sexual experience?” Akaashi then began to playfully roll your clit between his fingers, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you. He grinned at your reaction – so vocal for him already – and he was determined to hear more of it. “Ever tried sucking someone off?”

“No, but I’ve watched a lot of porn.”

“Porn is different from actual sex, baby,” the nickname fell so effortlessly from his lips that you didn’t dare question it anymore. Not that you could anyway, because the tip of his finger was prodding against your hole that was embarrassingly clenching around nothing. “How about here? Have you tried masturbating?”

“Don’t ask me such embarrassing questions!”

“You’re spread open for me already, you don’t need to be embarrassed,” You covered your face with your hands to hide, but Akaashi pried them away, his grip on your wrist both demanding yet gentle. “Tell me so I know how many fingers I can put inside you. I need to stretch you out.”

“Just one.”

“Louder, baby.”

“Just one finger,” you blurted out, finding it harder and harder to breathe the more he glided his fingers between your slit. Fingering yourself couldn’t even compare to the beauty of having him do the same to you, your arousal only heightened by his dedicated stare at your shaven pussy. From below your bodies, his pants had begun to home a tent.

“Two hurts a little bit and ‘em too sore.”

“What a tight cunt,” he commented with a smirk. “I’ll have to take my time with you then,” You nodded gratefully, about to smile at him with hearts in your eyes when Akaashi slowly slid a finger in. Your moan came out breathless and muted as you stared at him, mouth open in a silent gasp. The intrusion wasn’t anything new but he expertly pumped his finger in and out of it that your walls fluttered around him, head thrown back for another broken moan as he slid another digit. The stretch felt fucking perfect – the slight sting more than welcome in your virgin cunt that was now being fucked by your brother.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel better soon. Just relax.”

Openly, your slight squeaks of pleasure had increased in volume. Akaashi fingered you until he was knuckle deep, his other palm flat on your abdomen. Had you been in a better state of mind that wasn’t previously clouded with pleasure, you would’ve been embarrassed at the loud sloppy sounds of your pussy, but you remained there with trembling thighs, your nails digging at his thigh as you stared at him wide-eyed.

“Feels good?”

“M-more,” you begged through gritted teeth, “Nii-san, more.”

“Not yet, baby, you’re still too tight,” Sooner than you’d like, Akaashi pulled his fingers out of you. Both of you gazed at the webs of arousal between his fingers; your face painted in shock while he smirked at it, chest swelling with pride. Then, his eyes slid over yours, hooking his hands under your knees before he settled between your thighs.

“Come here. I’m going to go down on you.”

“Nii-san, no!” your protests fell on deaf ears, almost as if he knew you didn’t really mean it. His ears knocked with your knees locked around him, and you shivered as you felt his hot breath right before your burning cunt. “It’s embarrassing...don’t want you looking at my kitty like that.”

“Your kitty is very pretty and Nii-san wants a taste of you,” he mumbles while pressing kisses all over your pelvic bone, his sticky fingers massaging your inner thighs into relaxation. Your head pressed back harder on the pillows at the sensation, the pleasure too immense and he was just starting. “Didn’t you say you want me to teach you everything? This is just a few lessons you have to learn so don’t be shy. I’m sure you taste heavenly,” Clenching your jaw from the overwhelming bursts of ecstasy, you failed to notice how he dipped his head further, tongue darting out to lick a flat stripe. Your eyes blew wide open as he torturously and slowly dipped his tongue from your hole, the wet and warm muscle licking all the way up from your slit until the clit. “See? I told you. Heavenly.”

“’Kaashi, ‘Kaashi, oh, oh!”

“You sound so pretty but don’t be too loud,” Somehow, he managed to raise his arms and placed a palm over your mouth. “We don’t want Mom and Dad to overhear.”

Your legs trembled around him until you nearly suffocated him, but how could you stop when he was rolling his tongue side to side, licking and cleaning up the previous wetness he’d pulled from you?

It was too much, too good, and soon you were moaning behind his palm as you came all over his face.

Akaashi greedily slurped up the juices that squirted all over his face, unbothered by the mess you’ve made. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were completely clean, and you were already on the brink of overstimulation when he locked his lips around yours, sucking whatever he could take. Unable to take it any longer, you pushed his head away and fell on your side in a desperate attempt to catch your breath, sending him a seductive glare, only to soften as you his lips, cheeks, and nose shining under the moonlight.

“Nii-san, your face—”

“It’s okay, I’ll clean up for later,” he shrugged it off and stepped out of his sweatpants, ripping a condom you didn’t even notice he had. You watched with baited breath as his cock sprung free, the tip red and glistening with pre-cum. Akaashi rolled the condom over his throbbing cock and situated himself before you, pumping his length a few times before aligning it with your hole, sending you one last look of approval.

“You ready for my cock now? This might hurt a little bit. You just need to relax and I’ll go slow, okay? Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable.”

Nodding, you made yourself comfortable and braced the sheets for preparation, wincing a little as he pushed the tip in. Akaashi felt you clamp down on him, his hips stilling just as he loomed over you, his arms resting beside your head. In this position, you could see each detail of him – the thickness of his lashes, the love blooming in his eyes, the sweat beading in his forehead and everything soft and slow written all over his face.

“Still okay? I can stop if you want.”

You shook your head and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. He raised a brow at your initiation, but you merely smiled at him to hide the mild discomfort. “I can take it, just keep going.”

A few minutes later and a hundred still good? later, Akaashi had slid himself in. He allowed you to get used inch by delicious inch until he was completely seated inside you, hip pressed to hip and his hand caressing your cheek. “You’ve done so well,” he praised, “How does having a cock stuffed in you feel?”

“S-so full,” you replied numbly, the feeling of him throbbing inside your heat so fucking delicious. “Love nii-san’s cock.”

“Yeah? I’ll give you more then,” he warned, and you knew you couldn’t go back anymore when he placed his palm flat beside your head. Akaashi began to move his hips, slowly at first to let you accommodate to his length which your pussy hugged greedily. You were moaning left and right and his groans above you was erotic enough to make you cum on the spot, the pleasure doubling as your pebbled nipples grazed his toned chest.

“Nii-san! So big!”

“I know, baby, you’ll get used to it, don’t worry. It’ll feel better soon,” he rasped, scowling when you raked your nails down his back, though not hard enough to draw blood. It would definitely leave a mark though, and the pain of it urged him to move his hips faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through his room that began to warm by each passing second. “Feel better?”

“Feels so good,” you cried around him, reaching up to bury your head in his neck and clinging to him like a koala. It did feel so good, so much so that you just might get addicted to this. “Love Nii-san’s cock.”

At your words, Akaashi’s patience that thinned a while ago completely broke.

His pace increased and he gripped your hips tightly, sitting back on his knees just to watch his cock slide in and out of you. The lube made sex feel a hundred times better from how easily he’s easily punching through your walls, the sight of you splayed out for him – hair strewn across the pillow, little whimpers leaving your lips, breasts bouncing right before his eyes and abused pussy lips hugging his shaft – it made him growl with possessiveness.

“This is how you should be fucked – you gotta be fucked right,” he announced, thumb coming down to rub your clit. As expected, you cried out and tightened around him.

He faltered for a moment at how tight you were, but he kept pushing, driving his cock in and out of you until he turned into you a sobbing, slobbery mess.

“You sure that boy of yours can make you feel this good?”

“N-no, Nii-san’s cock only!”

“That’s right, it’s just gotta be me, okay?” driving both his hands around your neck just to clench your airway as a warning, Akaashi fucked you harder than before. The sudden inability to not breathe made you impossibly tighter around him that you felt each ridge and vein kissing your bumpy walls. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m Nii-san’s property!”

“I’m gonna mark you as mine, claim this pussy as Nii-san’s only, yeah? You want that?”

“Cum in me, ‘Kaashi, cum inside!” you prompted, and what good of a brother would he be if he didn’t grant his little sister’s wishes? Growling, Akaashi snapped his hips hard until the tip of his cock successfully kept repeating that sweet spot in you that you didn’t even know you had. You were crying, moaning, too fucked to respond as you came, and your lewd expression was all it took before he was releasing his cum inside the condom. “Kaashi, Kaashi, ah!”

Akaashi quickly pulled out his cock and took a minute to regain his breath, his head cradled on his hands at the earth-shattering orgasm you both had. Not a moment later, he’s tying his condom and throwing it to his bin, finding his way right beside you as you blinked sleepily at him.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you were great. Just tired.”

“Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?”

You smiled at his concern, pulling him in closer for an embrace. He was warm and sweaty that it felt uncomfortable, but you wanted him beside you, and Akaashi began to caress your hipbones with so much tenderness. He knew he was a little rough for losing control like that.

“I’d love that, thank you,” you mumbled, more than ready to call it a night and sleep when his weight shifted off the bed. Akaashi rummaged through something in his drawers before he disappeared in the bathroom for a bit, coming back to spread your legs open once more. “Wh-what’re you doing?”

“It’s called aftercare. If your partner can’t provide this and pamper you, I suggest you break up with them,” he snickered, and you hissed at the sensitivity as he wiped away your cum with the towel. You soon relaxed, however, all thanks to Akaashi’s doting nature that you were falling asleep on his bed, allowing him to clean you up as he pleases. He set the towel aside and snuggled right next to you, his nose bumping your jaw to pull you away from dreamland for a little while. His previous sexual aura had now dimmed; his brotherly concern present again. “You still want to fuck your classmate?”

“Hmm...he’s really handsome, and I heard from the other girls he’s got a huge cock too,” you giggled, not really aware of your words as you said, “Probably even bigger than yours.”

Thinking that he might be offended, you almost apologized after a moment, but Akaashi only laughed as he hugged you tighter. “Size doesn’t matter. It’s who owns the cock and their talent in pleasuring their partner that matters,” he confidently stated, fingers running up and down your spine that brought chills down to your toes as he nibbled on your ear. “And I know I fucked you so good he can’t compare.”

[broadwayandnetflix]

i have a request for bo burnham!!:) maybe like the reader and bo watch the special when he gets done editing it and doing all the other stuff he has to do for it, and he records her reaction to the whole thing and that’s how he announces the special?? i know that’s weird but it’s been stuck in my head, so you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!

Test Run - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: FLUFF (angst if you like squint)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: y’all I wrote this so fast, like kachow. I hope you enjoyed it, and got a break from all of the angst. but angst is still good. but this fic is not me fangirling over inside. never, couldn’t be me. I hope you enjoyed the fic though @bos-a-feminist I had sm fun writing it.

It had been late one evening when Bo had practically burst into the door of your bedroom. You sat puzzled as you gave the man time to catch his breath, as he gave you an eager look.

Trying not to giggle as Bruce yipped at Bo’s feet in pure excitement, it seemed he too was trying to figure out what was going on.

“What? Are we finally gonna have sex again?” you say humorously, causing the man to break composure for just a second.

“No! I mean what the fuck? Yes, yes, and to answer your question, yes. But not right now.”

You giggle as he looks at you with an expression you couldn’t fully decipher. In any constellation, it had been months since you had seen the man this energetic.

Usually, when Bo would come back from his long days in the guest house, he’d tend to be exhausted. Often just giving you a quick kiss before collapsing onto the mattress.

His blue eyes softening towards you as he extends his hand for you to take. Which made you realize that there was an ounce of seriousness in his actions.

Your hands fitting perfectly in his as he pulls you up from the bed, one hand making sure to hold the small of your back.

“Where are we going?” you breathe out.

Bo remained silent, but you found out soon enough as he led you outside to the guest house.

You had stopped dead in your tracks, causing him to do the same. Eyes widening as you realized what was gonna happen, turning to Bo and giving him the biggest grin you could muster.

From the minute he had set foot in the guest house to begin his special, he had been very secretive about it. Something about how it helped him to create something that no one really knew about.

I mean, you had some idea when the UPS trucks kept delivering camera equipment. Or when he had asked if he could take some of your clothes. Other than that, though, top secret.

It had been about roughly a little over a year when he had started the special. A year of emotions and hard work, and by the looks of it.

It seemed as though he had finished.

“Wait are you doing what I think you are doing?” you say, looking at him expectedly.

“Shit babe you catch on quick. Yes, if we are on the same mindset. I think we are, now hush, or I’ll never get to show you it.” Bo instructs before leading you inside.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect. The last time you had seen the guest house had been roughly two years ago. Now? It looked completely different.

Wires and different camera equipment lay waste on the floor, making it almost a hazard. Other lights of various types and sizes filled the room like mini metal trees. It looked disorganized and yet organized at the same time.

Yet Bo walked through the maze of equipment with ease, almost as if it wasn’t even there. You smiled before tiptoeing to the clearing that Bo had made for you.

“Yeah apologies, I wasn’t expecting company.” Bo smirks as you break into laughter.

“It looks…well it looks well used.” you reply, getting comfortable on the chair he had provided.

In front of you sat a projection on the wall of what seemed to be an editing software. You looked back at Bo with an eager grin; he gives you a slight wink.

Anticipation settling in the air as you watched him mess around with the monitor. Until his cursor finally presses on a folder and a video screen pulls up.

You half expected him to sit beside you. Still, instead, he remains behind the computer, amongst his sea of technological instruments and cameras.

“Y/N, I’m showing this to you. Simply because you deserve to see why I’ve been so busy for like a year or more. Plus, you mean the world to me and I wanna know your input.”

Bo says softly. You can detect a hint of nerves in his actions and tone; you practically melt, realizing that was he anxious. Regardless you knew without a shadow of a doubt you were gonna love whatever he puts out.

You open your mouth to reply before he presses play, and an eerie ringing fills the room. Music filling your senses as the special, titled Inside, plays before you.

The next hour or two fills you with a multitude of emotions that you can’t quite place. It seemed like Bo was making you laugh seconds ago, and now you can’t help but feel tears well up in your eyes.

Cinematically it was stunning, breathtaking even. It was hard to believe that Bo had turned the little guest house into a studio. Or at least to the extent that it became, with its gorgeous displays and production.

Performance-wise, it was a completely different ballpark. Bo fucking delivered in more ways than one, whether in humor or just pure raw emotion.

Acting or not, it broke your heart to see the man you loved so dearly in the state that he was in. Of course, you could tell something was up even then when he was filming, but he never gave away the extent of it.

Just hearing him cry made your stomach twist in knots; you wanted to comfort him. Only to be reminded that it was just merely a video of him.

Even at the moment, it took you everything not to look back at Bo; you knew how much he valued your attention. Plus, you wanted to experience the special in full, just as you would if he were on stage.

The special wasn’t the same as his others, but it was well needed for a time like this. It felt personal and introspective, but it was also oh so clever and in-depth. You adored it and the time and effort that he had put into it.

As the credits rolled out and you saw an acknowledgment for your name, your heart soared.

You knew that the two of you had worked hard to be there for each other the past year. Especially with everything that was going on and Bo working most of the time.

To know that you had helped him in any shape or form. It just meant a lot, in more ways than he’d ever know.

The lights in the room flickered on as if he had made a make-shift movie theatre. You wiped away any stray tears, and before he could even say anything, you ran into his arms.

Bo jolting back in surprise before accepting the embrace and holding you tighter into his chest. His head resting gently on top of yours due to his taller stature.

“God I love you so much, more than you’ll ever know. I seriously don’t know if I would’ve made it out alive this past year if I didn’t have you.” he croaked into your hold.

It took you a second to realize that the man was crying, and you pulled away to meet his eyes. Your fingers brushing away his tears before reaching up to give him a kiss.

His figure bending down just a tad to meet your lips as he kisses you back sweetly. It’s light and yet so filled with passion for making up for what time that had been lost.

Yet as he looks down at you, a smile etching across his lips. As he asks you about what your thoughts are on his special, he already knows your response.

Unbeknownst to you, he had recorded your entire viewing experience. Of course, if he were to ever share it anywhere, he’d ask your permission, but it was apparent.

Even as you told him how much you loved it and how much you enjoyed it. You knew that he knew that you understood the special the way he had intended it.

It was one of the many things that made him adore you endlessly. You meant the world to him.

“We should celebrate babe! Maybe order a pizza or something.” you exclaim, arms still wrapped around his neck in your embrace.

“We definitely should, but what pizza places are open at this hour?” Bo smirks as you give him a slight frown.

“I don’t know, that’s a good question.” you hesitate.

“Actually I do know one place that’s really good and delivers.” Bo whispers seductively up against your ear.

You giggle and gesture for him to continue as he swiftly pulls away from your hold. His hand outstretched for you to take once again as he leads you towards the house. Or, more importantly, towards your bedroom.

“Me.”

——————————————————————------------------------------------

Bo sat anxiously beside you as his fingers lingered over the ‘post’ button on his different social media accounts.

The post in question was a video that he stitched together of you watching the special. With your consent, of course.

It had been edited together to be vague enough that he wouldn’t spoil the special. But nonetheless, it was sweet, and he totally made sure to include you tearing up in it.

You made it a priority to tackle him for that one.

The video was sweet and short, but it got the intended message across, and you personally loved it, just like you loved Bo and the special.

“Any-day now Robert.” you tease as you hold his one hand in yours.

“Do you think that they’ll wanna watch it?” he whispers quietly.

“Of course they will, it’s you. Baby you are so talented, your fans will be so excited.” you reassure.

Bo sighs before squeezing your one hand tightly before pressing the button. And letting Inside out into the world.

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 6

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

A/N: hehe my mistake, i forgot to queue up this update and by the time i realized it was too late so i'm posting this a day late ^^

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88 @straykisz @theultimaterad @margaritas-en-la-montania @meowtella @xsam1992x

The man froze in his tracks after entering the room and catching you laying on the couch with Bang Chan on top, practically devouring you. He looked scarred, to be frank, as he quickly snapped back to reality and bolted out the door in less than a second. As he made his grand escape, you forcefully pushed Bang Chan off of you. He swore under his breath before tripping out the door, trying to follow the man who had just caught you.

You sat up, head in your hands. This was exactly what you were scared of. What you worried so much about a few nights back. What Bang Chan reassured you of not happening.

You feel panic set in as you thought of the worst case scenario. Yup. You were going to get fired for sure. And the news will go to the public, resulting in Bang Chan also losing his job. You would then have to move back with your parents, and everybody will have the same look of shame and pity whenever they see you.

This wasn’t good. You stood up to make your own inconspicuous escape, but it seemed like Bang Chan beat you to the door.

“That was Jisung,” Bang Chan said. He entered, making sure to lean against the door just in case anybody else wanted to intrude.

The name and the face clicked in your mind. He was part of Stray Kids as well as Bang Chan’s coworker. You recognized him more commonly as Han, as his name has come up in a lot of the work you’ve been sent.

“What did he say?” you asked skeptically. Worry was setting in.

“Don’t worry, he said he wouldn’t tell anybody. I trust him.”

How were you supposed to believe that? You’ve never even spoken to this man in your life, and now you were supposed to put the future of your career in his hands?

“But I don’t, Chan. I’ve never even met this guy in real life before. How can I trust that he won’t tell one of your other group members?” You heard your voice get louder with every word.

“I had a talk with him just now, Y/n, you can trust him. Out of everybody in this company, he’s the least likely to tell just anybody — even one of our members.” He paused, “don’t you trust me, Y/n?”

You were speechless. Your trust in him was completely different from your trust in Jisung, and you were sure he knew that. Obviously you trusted Bang Chan, but you didn’t know the extent that his group members would go to for a secret. Especially one that could have an effect on their careers as well.

“You can’t just ask me that, and you know it,” you sneered. “You know what? It’s my fault. I was too careless. I’ll leave now.”

“Wait, Y/n-”

You didn’t even let him finish before stomping out the door, making sure to check your surroundings for anybody that could catch you before heading back up to your cubicle. You felt the heat of your cheeks the whole elevator ride.

You were on edge for the rest of the day. When Manager Chen asked to see you in her office, you were so startled that you quite literally jumped from your seat. You were sure somebody had informed her of what happened, but it turned out that she just wanted to rearrange the usual Friday meeting.

Because of the filming tomorrow, the project meeting had to be arranged for next week. Which you were fine with, of course, since you did not want to face all your managers in one place after what had just happened.

Throughout the rest of the day, you started to feel more and more guilty for how you reacted at lunch. As your mind cleared, you realized how rash you were with your decision making and how you only thought about yourself. You also thought about how rude it was to talk about Jisung like that, especially in front of Bang Chan — who cared a lot about the boy.

Logging off your email for the day, the thought of Bang Chan still lingered bitterly in your mind. You wished to apologize for your harsh behaviour, so you started to make your way over to his producing room.

However, you hadn’t even made it on the elevator before you were stopped.

“Hey, uhm — you might not recognize me, but I’m the guy from earlier. Han Jisung.”

He was standing politely behind you, hands folded together behind him.

“Hello, I still remember. You know, from earlier,” you awkwardly breathed out a laugh. You didn’t know what to say or why he was here.

“Hyung told me I could find you here and that I should apologize.” He took his hands out from behind him. “He also said that this might help.”

In his hand was a bottle of mango juice. Your heart warmed at the thought of Bang Chan still caring for you, despite you being such a jerk earlier.

“Anyways,” he continued, “I’m sorry for barging in like that and leaving so suddenly. I should’ve knocked or something before coming in, but Chan-hyung is somebody I’m very close to. I would never jeopardize him in any way.”

Hearing him apologize made you realize how little thinking you had done. Jisung regularly worked with Bang Chan, so of course he would just enter the room without knocking.

“Thanks for your apology, but I should be apologizing. I was the one being reckless. You did nothing wrong, Jisung. I trust that you wouldn’t tell anybody of this.”

“Thanks,” he said as the both of you entered the elevator.

The both of you stood in silence for a bit before he started again.

“So, Chan hyung huh.” He raised his eyebrows. “You know, he’s the best looking one out of all of us… after me of course.”

“Oh my god.” You blushed, head in your hands as he kept elbowing you.

“But, Y/n.” He got all serious again. His serious-playful demeanor was giving you whiplash. “You know what you’re doing is dangerous, right? Not only for him, but also for you. I love our fans, but there are some that have taken it too far before. I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“Thanks Jisung,” you started, “for that and for keeping this secret.”

“Of course, any ‘friend’ of Hyung's is a friend of mine.” He winked, causing you to heat up from embarrassment again.

The elevator reached Jisung’s floor, and he got out.

“Oh, also, I think you should call Chan hyung. He’s been pretty down this whole afternoon, and even my natural charisma couldn’t cheer him up.”

You thanked him for the last time before the elevator doors closed, promising him that you would contact Bang Chan.

And you did — as soon as you were alone in the elevator.

One ring. Two rings. A third.

“Hello?” He sounded out of breath.

“Chan?”

“Yes, Y/n?”

Crap, he sounded annoyed.

“Uhm, can we meet up somewhere? I-I wanted to talk to you.”

There was a slight pause.

“I’m at the gym right now. We could meet at the playground by the river in an hour.”

“Ok.” You hung up after that. It was a weird phone call. From his voice alone, you could obviously tell something was bugging him. You knew you were that something.

Grabbing a quick bite at a nearby convenience store, you started your journey to the playground. It wasn’t too far of a walk, but you decided to go earlier since it was already starting to get dark.

You hoped Bang Chan wasn’t in too much of a bad mood, especially after your conversation with Jisung. Honestly, you weren’t too excited to apologize. Not because you didn’t feel bad, but because of his cold and monotone voice through the phone. You didn’t want to admit it — especially because you had just met this man a few weeks ago — but you were scared of his possible rejection. It terrified you.

Breathing into your hands for warmth, you finally saw the playground up ahead. It was near the river, but covered by trees. You now understood why Bang Chan picked this place.

It was empty, as you assumed no child would want to play tag on a cold and dark evening. You sat on a swing, mindlessly swinging up and down whilst staring at the upcoming moon. The sound of crickets chirping combined with the cool autumn breeze almost brought you to serenity, but the thought of confronting Bang Chan grounded you back to earth.

You turned your head at the sound of panting. Bang Chan had jogged here. The ends of his hair were damp with sweat, stuck to his forehead. You wanted to call him crazy, as the only thing he wore was a sleeveless tank top and a pair of shorts on a cold autumn night.

He made his way to the swings.

“Hey,” he said, hopping on to the swing beside you. He was still out of breath from jogging.

“Hey,” you paused for a few seconds to think of what to say. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I wasn’t thinking. I know you care about your job as well, and it was selfish of me to walk out on you. I’m also sorry for talking about Jisung like that. I met him this afternoon and he seemed like a good guy. And if there’s anything else I missed, I’m sorry for that too.”

You looked up at Bang Chan with puppy eyes, hoping that he would understand. He looked back at you.

“I accept your apology, Y/n. And look, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been so reckless, especially at the office. I knew that anybody could have walked in, and I was careless. We were lucky this time, but next time we might not be.”

“Next time?” Your eyes brightened.

“Y/n,” he got up, “I’m scared. I’m scared that I feel this way about you after only a few weeks. I’m terrified of losing my job, my coworkers, and friends. But Y/n, I just want you. I’m laying all my cards out on the table. This is how I feel, what about you?”

That was a lot to take in. Your grip tightened on the swing.

“Chan, everything you just said, I feel the same way. Everything about this scares me, but I just want you. Only you.”

You got up and wrapped your arms around him. You felt the cold sweat of his arms against your skin, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be near him.

He wrapped his arms around you in return, digging his nose into your neck. You felt his damp hair against your skin.

“Chan, you’re all sweaty,” you teased, pushing his head away.

“I don’t care.” His words came out muffled against your neck as he dug his nose further.

“I feel like a kid being in a playground.” You scanned the empty playground, reminiscing on your childhood.

“Would a kid do this?”

Bang Chan, with his fingers on your chin, turned his head to kiss you so deep you thought you were going faint. You returned the kiss, hands gripping hard on to the sides of his tank. It seemed like the two of you were in your own little world.

“You should go. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day,” Bang Chan said after eventually breaking the kiss.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, trying to stall for time. You knew that the both of you should get going.

Eventually, after quite a while, you left for home. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. A very cute and dimple-y weight.

That evening, you packed all your necessities for the overnight shoot tomorrow, and fell asleep with high hopes for the next day. You were excited to see all your — along with the production team’s — efforts come to fruition.

The next morning, you woke up early and energized. You double checked that everything was ready before heading out to the JYPE building.

Manager Chen had informed you of which van you would be riding in to the set. Although she wasn’t in the vehicle with you, you had the opportunity to chat amongst some other very interesting members in the production crew.

After a few hours of driving, your van — along with the others — arrived. You helped the production crew set up as much as you could, as you were told the boys already started filming their drive to the set. Whilst waiting for the boys to come, you socialized around with both the production crew and Manager Chen.

Soon, after chatting for a bit, you saw the long awaited van pull up to the set. The boys got out, one by one, each holding their own little video cameras.

Bang Chan got out last. He looked amazing, really. With his hair and makeup done and his outfit styled, he was almost like a different person. You’ve never seen him without black on, but this was a surprisingly refreshing look.

It was chaos. With every boy at their peak energy, there was never a boring moment on set. It was clear that everybody — even the quieter ones — had established nice dynamics within the group. You watched them in awe, with Manager Chen telling you the behind happenings every now and then.

You found it so hard to hold in your laughter as the boys attempted to make mooncakes. It reminded you of your childhood; when you used to do the same with your mother.

As Bang Chan read off the script which you helped with, you felt a certain sense of pride in your heart. You smiled at him as he expressed himself to the camera.

It was dinner time for the boys, so that meant dinner for you and the crew as well. You followed the production team to a noodle restaurant. It was a small and cute, grandma-grandpa owned place. The menu, however, was huge.

“Y/n, this is Manager Jung,” Manager Chen said. She directed your gaze to a guy who looked in his late twenties. You instantly recognized him as the manager that drove you home on your first day of work.

“We’ve met before,” he said.

“You have?” Manager Chen was surprised.

“We have, but it’s nice to meet you under better circumstances,” you blushed. You hoped that you didn’t leave too bad of a first impression with him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve only heard good things about you from Manager Chen,” he said. “Actually, we were just discussing the sleeping arrangements for tonight.”

“Yes, we’ve managed to book a place that has enough rooms for everybody to sleep alone. They’re not the best of rooms, but this was the best we could do with our budget,” Manager Chen said.

“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. You were fully expecting to share a room with five other women.

You had a happy evening, eating and chatting before getting back to work. You watched as the boys carried out every production order to a tee, all the while keeping up their high energy even late into the night.

You helped the production crew with setting up fireworks for their next segment. Even the act of setting up got you excited as you haven’t seen fireworks in so long. Especially in a new country.

The rest of the filming went smooth, with the end slate following the last firework of the evening. You watched as the boys all lined up in a straight line to thank the production and camera crew. Bang Chan’s eyes landed right on yours. You smiled. He smiled back.

The boys were then ushered by Manager Jung into their own hostel, and you followed the crew to your room. The room was lit by a small incandescent light bulb. It was a small room with nothing but a mat for the floor, a small blanket, and a pillow. Though, to be fair, you weren’t expecting much.

You laid out the mat and blanket, washed up, and was about to call it in when you received a text from Bang Chan.

Bang Chan: You looked cute today.

You blushed, not aware that Bang Chan had even seen you during the day. He looked so busy with filming the whole time that you hadn’t even made eye contact. You smiled and returned the text.

Y/n: You too ^^

And with that, you peacefully fell asleep.

You had a tranquil dream; with only clouds, and sunshine, and… Manager Jung?

“Y/n!” he called.

Your dream clone hopped over to him to say hello.

“Y/n!” He called again. He looked worried. “Y/n!”

You suddenly jolted awake.

“Y/n! Hurry, get out!” He was coughing, holding the hem of his shirt up to his face.

You looked at him. His silhouette was clouded by smoke. You looked up.

The light bulb hanging from was burning and emitting a smoke of some kind. You gasped in shock, instantly regretting it as you breathed in a large amount of the smoke.

Manager Jung was already running outside at this point, and you quickly ran after him. Along the way you tried to hold your breath, but with every inhale you took in, a cloud of smoke followed. You coughed and kept running.

It seemed as if you were the last person out, as everybody staying at the hostel had already evacuated. Manager Chen was standing outside, a look of worry on her face.

“Y/n, are you okay?” She ran over to you.

“Yes,” you coughed. You still felt the smoke in your throat. “What happened?”

“The light bulb in your room caught on fire,” Manager Jung intervened. “Manager Chen was still awake when she smelled the smoke, and she evacuated everybody inside. Everybody woke up except you, Y/n.”

“Is everybody else okay?” you asked. You could hear how hoarse your voice sounded.

“Everybody else is alright. For some reason, the fuse shortage was only isolated to your room,” Manager Chen replied.

It was unfortunate that, out of all the rooms, the broken light bulb was in yours. However, you were glad that everybody else was safe. You were also thankful that Manager Jung woke you up in time, leaving you with only a sore throat.

“Hyung!”

You whipped your head to the direction of the voice. Bang Chan was sprinting across the dirt path in your direction. His hair was disheveled and his t-shirt wrinkled. Behind him was Jisung, dashing over so fast that he somehow managed to match Bang Chan’s pace. Jisung threw his hand, catching the back of Bang Chan’s shirt, pulling him back. Jisung then said some incoherent words to Bang Chan, which seemed to have slowed him down. Bang Chan took a couple deep breaths before waiting for his other members and walking over to you and the crew.

“What happened? Is everybody okay?” Bang Chan asked, concerned. He glanced at you before facing Manager Jung again.

“Everybody is fine,” Manager Jung reassured him. “There was a problem with the light bulb in a crew member’s room, but everybody has evacuated now. You and the boys don’t need to worry. Just go back to your rooms as you have a long day tomorrow.”

“Whose room was it?” Bang Chan asked, ignoring everything Manager Jung had just told him.

Manager Jung hesitated before pointing at you. Upon realization, Bang Chan jerked forward, only to be stopped by Jisung again. He gave Bang Chan a look.

“I’m okay,” you coughed out. It was hard to not sound so hoarse when you had just been breathing in smoke for god knows how long.

Bang Chan gave a deadpan look to Manager Jung.

“We have extra rooms where we’re staying, maybe Y/n can stay with us?” he asked.

“That is unnecessary, I will let Y/n use my room and I will stay with you. I’m sure Y/n would be on board,” Manager Jung said. He looked over to you, and you nodded in agreement.

“I guess that would work,” Bang Chan hesitantly said, “but what if this happens again with another room?”

“I’m sure that won’t-”

“Manager Jung!” Manager Chen interrupted, waving her hands whilst running over. “A member of our production crew took a look at the fuse box connected to Y/n’s room, and it seems like somebody tampered with the wires on purpose.”

[sunlight-moonrise]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.” 

Fine, have it your way, Sir. 

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

[phoenixyfriend]

If you are doing them the soulmate fic starter 3 or 9 for rexwalker? I love all your star wars stuff so much

soulmate au prompts

3. the one where you and your soulmate have matching marks on your bodies. 9. the one where your soulmate’s last words to you are written on your body.

Featuring marginally-less-terrible Jango with more excuses than usual.

------

The Kaminoans hate soul marks.

Rex knows this from the day he knows to ask. The Nulls and Alphas don’t have any soul marks, just scars where there was once a promise. The eldest clones have records, at least, where the scientists had taken photos before beginning th surgeries, but the marks themselves are long gone.

Prime had found out about the removals and thrown a fit, raging so intensely that Nala Se had ended up intubated from the damage he’d dealt, and she hadn’t been the only one. Rex isn’t old enough to remember that, but Cody is, and he whispers the story in the dead of night more than once. Nobody likes Prime very much, except Boba, but that’s one of the few instances they can point to and say ‘he cares more than he likes to admit.’

It’s anathema on Mandalore, one brother claims, a light in his eyes that Rex hasn’t ever seen before. That’s what I heard him telling one of the aruetti trainers.

So is refusing your children so much as a name, another grouses, and the conversation dies an ugly little death. So is letting your children die just because you don’t think they’re good enough. So is turning your back from even letting them be part of your house, let alone part of your clan. Sounds like he cares more about our soul marks than he does for our lives.

Rex doesn’t know how to address that. He does get a personal visit from Prime, one day, gets asked to show his little marking to the man that is, in some ways, his father.

“Another one,” Jango Fett mutters to the trainer that came with him, the woman holding a datapad and ready to record whatever it is that they’re looking for. He passes a thumb over the marking, frowning. “A lightsaber, lit white, with pale blue halo, between a set of symbolic Jaig eyes. The eyes are dark blue, slightly desaturated. I think they’re meant to frame it like an exaggerated beskad crossguard.”

“Sir?” Rex asks.

“That makes six,” Jango says, still so quiet, and then shakes his head. “Thank you for showing me, 7567.”

“Rex,” he corrects, before he can second-guess himself. “I’m Rex.”

“Thank you, Rex.”

------

The rumors say that anyone with a lightsaber soul mark is going to have a jedi for a soulmate.

Rex isn’t sure how true that is, but he’s eager to find out.

Prime gets more erratic, more unpleasant at times and almost awkwardly nice at others. Rex meets the others who got Jedi soul marks. He’s the youngest, so far.

Jango tells them all to hide the markings, and to keep them secret. They’d already all known that much, that only batchmates should be told about soul marks. All the adults that should know already do, after all.

“Where’s your dad going?” Rex asks once, when Boba’s been handed over to Cody’s squad for looking after while Prime goes haring off on some trip that nobody gets to know about. Rex hangs out with Cody’s squad more than his own batch, it feels like, but that’s a whole thing that he’s not supposed to talk about since the late transfer to command track.

“Dunno,” Boba says, kicking his feet back and forth. “My soul mark came in. Something about it made him really angry, I think.”

Rex doesn’t ask to see it.

It’s not his place.

------

The Alpha batch is getting quieter, angrier, and end up in hushed conversations with Prime and some of the trainers so often that the rumors start up harder than before. Rex keeps his head down, because the Kaminoans get antsier when Jango does. Soul marks come up more often, and Rex gets called in to talk to the Alpha clones about his mark. He’s not supposed to, but Prime says it’s important, and Prime is in charge.

“Oh, is that all it took?” one of the Alphas sneers, and Prime shoots them a look that has Rex taking a few hasty steps back. The Alpha clone isn’t even fully grown yet, by natborn standards, but they don’t back down. “What, ready to stop being a dar’buir--”

“That’s enough,” Prime says, low and hard, and the Alpha clone rolls their eyes. “There’s a child here.”

“So now you care about that?”

Rex is escorted back to his rooms.

------

Decommissioning finally stops, for all that it requires Jango almost decapitating a Kaminoan, and someone Rex hopes he never sees again shows up.

(His memory is blurred. He’s sure the man was human, and tall. Elderly enough to have white hair, probably? A... there was fabric that swished when he turned, something dramatic, but...)

(He is not the only one that cannot remember.)

It takes years for anything else to come of it all... at least where the clones can see.

------

Rex is fully grown, as far as clones go. His aging is supposed to slow down to ‘natborn normal’ now, because he’s reached his full height and most of his brainpower, and he’s officially old enough to fight on the field if the war starts tomorrow.

It might.

“Hey, look up.”

Rex listens, and looks, and sees a natborn with Nala Se, pale skinned and with reddish hair, soaked to the bone. They wear robes, brown and heavy-looking. Even as he watches, another natborn jogs up from behind, also sodden and pale, but with darker hair that sticks up despite the water. A third joins them, a tad slower and more controlled; this one wears all white, and they--maybe she?-- are slight and small and poised in a way that Rex thinks might be how a natborn leader carries themselves, if they aren’t a soldier.

They pass on through the walkway, showing emotions that the Kaminoans can’t read and the clones absolutely can. None of it is... good.

“Shit,” someone mutters. “That was a Jedi.”

“Venn--”

“What if they don’t want us?”

------

Rex is called to Prime’s rooms.

He tries not to look at the wide eyes of the brothers he’s been gossiping with, just stands and pulls on his full kit. He hesitates at his bucket, but then pops it on and marches to what might be his doom. It’s probably not.

He hopes it’s not.

He knocks, and is let in by Boba, and sits down on the couch when Prime tells him to. He removes his helmet when asked. Boba hops up onto the couch between Rex and his father, and leans in against Rex’s side.

There’s a list on the table, one he recognizes, quickly writing out all the paired elements on the Jedi-Clone soul marks. Nobody who isn’t already involved in the project would know it. He spots the ‘yellow tickets’ that Bly got tattooed on his face recently, the ones he won’t claim are or aren’t related to his mark. He spots his own listing of Jaig eyes.

“Prime?”

His... progenitor, maybe, in this situation, looks at him, and holds up a hand. “You saw the list. You can guess why Rex is here.”

Oh. Prime’s using his name without prompting. That’s nice.

“I can’t read it,” the younger Jedi says, with something that might be a pout. Rex wants  to roll his eyes, but his helmet is on the table. People would see.

“It’s in Mando’a,” the elder tells him, voice low, and then glances between Rex and the younger Jedi. “Fett, how did you know which one to call? I can guess some things, but--”

“I have a good eye. The hilts are all different. Only one matches.”

“I see.”

Rex fidgets, and tries not to wonder at... at... oh. The younger Jedi’s lightsaber hilt does match Rex’s soul mark.

Boba notices when Rex starts picking at his glove, pressing a finger right to the mark on his wrist, and frowns up at him. He grabs Rex’s hand to still it, and tries to ask a question with his eyebrows. He is mostly unsuccessful.

“Anakin,” the elder Jedi says. Rex still doesn’t know his name. “Your hand, please?”

“Why?”

“...you’ll understand in a minute,” the Jedi says, long-suffering in the way of the trainers who dealt with the youngest cadets. “Your hand. No, the other one.”

“Why do you need my hand?”

“Reasons, Anakin. You there, ah... Rex, was it?”

“Yessir.”

The Jedi flinches. “Right. I suppose I’ll have to get used to that... right, Rex, can you come here? I imagine you know what it is that I’m looking to compare.”

Rex has been taught to listen to Jedi, but he has no idea who he’s supposed to listen to here. The older Jedi is probably in charge, but Rex hasn’t been assigned to anyone yet, so isn’t Prime still technically the closest thing he has to a CO?

He glances at Prime, who just gestures for Rex to go ahead with it.

Rex pulls off a glove, pulls back his sleeve, and bares the symbol on his wrist for inspection.

The younger Jedi’s face morphs from confused irritation to surprise, and then... something Rex doesn’t want to analyze too closely. He’s not sure if it’s wonder or horror. He wasn’t aware the expressions could look so similar.

The Jedi--Anakin--pulls back his own sleeve, moves his wrist to Rex’s and watches as the marks glow faintly from the proximity.

“Looks like Fett was right,” the elder Jedi mutters. He doesn’t sound happy. He looks at the other natborn, the one Rex is pretty sure is a woman, and raises an eyebrow.

She shakes her head, eyes closed.

“You said there were others?” the elder Jedi prompts, and Prime nods. “We are no more open about our marks than most, but I can spot one, maybe two, that I can guess at. I’d need to see the actual markings to confirm, of course, and I imagine that wouldn’t be something anyone would be happy with.”

“The rest can happen naturally,” Prime dismisses. “This was just proof.”

“Not just proof, I hope,” the Jedi mutters. “I’m.. I have to call the Council.”

Rex sees the panic in Anakin’s face, and is seized by the urge to do something, anything, to fix it.

“Obi-Wan, you can’t let them--”

“Nobody’s going to separate you,” the elder Jedi says. Obi-Wan, apparently. “And there’s no ‘let,’ Anakin, they outrank me. Significantly. Right now, I’m concerned about the implications of this war, of multiple of these cloned soldiers that have been indoctrinated to fight for and serve the Jedi having soulmates among us, especially given that I have no idea how recently our wartime protocols on such things were updated. There is an entire army that is supposedly in our name, ordered by a man ten years dead.”

“Count Dooku is involved,” Prime says, dark and satisfied and petty. “Calling himself Darth Tyrannus. The Kaminoans mostly believe he is an isolated and reclusive Jedi Master that serves as their contact when Sifo-Dyas is unavailable.”

The Jedi named Obi-Wan closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and then stands. “Right. That’s... well, alright, I absolutely have to call the Council now.”

Prime smiles, pulling Boba into his side. Rex finds himself tugged down to sit where Obi-Wan had been a few moments earlier.

“Why are you telling us all this?” the natborn woman says. “This Count sounds like he hired you, did he not?”

“The project predated his involvement, but yes, he’s my supervisor, so to speak.” Prime smiles that same dark smile, runs a hand over Boba’s head and pointedly doesn’t look at Obi-Wan. That smile is... unpleasant. Rex doesn’t want to look at it, and so he looks down to the faint glow at his wrist instead. “Did you know, they told me the clones would be sub-sentient and halfway to droids? Not really people? That my DNA was for the bodies, but the minds would be little more than lines of code? Do you know how much they hated that I saw the evidence of their lies written into my children’s skin?”

Rex jolts, head whipping about and hand pulling away from his soulmate, staring at Prime, his mouth agape in a way a soldier’s shouldn’t but--but he’s--

Rex has never, ever heard the Prime refer to any of them except Boba as his child. His copies, his echoes, his clones, but not his children.

A hand curls into his, and he looks down to find Anakin’s lacing their fingers together. He looks up into a hopeful, unsure smile.

Anakin tilts his head and leans in, lips to Rex’s ear, and says, “When I told Obi-Wan he was like a father to me, he didn’t even know how to respond. Just made a bad joke about it and then pretended it didn’t happen. Is this the same?”

“...close enough,” Rex breathes out, because now isn’t the time to explain just how different a clone’s existence is from what they’ve seen in the holos meant to prepare them for interacting with civilians. That ‘family’ here has always been brothers, your squad and any brother that chooses to take you on, or a brother you choose to nurture, that the Alphas raise them more than Prime or the trainers do, that the older squads are who they turn to because the adults won’t help, that they don’t have parents, and they are discouraged from thinking of children in their futures.

(Protecting intellectual property, one of the scientists had mused. They’d made it very, very difficult for any of the clones to impregnate a partner. Not impossible, because to make it impossible was itself impossible, but... nearly so.)

“There’s millions of us,” Rex says instead. “He doesn’t... he doesn’t usually acknowledge most of us as his.”

Anakin’s face twists, already angry, and the glare he aims at Prime is ghastly. Rex might already be a little in love, just for that. The way Anakin’s fingers squeeze around his is nice, too.

Prime does not notice.

“Can I see the contract you say you signed?” the natborn woman says, and Prime eyes her. He nods, at length, weighing her worth and finding she measures up to whatever it is that he’s decided is necessary.

“Boba, go pack like we’re going on a hunt,” Prime says, pulling out a personal datapad and only dropping his gaze to find the right file. “We’ll probably be leaving tonight.”

“Okay, buir,” Boba says, sliding off the couch. “Am I telling the Alphas the thing you said?”

“No, I’ll handle that myself. You just pack.” He stands, nods to the natborn woman, and moves around the table. “Senator, I’ll sit with you, if you don’t mind. I imagine you and Knight Kenobi are the best suited to get this problem fixed.”

“And me?” Anakin demands.

“You,” Prime says, with a just a hint of condescending drawl. “have just met your soulmate. I assumed you’d want some privacy to get to know each other.”

Anakin flushes, a little angry and a lot embarrassed. It’s frighteningly cute. “I--I mean--I don’t--”

“The clones are mentally the ages they look, but do remember they’ve had practically no time to gain any sort of experience,” Prime says, already ignoring them in favor of pointing something out on the datapad to the senator. “Take advantage of any of my kids, and I’ll be the one hunting you down. I’m told I’m rather good at it.”

Anakin’s face does some acrobatics. Rex would pay more attention, but he can feel himself turning just as red.

“Rex, you know where the private meeting room is,” Prime says, and waves a hand in the direction of the tiny, tiny office that’s by the door. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Be nice,” the Senator hisses, smacking Prime’s arm.

“He’s ten.”

“...still.”

Rex just stands and pulls Anakin away to the little room before things can get worse.

They’re delayed when Obi-Wan asks what they’re doing from the kitchen he’s been using to get a spot of privacy, but then Anakin says “we’re just going to talk, Master,” and they get an aggrieved sigh and a response of “the clothes stay on, padawan, and you’ll need to finish up whatever conversation you have soon, there’s work to do and being a padawan only excuses you from so much.”

Rex backs into the meeting room, yanks Anakin in, and then decides to throw caution to the wind and just press their lips together.

Oh.

Okay.

He’s kissing back.

Lack of caution: good.

The mark at his wrist thrums, warm and comfortable, and Rex pulls away. He stifles the noise he wants to make, and when Anakin whines, small and soft but clearly disappointed, Rex offers him a small grin he knows would get him called ‘shy’ by his asshole older brothers.

“We probably should actually get to know each other,” Rex says. “I don’t even know your last name.”

“I... yeah, I don’t know yours either, unless it’s Fett.”

“It’s not. I don’t have one.”

Anakin’s face does another one of those ‘I’m angry for you’ twists that Rex is quickly coming to recognize, and then he sighs and falls into one of the chairs. “Okay. So. I don’t know much about the soldier life. Tell me about it.”

And he does.

[dilfbane]

It Gets Better(A Silky Pearl)

Summary: It’s been a long time since things have gotten this bad. Loki, returned from his latest mission, lets you know that, with help and support, you can overcome the worst of things, and makes sure you know that he’ll be there with you to get you through it, each and every day. 

Pairing: Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: Reader in this fic struggles with eating disorders. Thoughts and feelings related to these(specifically to anorexia and bulimia), are made throughout the fic, especially those that, in my personal experience, people with these disorders experience. I cannot stress enough that this will be discussed/referenced/talked about, sometimes explicitly(Though not graphically) and sometimes implicitly, so please be aware of that and know that it’s OK to take care of yourself and skip this one if that would be triggering to you! 

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I want to preface this by saying that there are a LOT of people, both here and on AO3, who have made some amazing Loki/reader oneshots where the reader is struggling with mental health and/or physical health issues, that really provide a sense of warmth and fluff and support to people who may be going through those things themselves, and I’ve taken a lot of comfort in those fics over the course of the pandemic(I’ll be shouting out a couple of them in the tags!). I want to acknowledge that these exist, and that they’re awesome and have partly inspired my own writing, before talking about this little project I’m embarking on. 

Because, while I have gotten a lot of comfort out of many of those pieces of writing, there are definitely some things which I feel like aren’t talked about as much in pieces like these which I have gone through, and which a lot of other people have gone/are going through, and…. I figured that maybe I could take a crack at trying to provide that hit of fluff for people dealing with those things, if I can, and hopefully use my own experience with them to do it in as respecful and accurate a way as possible. 

All that being said, the first oneshot in this little project is going to be dealing with a pretty heavy subject, that being eating disorders. The reader in this fic does struggle with eating disorders - specifically anorexia and bulimia. I will not be actively describing anything too graphic about these disorders in this fic, except to highlight through implication and some sparse details that this is what’s happening here, as well as show some of the inner thought processes of the reader, but there definitely is enough in here to show that that’s what’s going on, so if anyone would be triggered by that, please take care of yourselves and give this one a pass! Also, I will further disclaim that there are many types of eating disorders, and everyone’s experience with them is different. In this oneshot, I wrote based off what I know to have been true during the time in my life when I struggled with the same conditions, and I really tried to make the fluff and support as kind and encouraging as I possibly could. If for ANY REASON there’s something that I did badly at, or something that’s disrespectful, anyone reading this may feel more than free to let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it! I don’t want this fic to be a place where anyone feels hurt or disrespected, that isn’t my intention at all, and if I make a mistake in that regard for any reason whatsoever, I would really appreciate knowing so that I can correct it!

Anyways, after that extremely lengthy A/N, just… please know, if you’re going through something like this, that you’re not alone, that help does exist and is out there, and that you are seen and heard. And take this Loki fluff, because honestly, there can never be too much of that in the world! 

You know that he worries about you. Even before his latest, three-week mission, you know that he worried about you. In the mornings, as you pour your coffee, you watch him watch you with careful nonchalance, gaze boring into the back of your head, slight furrow creasing his eyebrows, frown pulling small at his lips. He dresses early, because he wakes early; it is a battle, most mornings, for you to get out of bed. And so what, if you take your coffee with more creamer than is necessarily normal - it has to last you a long time, this coffee. You need the sugar of it, to get you to that clean pain. It is sharper, more real, than any scalpel, any knife that Loki keeps concealed by his armor; all that fine Asgardian leather, green and supple and him. It gives you back the control that you lack. Lets you be the person that you would be. 

It’s not that you’re afraid of your body, but you are ashamed by it; cannot fathom, even now with his gaze on you, that Loki could love somebody so dreadfully overweight. 

Today, though - Today, you had thought, you had hoped, that it might be different. You don’t know why you have that hope, but it brims up in you; a physical need, a visible yearning, for you to be enough for once. Someone that Loki can stand to look at. Someone that Loki can love. He is looking at you now like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you flinch from the frown that creases his piercing gaze, unable to bear how it roves up the planes of your body; silhoutted in the light coming in through the window, you can feel each ounce of fat that stretches over your sinew, cartilage. (You know that Loki hates your body - He traces it sometimes like he’s probing you, trying to find where your bones are. You wish that you could call him on it, and know that you never could). 

You stand at the counter, and turn from him; rummage in the cabinet for your coffee mug with shaking fingers; you almost feel like they’re rubber. Blue and cold, like his Jotun skin, but you know that it isn’t enough. Pins and needles prick at them - you can almost convince yourself that it’s only your guilt and shame, but you cannot hide from the pain suffusing Loki’s voice when he speaks. 

“Darling,” He says, on a shaky breath, “We need to talk about this.” 

“I know -” You tell him - you know that you can’t run from this, anymore. He knows how you look, how nothing you do is fixing it. And now, he’s going to leave you. “I know, Loki - I tried, Loki, I’m so sorry -“ 

The agony that wells up in you threatens to overwhelm your ability to speak, and you feel your knees buckle the second before you fall. Your kneecaps slam against the cupboard underneath the sink, your head hitting the edge of the counter as you slide down hard to the floor. It hurts. But every part of your body hurts, these days. It’s as constant as your worthlessness. And something else, too - 

He is there, on the floor with you, in less time than it takes place to blink, pulling you hard and desperate into his arms; you don’t understand why, and you try to wrench yourself from him, sobs bubbling up and spilling out from your tightly shut eyes. You can feel the bruises starting to form on you, a lump throbbing at your temple. 

“Love,” He is saying, “Y/N, sweetheart, come back to me. Come back to me, darling, please.” He is stroking your hair; you feel his fingers at its strands, thin and brittle. God, you think, how pathetic you are - you can’t even keep yourself pretty for him, for this god and all the sacrifices that he’s made. You cry harder, unable to stop your own wailing. When you finally do, you’re exhausted - it takes everything out of you. 

“Loki,” You say, on a wretched whine, “I’m so cold.” 

“Hush,” He says, “You’re alright. You’ll be warm soon - We’ll sort it, darling, I promise.” 

You don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t something you can sort, but somehow you know, deep in your heart, that Loki understands. Still, his voice is so sweet, and the shudders that wrack you begin to halt in the steady hold of his embrace; the tender brush of his fingers over your skin. You feel like you can look at him, now, so you do it, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth to steel yourself for the cruel things you’re certain he’ll start with. But Loki’s gaze isn’t angry at you, not full of fury or disgust. They sparkle with unshed tears and concern, emerald in the daylight. It takes you a moment too long to realize all that pain, all that worry, is for you; when you do, though, you flinch away. Feel Loki’s fingers drop from your hairline to your cheek, then your chin, tilting your head up so that you can’t run and hide. 

“I’m losing you, love,” Loki says. His voice is low, and steeped in sorrow. It is his turn to look down, with guilt and shame, and you feel a pang blossom, raw and red, in your heart. He sighs, and straightens his shoulders. He is filled with some new resolution, some new determination you can’t wince away from. 

“I need to know,” Loki tells you, “How long this has been going on. I need to - I need you to tell me why, love. I can’t bear to see you like this.” 

“I can’t,” You say, blinking back a fresh torrent of tears, “Tell you why. It’s not - I can’t - I don’t know.” 

But you know, and Loki does, too. It’s the god of lies, holding you - of course he can tell that you’re lying. It is something other, and runs deep, this bone-y reluctance. A complex game of mental gymnastics. How could you ever tell Loki about the control that it gives you, the desperation with which you used all your calorie-counting and aching restraint to regain the love that you lost? The nights bent over toilet bowls; the way that, sometimes, you empty stomach made you dig your nails hard into your palms ’til they bled, to stop yourself from crying out at the pain. And he loves you - the part of you that craves his affection, that yearns to burrow fast and fierce into Loki’s embrace and spill all your secrets to him, makes sure to remind you of that.

“Y/N,” Says Loki, soft and tender, yet infused with a note so harsh that you would wince, if you could. “You can tell me anything. You need to.” 

You notice things, now, in the face of his determination. You notice that Loki is looking at you like he’s in physical pain, and that there’s something sticky and red on the pads of the fingers that brushed up against your head. 

“I’m bleeding,” You say. It comes out soft, horrified. 

The frown that creases Loki’s face would bring you to your knees, if you weren’t there already. 

“It’s just - a thing that I do,” You tell him, too ashamed to look at his face as you reveal it. “You don’t have to worry about it.” 

“That’s not enough for me, love.” 

Loki’s lips are pursed tight, and the wound in his eyes has hardened to steel. The you part of your body - the fleeing part, the one who knows how to survive - seizes its’ chance and you duck out of his embrace, with far more strength than you had possessed in what felt like, potentially, years. Scrambles, backwards, like a cornered animal, over the tile floor, before heaving itself up to standing. It faces Loki, and its’ breath comes in stabbing-sharp. It is hard to remember that you have to call it ‘myself’. You feel older than you were, yesterday, and you cannot, quite, get air to come into your lungs. That’s not enough for me, you hear your lover say, ringing in your ears like a hyena’s howl. 

You’re not enough for me, love. Your fingers spasm, clutching the sides of the kitchen table white-knuckled. You wonder, fleetingly, what Loki would do if you died. The thought makes you cry out in pain, a whimper ripping out from a throat rubbed fingernail-raw, but Loki does not move to stand. 

“Come back to me,” He tells you, spiked with sorrow and need. And, perhaps for the first time, you admit it - to yourself, as much as to him. 

“I don’t - I don’t think I know how.” 

He smiles the smiole of someone who’s seen his own pain, faced his own lashing demons, and you pause to take him in fully, this god who says that he loves you, the man he is trying to be. You catch on hixs eyes, those bright emerald coins, his hair like the feathers of crows. His high, pale cheekbones, and his silver-tongue cut like glass. The pads of his fingertips, slender and cold, tender and fierce on your skin or the hilt of a dagger. You breathe in the smell of him, parchment and iron; peppermint tea and the smoke from a lorn, crimson fire. Wet leaves, after a rain. You feel your resolve start to waver. 

“Well,” He says, all thoughtful, all trickster, “Sitting down, I believe, would be a good place to begin.” 

The teasing lilt of his voice - an act that he is putting on, and all for you, always for you - cajoles you, coaxing you to lever your elbows and slide back down onto the floor, your weary legs feeling unimaginably grateful. Loki shoots you a new smile now, light and proud. He beckons you, with a cock of his head and a slim, fond gesture, to him - Of a sudden, the tiles beneath you seem like a desert, an ocean. You feel the weight of your emptiness. It laughs at you, its’ white teeth filed and barred. In your head, your failure is heavy; a hot and cackling creature with seven-foot claws pressing down on your chest, restricting your matchstick limbs. You are lost to the unyielding insistence of it, trapped in the maw of its cage, and Loki’s words, when they come, sound as far away as the shores of a country ancient and foreign. 

“I was hardly gone,” He is saying, but you cannot answer him. “How could it have gotten this bad?” 

It is that - that sadness, that fear in your lover - that breaks you, and you take the thing at a clumsy, terror-steeped sprint, not caring how wretched you look, so long as you can reach him - So long, you finally let yourself think, as there is something left of you for Loki to hold in his arms. Your body hurts worse than anything. You feel every scrape and bruise and chill on it; the pins and knives working at oxygen-starved nerves, and the gnawing clamp of your hunger, a brand pressing into your gut; and you know that Loki can’t save you. But maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to save yourself. And his fingers are there, going up to your hair, thumb rubbing at a hollow cheek and catching the salty dirge of an errant tear. 

“It gets better, you know,” Loki tells you. He gets you onto his lap; you feel his heartbeat under your palms where you clutch tightly at his shirt to hold yourself up. A steady, thrumming proof that he is alive. And when he says it, you get the sense that, somehow, you’ve always know it, this whispered secret he’s weaving into your soul. “If you get proper help for it. If you want it to.” 

He speaks casually, but there is a weight to his words. Miraculously - you’re not quite so sure how - you find yourself able to meet them. 

“I want it to,” You tell him. “I didn’t, before - “ And here his eyes widen, and he shakes his head like you’ve shot him - “But I do. I want to -“ 

“Alright, love,” He tells you, running a soothing hand down over your side, past the hard planes of your collarbone, “Alright. It’s okay. You’re such a strong person- It’s going to be hard, for awhile, but I know that you can get through this. I’ll be right here with you, darling. Right here, by your side.” 

“You will?” You ask him, voice cracking, hardly daring to hope that despite all this, he would stay. He chuckles, sadly, as if your thinking it hurts him, and he is deadly serious when he tells you,

“Y/N, of course I will.” 

Somehow, though he’s the god of lies, you don’t doubt his words for an instant. You nod, and the nodding takes effort. Yet you are certain he understands what you mean. 

“So,” Says Loki, “Can you - Tell me about this?” 

You have to think, for a minute. Can you tell Loki about this? You know that he’s telling the truth, that he isn’t going to leave you. Still, you’ve never been this vulnerable with him before, not even in bed, and the fear in you won’t be put to rest so easily. You shake in his hold, and realize, with a frigid shock, how you must look to him - how badly you are hurting him, and how badly you’re hurting yourself, by keeping your feelings inside yourself and leaving your body to rot. You know, now, that Loki will  help you through this - that he will be there, kind touches skirting the bad days; warm, mischevious smirks smoothing the wrinkles of your persistent self-doubts. There was a time when you needed to do this - there will, probably, still be days when you feel like you need to do this, to get a firm hold over your life, and keep the jackals at bay. There are other words to keep yourself safe, though. Loki’s breath in the dark is more home to you than anything you’ve ever had, and his open waiting, here in the daylight, makes you brave enough to speak. 

“Maybe… Over lunch?” You offer. You bite your lip and hold out the query, a silky pearl in your hand. For one moment, Loki seems to consider; after all, he is the trickster, and a man not given to acting rashly, or stripping the drama from his complicated schemes. If this is a scheme, you think that you might forgive him - Later, when his lips are on your frame, when you’re there with him, again. His lips twitch into a grin so affectionate and proud that you know- you know - that if you seek proper care and really want to get better, you’ll get through the days that feel like walking on broken glass. You’ve done so much for me, that grin tells you. Let me do this for you.

He reaches out, and takes the pearl. You hardly recognize the man who rained hell down on New York, who snorts and jabs with sarcasm at every word that comes out of Iron Man’s mouth. 

“Breakfast?” He counters, shooting a pointed glance at the microwave clock. It is a dare and a promise - a challenge, but never a trick. It tastes like honey on your tongue. 

“Fine,” You say, “But you’ll have to cook.” Some kind of joy is creeping its way into you. Your voice, you find, barely trembles. 

“Midgardians,” Lok says, with an eye-roll - a friendly, loving glint in his eyes that refuses to fade. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who burns water.” The joke prods your tender, new understanding, reassures you that he is still Loki; that he isn’t going to treat you differently, like a child, just because you’re suffering. The smile comes full onto you, and you wriggle, stretching your arms over your head and yawning, exaggerated for effect to add to the banter. 

“I never said that I couldn’t cook,” You tell Loki, “Just wanted you to do it.” 

“Mm,” He says, “And what will you be doing, then, while I cook?” 

You chew at your lip, and choose to answer before your nerves make you panic. 

“Finding the right words,” You admit, laying the truth bare to him. 

His hands are wending through your hair now, and his lips are unberarably gentle on yours. He tastes like embers and ink. That sweet, slightly metalic tang that you’ve come to associate with his magic; cinnamon, tinged with steel. He kisses you for a second or two, before pulling away,  but you could live in those seconds - Unfold it, like a blanket, and let the care of it warm your thin, freezing bones, if Loki weren’t here to show you that, with the right help, you can learn how to do it yourself. 

“Finding the right words,” Loki muses, vaulting himself up to stand in a movement that’s unfairly graceful. “I’d much prefer yours, to be honest.” 

He holds a hand out, and you take it, letting him pull you up. The floor, underneath you, feels solid. The sun is coming through the clouds, and out there in the wide world you can hear bird-song, the low, sugared sway of the breeze. There is something else there, too: 

You let it wrap its tendrils around you, and you decide that it’s hope. 

[mimisempai]

Missing you comes in waves and tonight I'm drowning

Summary:

After seeing Loki disappear before his eyes and confined to the TVA because of the failed mission, Mobius decides to still believe in Loki and search for him. He witnesses the discussion between Sylvie and Loki on the train

Notes:

My theories on the method used by Mobius to locate Loki is probably very far-fetched and lacks technical truth, but that's not the most important point here, so I hope you'll forgive me for my short cuts. (I miss them together!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162878

2008 words - Rating G

"Loki! Wait!"

Loki looked at him for a moment before stepping through the portal.

By the time they got there, it was too late Loki and the portal was gone.

"I knew he would betray us as soon as he could!" said one of the hunters right next to Mobius.

"Shut up!" shouted Mobius at him before returning to the TVA.

As he walked toward Ravonna's office, the same thoughts swirled over and over in his head.

Had Loki betrayed him! What were his plans? But worst of all, was he in danger?

He tried to think rationally.

Loki always said he was one step ahead, but Mobius knew that wasn't true. Loki was improvising. Loki was adapting. So reason told Mobius that this is what he had done.

That's when Mobius decided to do something he'd never done in his life at the TVA, he was going to bet on chaos. On the fact that Loki had chosen to follow the variant not only for his own sake but also because it was his mission.

Because Mobius could not imagine that what they had shared was nothing in the eyes of the god.

"Mobius! In my office!"

Ravonna... he was already imagining her reprimands, "I warned you" "he can't be trusted"...

As soon as he entered her office, she showed him a screen and just said, "Look!"

A scene showing the variant fighting in a hallway with the guards and Loki in the locker room retrieving his daggers then arriving at the place where the guards were eliminated.

Next scene Loki and the variant fighting, Loki trying to convince her to team up, at this point, despite the faith he has in him, Mobius could not determine if this is a way to stop her or get what he wants.

Then Rovenna arrives and the variant uses Loki as a hostage.

Mobius could not prevent a gasp.

Still on the screen, seeing that Rovenna is not persuaded, Loki grabs an object that opens a portal above them and he and the Variant disappear.

Mobius tried not to show his relief, but he saw that Rovenna was not fooled.

"So you still trust him?"

Mobius looked at her defiantly, "As long as I don't have concrete, real proof that he betrayed us, yes I’ll trust him!"

"Always the idealistic dreamer huh?"

Mobius didn't answer, Rovenna continued, "You're grounded here until I tell you otherwise. You can get out."

Once out, Mobius sat in a chair, held his head in his hands, and began to think. He was grounded, but there was nothing to stop him from trying to figure out where Loki was.

He just had to figure out how to locate him.

The difference was that now, thanks to Loki, he knew to look in the apocalypses, what he had to find now was the equivalent of that candy, something out of the ordinary, something anachronistic.

He stood up suddenly, he had found it!

He went to the office, where the screen that displayed all the nexuses was located.

"Casey! Come here!"

The younger man got up and joined him. Mobius spoke more softly, "Will you help me with a secret project?"

Casey, who had great respect for the man, nodded.

"Follow me."

They headed into the archive room. Mobius chose a table a little out of the way.

"You sit here. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, he returned with a stack of files that he separated into two piles.

"In all these apocalypses, we need to find one where it mentions two Lokis variants and unusual magical acts."

"Got it!"

Mobius didn't know if his smoky theory would work out, but he didn't have much choice.

He couldn't help but think back to a similar scene a few days earlier, when Loki had fallen asleep. He had let his guard down in the presence of Mobius, so that meant something, didn't it?

He started to flip through the files.

"M-Mobius! I think I've got it!"

Casey was showing him a file, Lamentis-1 - 2077, a woman reports that two demons tried to attack her. One even allegedly posed as her deceased husband in order to get information.

Mobius could feel it in his bones. It was Loki and the Variant.

He was going to have to gamble on someone again.

"Casey. I need you to keep this a secret for a while longer. If Ravonna gets wind of this, I'm afraid she'll launch an assault and won't hesitate to eliminate Loki."

Casey nodded without taking time to think, "As long as you need Mobius."

Mobius was surprised that he didn't have to persuade Casey more than that.

After all, he seemed to be the good, loyal employee who never disobeyed.

Casey, seeing his reaction, added with a knowing smile, "You know, I like Loki too. He promised me he'd show me what a fish is and you know? The drink he took from me the other day, he bought me another one and apologized. A villain wouldn't take the time to do something like that right?"

Mobius's throat tightened. Casey was the first person other than himself to acknowledge that there was good in Loki.

"Thanks."

Casey nodded and returned to his desk.

Mobius headed straight for the video archive room. The advantage of being an agent of his rank was that he had unrestricted access to this section of the archives.

He searched through the shelves until he found the videos of Lamentis 1 in 2077.

He sat down in front of one of the small projectors provided for this purpose. He was going to start from the described scene that Casey had shown him.

After entering a few parameters, the screen lit up with Loki being blasted by an old woman.

The noise of the meteors that rained down around

Loki and the one who accompanied him, prevented Mobius from hearing what was being said.He pressed the fast-forward button until Loki and the girl, after some trouble to enter the train, found themselves in a box in the dining car.

He turned up the volume to hear their conversation.

He was amazed at how easily they seemed to converse, despite the jabs on both sides, and couldn't help a twinge of annoyance that he refused to recognize as jealousy.

The variant said to Loki, mockingly, "FYI, that wasn't even a plan."

"Oh, really?"

God how Mobius missed that cheeky attitude. Even when unmasked, Loki still had that irritating confidence.

The variant replied, "Plans have multiple steps. Dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing."

She couldn't hold back a yawn.

Loki responded, "Oh, are you a bit tired? Feel free to, you know, get some rest."

One thing Mobius had realized and Casey had confirmed to him just before was that Loki cared more about others than he let on if you paid attention.

The variant grunted and replied, "I can't sleep in a place like this."

"You can't sleep on a train?"

The variant retorted, irritated, "No. I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

Loki replied, still cheeky, "Oh, right. That's me?"

Fearing he might misinterpret what had been said, Mobius pressed rewind and let the scene play out before him.

The image of Loki nodding in agreement about not being able to sleep near people he couldn't trust was superimposed on the image of Loki sound asleep in his company.

He could not suppress the pang of his heart.

Loki trusted him, Loki considered him trustworthy.

While he was thinking, the video had continued and Loki was now talking about his mother.

Mobius had witnessed Loki's relationship with his mother and his devastation at the news of her death.

Loki's voice had become more hushed, with that hint of fragility he had whenever he spoke of her.

"She was, um... A Queen of Asgard. She was good. Purely decent."

Then the variant and Loki respectively provoked each other about the fact that they were adopted and Loki continued, "You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me. Like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible. But she told me that I'd be able to do it too because... Because I could do anything. You wanna see?"

Loki sets off tiny fireworks over his hand.

Mobius could not deny his feelings at that moment.

The sight of magic coming from Loki's hands, pure magic, was enchanting.

Loki continued, "She was the kinda person you'd want to believe in you."

Mobius could not help but whisper, "Loki, I believe in you."

For a few moments he didn't catch the conversation until it was audible again. Apparently they were talking about their love interests.

The variant asked Loki, "How about you? You're a prince. Must've been would-be-princesses or perhaps, another prince." She finished with a wink.

Loki, replied with a serious look, "A bit of both. I suspect the same as you. But, nothing ever..."

The variant finished his sentence, "real."

"Let me find you and I'll prove to you how real it is." Mobius didn't realize he was speaking aloud. He pushed fast-forward again.

The Variant had fallen asleep and Loki looked a little giddy.

Loki waved his hand and was back in his TVA agent costume.

He could wear the illusion of any outfit, and he chose this one. Why stay in these clothes?

Mobius really didn't want to be under any illusions, because how could he imagine that someone like Loki, a prince, a god, would want to claim a belonging to something like the TVA... to someone like Mobius?

Loki had started to dance and sing.

Mobius could not help but laugh. Then his laughter died down as Loki's song became more melancholic,

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

og synger "når kommer du hjem?"

Men traner danser og fossene stanser

når hun synger, hun synger "kom hjem"

Then seeming to regain his spirits, Loki began to dance and sing happily again as if trying to prevent nostalgia from invading him.

When the music stopped, he joined the Variant and resumed his seat in front of him. Mobius managed to understand what they were saying to each other.

"What did you just sing to look so disturbed?"

Loki looked a little moved and answered him with the voice Mobius knew well, the one he used when he was serious, when he was sincere.

"It's Asgardian, it says:

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair and sings,

"When will you come home?"

Loki stopped, apparently moved, and the Variant simply said, "So there's a would-be-princess somewhere..."

Loki chuckled looking so sad before answering her, "I like metaphors you know, it's not a princess it's a prince, and I don't know if he's waiting for me or hoping to see me again, it's not even really my home, but..."

"But you'd like to believe that right?"

Loki nodded.

Mobius, didn't dare to believe that it was him that Loki was talking about, even though he couldn't stop the hope from rising up inside him.

The video continued, much more animated, after a wild fight, both jumped off the moving train and found themselves walking through a kind of desert towards the energy source they apparently needed to reactivate the tempad.

Mobius saw Loki suddenly stop, looking shocked. But Mobius was unable to hear what they were saying, the sound of the meteors again covering their voices.

Suddenly, Loki shouted louder, "But they don't know that!"

And they began to run.

Mobius could see that Loki was repeating something as he ran, an expression that Mobius had never seen on his face. Like he was worried. But he couldn't hear him. He zoomed in closer to try to read Loki's lips and finally succeeded.

Mobius.

_________

The whole serie here : The story of Loki and Mobius

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter10)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Happy Valentines Day y’all! Hope your day was filled with love (even if you’re not in a relationship) Thank you guys for reading! I’m sorry I’m torturing you with the tension between Marleigh and JJ but I gotta keep you on your toes somehow (; 

Word Count: 5.6 k 

Chapter 9

When I drop my things off at Kie's house and invite myself to stay at her house for a few days, she bombards me with questions. Most of them revolve around John B. Where is he? How are we going to find him? How do we know he's okay? Of course I don't have the answers to any of these questions, which only makes the curly brunette more worried.

"Look, he's going to be fine," I tell her as we walk down her long driveway where Pope and JJ are waiting for us. "John B wouldn't let them take him without a fight. Plus, I oddly take the fact that I haven't even gotten one phone call from him as a good sign. If he was at the station, they would probably use him to bait me."

When we get closer to the boys, I bite my lip to hide my smile. The blonde smirks back at me and even throws in a wink. Every nerve in my body ignites with a fire-like spark when I look at his sparkling blue eyes. I can't believe I almost kissed my best friend. I don't know what it would do to our friendship if something were to happen.

The thought terrifies me enough to make my smile falter. I can't lose JJ. I can't fuck up the best thing I have in my life which is my friendship with Kie, Pope, and especially JJ.

JJ tilts his head to look at me questioningly so I plaster a fake grin on my face.

The movie is being projected in an open field on Figure Eight. They have a huge blow up screen and a projector in front of it. There's already about fifty people here and more on the way.

We set up our lawn chairs in the middle of the field. My chest tightens with anxiety when we're surrounded by Kooks and Tourons. Rafe and his friends could be hiding anywhere in the faces around us. I can tell Pope is thinking the same thing. His head is snapping back and froth, left and right, keeping an eye out for the people who want to kill us. JJ tries to calm him down, but nothing settles him.

"Back to OBX life," Kie says as she sits down next to me. She opens the cooler at her feet and hands me a bag of grapes she packed. "You know? Aren't you glad I made you come?"

"Ecstatic," I mutter. My eyes scan the crowd for dudes with slicked back hair and neon shorts.

"My couch was pretty comfy, I'll be honest," JJ says next to me. He reaches into the bag of grapes and steals a few. He throws them in the air, catching them in his mouth.

Kie stands up to grab a couple of sodas from the snack bar. The second she's out of ear shot, Pope whips his head in our direction. His eyes are big with fear as they study every face that walks through the field.

"We're out of the green zone, man," Pope whispers on the other side of JJ.

"Dude, tranqüilo, okay?" JJ says.

"We're in the middle of kooklandia," Pope says. "This is the last place I wanted to be."

"Shut up, Pope," I hiss when I see Kie making her way back to us with three Pepsis in her hand. She has a scowl on her face. That can't be good.

"Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy that we know what he did.'" Kie looks between JJ and Pope with raised brows. She doesn't look happy. She looks suspicious and somewhat annoyed that she doesn't know what Rafe is talking about. "What is that?"

Pope snaps his head in the direction of the snack bar. JJ tries to act normal and purses his lips. He avoids Kie's glare by looking at me, immediately throwing me under the bus for knowing their secret too.

Kie turns to look at me with her mouth slightly open. "You know?" I open my mouth to respond but she cuts me off. "Why do you know and I don't? What did you guys do?"

"Where is he?" JJ asks, glancing over his shoulder.

"Right there." Kie points at the snack bar where Rafe, Topper, and Kelce are throwing popcorn at each other. They look up and smirk in our direction.

"Great, the whole death squad," Pope says.

JJ grabs the top of Pope's head and physically turns it back to the screen. "Don't stare, bro."

I feel my hands clench around the arms of my beach chair. I know for a fact that tonight's not going to be as easy as we thought it would be. And I hate that its because of Rafe of all people.

"Just warning you, bro. If they corner me, I'm coming out swinging, okay? Slice and dicin'. I'm on edge right now," JJ says, shaking out his shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah," Pope nods in agreement, which makes both Kie and I look at him incredulously. Pope's a lover, not a fighter.

"If that doesn't work, I got this right here," JJ smacks his backpack that I now know his gun is in.

"Yeah, yeah," Pope continues to nod. He's so deep in fear that he doesn't even realize that JJ just offered to whip a gun out in a sea of people and children.

"So, we just gotta stay in the group," JJ says, officially ignoring Kie's glares. "They can't get us in the group."

"Like a school of fish," Pope agrees. "Stay in the school. Can't leave the school."

I roll my eyes. "Oh my god. We're screwed."

"I'm sorry, JJ," Kie leans over me to get a better look at the blonde boy sitting next to me. "Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here." JJ just stares at her blankly. "JJ, there are kids!"

"No!" JJ snaps. "Kie, I didn't bring the gun. Okay? Everything's fine."

"Wow thank you. That's really convincing. I love that JJ," Kie says sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

"Welcome to the summer movie series!" A man stands at the front of the field by the screen with a microphone in his hand, addressing the crowd.

"Founding principle you guys," Kie says with a quieter voice. "No secrets amongst Pogues." She looks at me and holds her stare. I swallow the bad memories that threaten to rise to the surface. I know she's implying the secret that she's been keeping for me. The one she wants me to tell the others. And now I'm hiding another secret. From her of all people.  "What is Rafe talking about?"

I open my mouth to try to calm her down, but JJ cuts me off, which only makes matters worse.

"Kie, it might go down tonight."

I groan and roll my eyes.

"What does that mean?" Kie asks. She even slaps me on my shoulder with the back of her hand. If looks could kill...

"Might go down tonight..." Pope says slowly.

"What did y'all do?"

JJ leans closer to Pope and says in his ear, "Deny, deny, deny."

I look at Kie with soft eyes. "Do you trust me?" Kie reluctantly nods and glances between me and the boys. I grab her wrist to make her look at me, my eyes pleading. "Then trust me when I tell you that the less you know, the better."

Kie finally drops the subject and sits back into her seat. She's not happy about not knowing and if I were her, I'd feel the same way. But its best if she doesn't know.

We watch the movie with tension in our shoulders and frowns on our lips. Our relaxing night took a turn for the worst. I can't even focus on the movie or JJ being so close to my side, our shoulders practically against each other. All I can feel is a pair of eyes on the back of my head, burning holes through my skull.

Halfway through the movie I hear Pope lean in closer to JJ. His voice is a whisper but I detach my focus from the movie to listen. "JJ?"

"What?" JJ whispers back.

"Gotta take a piss," Pope says.

I look over my shoulder towards the bathrooms. Like I suspect, the Kooks are gathered around it.

"Hold it," JJ hisses.

"I can't hold it. I drank too much soda."

"It's too exposed. They'll totally see us."

"I gotta go," Pope says more definitively.

JJ looks in the direction I was just looking at. "They're blocking the bathrooms." JJ sighs and looks ahead. "Come here. I know where."

JJ pulls Pope up by his arm and walks in the opposite direction of the bathroom, towards the movie screen.

"Hey, where y'all going?" Kie calls out in a hushed whisper.

"We gotta wring it out," JJ says.

"You gonna hold it for each other?" Kie responds which makes me laugh.

They don't reply. They walk around the screen to the other side. The second they're out of view, Kie turns to look at me with a face that says she wants answers and she wants them now.

"Please don't ask me to tell you."

"You're making me worried," Kie says honestly.

I sigh with guilt, completely understanding the feeling. If the three of them were hiding something from me, my mind would be racking through millions of different thoughts about what it was.

"Does it have to do with the day you got that?" Kie points to the bruise on my face.

I bite my lip and turn towards the movie, trying my best not to let her convince me to tell her. If the cops were to get involved, I want Kie to be as innocent as possible. They would probably never go after her because she lives on Figure Eight, but knowing Kie, she would do whatever she needed to help her best friends.

I look over my shoulder again, making sure the Kooks were still guarding the bathroom, but my heart stops when I don't see them.

"Shit," I stand up and step through the crowd of people, running to where Pope and JJ disappeared.

As I get closer to the screen I can hear the heavy grunts of guys fighting from behind it. Pope and JJ are fighting against Kelce, Rafe, and Topper. I shuffle on my two feet, not sure where to go, who to help first.

Kelce has his arms wrapped around JJ's, holding him against his chest and leaving him open for Rafe's punches . A couple feet away from them, Topper and Pope wrestle on the grass, throwing hands wherever will make contact with skin.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kie running towards Pope and Topper with JJ's backpack. I run towards Rafe and shove him back by his shoulders. I risk a glance at JJ. His face is red from the Kooks' punches and there's a split in his bottom lip. The sight of him being hurt is enough to make my vision blur to red.

I shove Rafe backwards by his shoulders again. The older boy just laughs at me humorlessly, only fueling the fire to my rage. I narrow my eyes into a glare and take another menacing step towards him.

"Mar, stop!" I hear JJ call behind me but I ignore him.

"Let go of him, Topper!" I hear Kie say a little further away. She's beating him with JJ's backpack and jumping on Topper's back to get him away from Pope.

"I told you I was going to find out who did it," Rafe says.

"And I told you we didn't do shit," I say, keeping my face steady with a scowl. I turn to send daggers in Kelce's direction. "Let him go."

Rafe whistles and keeps the cocky smirk spread across his face. "Would you look at this. I think someone has a little soft spot for the blonde Pogue over here. Don't you think Kelce? I mean princess over here didn't even acknowledge her other friend."

"You know what? I don't think you're worried about who sunk Topper's boat. That would have to mean you actually care about someone other than yourself. I think your problem is with me."

The older boy scoffs, "With you?"

"Yeah," I take another step closer to him. "It must be really frustrating when the guy who gets everything he wants without lifting a perfectly manicured finger can't even get laid by ...oh what was it that you called me? The Cut's biggest whore? Must be pretty pathetic that some whore won't even sleep with you."

The back of Rafe's hand slaps me across the face, snapping my head with the direction of his hand. I hear JJ cry after me but its muffled by my back slamming into the grass with a weight on top of me.

Rafe's hands encircle around my neck and they squeeze tighter than they did the other day when I was in this same position. But this time, I wanted this because it got his attention away from JJ.

"You know, they say Pogues are the one's with the short temper," I chuckle maliciously. My voice is raspy and my throat is on fire, but I'm loving how easy it is to get under Rafe's skin. "But a little taste of reality is all it takes to ignite your fuse."

"Marleigh!" JJ shouts. I hear the sound of fists connecting with skin, followed by grunts and groans. "Rafe I swear to god -"

"Go ahead," I wrap my fingers around Rafe's wrists to try and pull him off of me but he's too strong. "But killing me will only add to your dad's growing list of reasons why you're his biggest disappointment."

Rafe grips my neck tighter, completely cutting off my air supply. The pounding in my ear muffles the cries and shouts from all my friends. From the Kooks. I can barely breathe and my vision sparkles with white specks. I try fighting him, but his rage is now stronger than mine.

Heat flows through my body and sweat bubbles at my hairline. I see orange out of the corner of my eye, but I think that's just my vision blurring together. A second later, I feel the weight of Rafe's body lifted off of me. There's a thump from the ground next to me and more heavy grunts. When I look up, I watch the screen light up in flames. Literally.

I gasp for breath and turn on my side. I can feel the contents of my stomach rising up my throat, leaving my throat in even more burning anguish. I pant for air, inhaling sharply and ignoring the sharp pain from my lungs.

I feel warm hands wrap around my biceps, pulling me up to my feet. My legs and arms feel like rubber, but I muster up enough strength to walk out of here. I'd be damned if I let Rafe see me as some weak link again.

Topper, Kelce, and Pope try pulling JJ off of Rafe who jams his fist against Rafe's face relentlessly. JJ's face is red with anger, his scowl hardening with every hit.

"JJ!" I call out to him. I know this is only going to get him in more trouble. They're Kooks. They never get in trouble. Leaving any kind of mark on Rafe's skin will call for consequences. That's just how it goes around here and we can't be stupid to it. "JJ, stop!" I try breaking out of Kie's grip. "JJ! You're going to kill him!"

JJ's head snaps in my direction. His eyes scan wildly down my body, looking for any source of life threatening injuries. I try to grin assuringly at him, but it's hard to turn my lips upwards.

When JJ is distracted, Pope manages to pull him away. The Kooks grab Rafe by his shoulders and yank him in the opposite direction. If we don't want to be caught, we all have to leave right now. The fire department and probably the police will be here any second to put out the fire.

When we're finally separated, I pull myself away from Kie and run directly into JJ's arms. He wraps himself around my waist and lifts me off the ground to pull me even closer to his body. I snuggle my face into the crook of his neck and hold him tight.

He's okay. He's okay. He's okay. It's all I can manage to say in my head.

~ ~ ~

No one says a word the entire ride home from the movies. But even without it being discussed, we knew none of us wanted to spend the night alone. I can't go back to my house and Kie's parents wouldn't want all of us at her's, so she drives us to Pope's.

Pope didn't get too hurt in the scuffle. In fact he's the one that threw the first punch...well the first head. He head butted Topper before the Kook had a chance to swing. Kie's only injury was a small burn on her finger from when she flicked the lighter to burn down the screen. JJ and I however are bruised and sore.

Kie helps Pope set up his living room for all of us to sleep. Before I can offer to help, JJ tugs on my hand and brings me down the hall towards the bathroom. He locks the door behind me.

I tilt my head and my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. "Are you okay?"

JJ steps closer to me, basically pinning my body against the door. My breath hitches in my throat as his hands come up to cup my jaw. He's so close I can feel his breath on my face. He pulls my head up and tilts it to the side. He looks down at my neck, looking for bruises and scratches that Rafe might have left me with. My neck is sore and it hurts to swallow, but that's it. Even his backhand didn't leave a mark on my cheek.

"Hey," I say softly. I pull his hands away from my face and intertwine our fingers together. "I'm okay."

"He could have killed you," JJ says through clenched teeth.

"But he didn't."

"But -"

"No buts," I tell him. Unwrapping one hand from his, I pull him further into the bathroom and tap on the sink counter top, motioning for him to hop up and sit so I can take a look at his face which looks worse the mine. "Come on."

JJ reluctantly hops on the counter. I go to the closet and pull out a small face towel and run it under cold water. Standing between his legs, I lightly dab the towel on his bottom lip that's split down the middle. I bite my lip nervously under the scrutiny of his stare. Neither of us say anything, relaxed in the comfort of the other one's presence. I feel safe when I'm with him. There's no Kooks versus Pogues. There's no abusive fathers or DCS. Its just me and him.

I drop the towel next to JJ and slowly touch the hem of his shirt. I look up at him, waiting for him to give me the go-ahead or to stop me. I need to see the damage that can be hidden with clothes.

JJ nods slowly and lets me pull his shirt up. His toned abs are the first thing I notice. I've seen him without a shirt hundreds of times, but something about this moment makes me stare. Maybe it's how close I'm standing next to him, or how I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin onto mine.

His body isn't marked with any discoloration and his ribs are still intact. When I pull his shirt back down and nod to say he's okay, I'm looking deep into his eyes - the eyes that never left mine.

"Are you okay?" He asks. His voice is soft and raspy, sexy even.

I nod my head, grinning, "Yes. I promise. Are you?"

"I swear to god, I'm going to kill him."

"J-"

"He hurt you, Mar!" JJ finally snaps. "He had his hands wrapped around your throat!"

"Shh," I shush him by pressing my index finger against his lips, afraid that he's going to wake up Pope's parents. "It's okay."

"It's not and you know it!" JJ sighs and lets his shoulders relax when I look at him pleadingly. He takes my hand and wraps it around his own. He brings it to his lips, gently kissing the tender skin around my knuckles. Blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks. I lean in closer to him, pressing my hips against the counter and glancing between my hand, his lips, and his eyes.

Every fiber in my being tells me to lean in further and finally press my lips against his. At this moment I don't care about the rules or what it might do to our friendship or what John B might say about it. I just want to feel him, every part of him, against me. I want to forget the rest of the world exists and just be with JJ.

But I don't. Because Kie quietly knocking on the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Hey, are you guys okay?" She asks.

The corner of JJ's lips tug upwards into a slanted grin, causing mine to do the same. I take a step backwards and help him down from the counter.

Kie looks between us confused. I grin at her and nod my head to show her that we're both okay. JJ grins to himself and follows me out to the living room where Pope is already passed out on the couch.

I bend down to lay on the makeshift bed on the floor made out of blankets and pillows. I was expecting Kie to lay down next to me, but JJ takes the spot to my left.

Kie trudges to the other couch, too tired to say anything about the fight or JJ and I. I know she'll wanna talk about it later with me. She always does when it involves Rafe.

I keep my eyes trained to the ceiling. My body is exhausted but I'm not tired. I finally feel like I defended myself against Rafe today, a personal accomplishment and a milestone. I don't think my feud with Rafe will ever go away. I think we'll always hate each other until one of us leaves the island for good. But at least he knows I won't put up with his crap anymore. With or without his dad's money.

I don't know how long I've been staring at a blank canvas of nothing. Not even Pope's snores can lullaby me to sleep. I turn my body towards JJ. I wonder if kissing him in the bathroom would have been a mistake or not. Maybe it would disrupt the peace in our friend group, but I can't deny my feelings for him anymore. I know what I want and that's JJ. I would do anything for the blonde lying next to me.

I watch his chest rise up and down slowly. His lips are slightly parted as he sleeps. My fingers delicately play with the shark tooth necklace around his neck. I've always loved this necklace on him, even thought about getting one myself. But I knew Kie would tease me endlessly if I did.

"You know, some people think it's rude to stare," JJ's raspy voice pulls me out of my head. His eyes are still closed and his lips are now turned up into a smirk from catching me in the act.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," I whisper.

"How come you're not sleeping?"

"My head won't let me," I reply. "Just thinking. Hey, where did you get this?"

JJ slowly opens his eyes and looks down at my thumb that glides over the smooth surface of the shark tooth. "Pretty sure this is from the country club's gift shop."

I shake my head with a grin, expecting nothing less from my klepto friend. "Of course it is."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"When did Rafe call you a whore?"

I drop my hand from his necklace and lay it flat on his chest. JJ takes his arm and rests it behind his head, sitting up to look at me. I shrug like it's no big deal.

"It was a long time ago."

"Why would he call you that?"

"The Kook doesn't handle rejection very well. It's fine, JJ."

JJ sighs. "You would tell me if someone really hurt you, right?"

This time my eyes flicker back up to meet his. His gaze feels delicate, like if he looked at me any other way, I'd break. I think he knows something but he's not telling me. Maybe that's for the better. After tonight, I never want to tell him what Rafe almost did to me. I don't trust JJ to not run off to actually try to murder the Kook.

"I'm fine."

"You're not answering the question. Please, Mar. I know Pope's hiding something too. Something about you. About the other day."

I swallow thickly and nod my head. "Of course I'd tell you."

Guilt trickles through me at the lie. JJ trusted me enough to tell me about his dad, and I had the same reaction JJ would probably have if I told him about Rafe. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

JJ nods. I can't tell if he believes me or not but he drops the subject and opens his arms for me to cuddle into him. "Come here."

I snuggle into his side and wrap my arm around his waist. This feels good, this feels normal. For a second, I forget that Kie and Pope are even in the same room as us. JJ's warm. He smells like grass, cologne, and a hint of weed. I match my breathing to his and let my eyes close, finally falling into a deep dreamless slumber.

~ ~ ~

When the four of us wake up, we offer to help Heyward out at his shop as a thank you for letting us stay over. I'm waiting for Kie to say something to me about being wrapped around JJ when we all woke up, but she doesn't say anything. Instead she passes me looks of concern. I can tell she's itching to talk about last night.

Pope's in his head about last night too and he's not giving himself enough credit for fighting Topper back.

"Don't let it get in your head," JJ says. "Three of them and two of us. That's typical Kook shit right there."

"Hell yeah," Kie says, agreeing.

"What was your thought process, using your head?"

Pope shrugs. "I don't know, man. I just kind of acted off instinct. I was a cornered animal."

Heyward walks into the shop and approaches us. I can already tell by his face that he's not about to tell us we can take a souvenir to go. His eyes are trained on his son and he looks worried. "Hey, Pope, someone here to see you."

The three of us look at Pope for some kind of tell as to who might be here for him, but he looks just as confused as the rest of us.

We follow him outside where Officer Shoupe is waiting for him. My heart drops deep into the pit of my stomach. I glance between the officer and Pope, knowing exactly who was to blame for this.

"Morning, officer," Pope says nervously. He looks like he's about to puke.

Shoupe doesn't greet him. Instead he slowly approaches my friend with a paper in his hand. "I have an arrest warrant for felony of destruction of property."

Fucking Topper.

"What?" Heyward says loudly. He looks between Shoupe and Pope, then to us as if we could explain the misunderstanding.

Shoupe moves closer to Pope. "Hands where I can see them." Kie immediately steps in to block the officer's path, saying something about how he can't do this. "Young lady, out of my way. Look at the warrant."

"You're arresting him?" I say, moving next to Pope. I narrow my eyes at the stuck up officer. I know for a fact that the police don't have any evidence that can prove Pope did it. The only witnesses were me and JJ.

"You're just arresting my boy?" Heyward says defensively.

Shoupe ignores both of us and grabs Pope by the arm and forcefully takes him to the car.

"Be careful!" Kie yells at him.

I can't wrap my brain around what is happening. Pope is the last person who should ever go to jail. What happened to Topper's boat is fair game. Okay, yes, maybe illegal, but so is assault which the Kooks did first!

"Shoupe, are you listening?" Heyward yells.

Shoupe ignores us again and starts reading Pope his rights. Our friend looks back at us, specifically at JJ and I, the ones who knew the truth. JJ grips the routes of his hair stressfully as I try to come up with any kind of idea to get him out of it.

"How much did they pay you, man?" JJ says, taking a step closer to the car.

"Stop!" I yell. This time Shoupe turns to look at me. So does everyone else. I do the only thing I can think of. "It wasn't him. It was -"

"It was me!" JJ says quickly.

My head snaps in his direction with an open mouth and wide eyes. He refuses to look at me, keeping his eyes on Shoupe and Pope.

"JJ -"

JJ cuts me off, "He tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he'd just been beaten up." The blonde takes another step closer to Shoupe. "I was so sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit." He looks at Pope with a look that tells him to go along with it. A look that tells him why he's doing this. "I can't let you take the blame for something I did. You've got too much to lose."

"JJ, what are you doing?" Pope stares at him with big eyes.

My eyes narrow into a glare as I stare at the back of JJ's head. Fear rises up my chest and tightens around my heart. Why is he doing this? I was going to do it! They're already looking for me anyway to take me to DCS. JJ's bargaining a lot for his friend. The others think he's only going to be arrested, but I know his punishment isn't going to stop there. His dad is going to be pissed. And I know what happens when his dad is pissed.

"I'm telling the truth," JJ says. "For once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth." He looks over his shoulder, glancing at me before looking at Heyward. "Stole his old man's boat too."

"What the hell?" Heyward says.

"JJ, come on," Pope pleads.

"Just shut up, Pope!" JJ snaps. "Just shut up." He looks back at Shoupe. "He's a good kid. You know where I'm from."

"Yeah," Shoupe says, agreeing that he wouldn't put this past JJ.

"This was all me."

Shoupe sighs and looks at Pope one more time. "That's the whole truth?"

"Whole truth, swear to god!" JJ says loudly.

"I know what you think, damn it, I'm asking Pope."

I look at Pope with clenched teeth, fighting my tears off with heavy breaths. I don't want Pope to agree, but I can't let him be taken away either. I can only watch as JJ does something so incredibly stupid, I don't know if he'll come back from it.

"Yeah," Pope says hesitantly. "That about covers it."

Shoupe nods and pulls out his handcuffs. Knowing the drill a little too well, JJ turns and lets Shoupe snap the handcuffs around his wrist.

"JJ!" I call out to him. I'm about to run over to him but Kie steps in my way, holding me back from making a mistake. "No, stop!"

JJ looks at me one last time before Shoupe shuts the back door with him inside. He nods once, trying to tell me he's going to be okay. But I know better. No one understands the risk he just took by taking the fall for Pope. For me.

"Ms. Routledge," Shoupe says before getting in the driver's seat. "Have you spoken to your brother?"

I pull away from Kie and glare at the old man, feeling nothing but hatred for him. "No. I haven't seen him."

"I suggest you go home and pack a bag. DCS is looking for the both of you. I'd take you in myself, but I can't without a social worker present."

I don't say anything. I just hold his stare.

When Shoupe drives away, I turn back to my best friend and pull at my hair. I start to hyperventilate, thinking about how JJ's dad is going to react when he hears JJ's been arrested. It doesn't take a lot to rile Luke Maybank up into a rage. I don't even want to think about what he's going to think about this.

Kie holds me to her, the both of us crying into each other's shoulders while Pope tries to come up with an explanation for his father. I let my best friend hold me. I don't care if bystanders are watching us. I don't care how pathetic I look. I can only think of JJ. I can only think about how I'm going to get JJ back.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax​ @acvross-the-universe​ @realistic-breadstick​ @jjmaybankzz​ @jeeperky​ @urbinoutfiters​ @moniamaybank​ @brebear121​ @x-lulu​ @freddymaybank​ @jjpouggues​ @kkmikayla​ @folkloverr​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @lemur46​

[9layerdevilfoodcake]

Some Of A Kind

Chapter 1: Virgin in the Chapel

(Michael Langdon x reader)

Summary: When you accompany your friend to a black mass at the Church of Satan. You pick the wrong time and place to let him in on the fact that you’re a virgin, garnering the attention of the ‘chosen one’ himself.

Warnings: murder, mentions of drug use, poorly represented Satanism

Word count: 3,666 (that’s right)

//

It was a typical Wednesday night when you got a text from your friend Tyler.

‘So what do you say? Is tonight the night?’

He had been bugging you for weeks to come see a sacrifice at the satanic church. And since the first time he asked, the conversation always went the same way.

/

“I’m telling you, just one slice and then you can have whatever you want”

“You mean I can have powers beyond compare?”

“Yes” he answered back, in a hopeful tone. Clearly he hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm in your voice.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the excitement in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you do whatever you want over there with your edgelords but I’m perfectly happy in my boring powerless existence”

“First of all we aren’t edgelords, we're satanists. We just see the world for what it is. A dreadful place full of selfish people.”

“Well I can’t say I argue with that”

“Exactly, so give in to being selfish, and start doing what you want. You work so hard, and for what a one bedroom apartment you can barely afford and bags under your eyes that are only getting bigger by the day?”

“Hey” you interrupt, slightly offended. Which only earns a laugh on his end.

“I’m just saying, you put in so much effort for no pay off, when you could do this one thing and have everything you deserve”

“What a cable package and a ‘skip the line’ pass at Disneyland?”

“I also get unlimited snacks!”

“Oh sorry how could I forget, well if one soul is all it takes to get a free waffle cone then what are we still doing here?!” You ask back, your tone full of mockery.

“Have you ever wondered why I can snort as much coke as I want and have never OD’d? Or why every girl I bring home is a certified 10?”

Actually you had, the two of you had met the year prior in a religious studies class when you were partnered to write a paper on whether morality was dependent on a god. He could barely get through a sentence without tripping over his words or looking away in embarrassment. It was sweet really, and by the end of the class you two had basically become best friends.

But about 2 months ago things started to change. There was almost always a girl leaving his house when you would come over.

You swore at least two of them you recognized from Victoria Secret runways.

One night you even saw a man leaving whose resemblance to Ryan Reynolds was suspiciously uncanny.

He got a new car without any explanation as to where he got the money, and he had so much coke in his living room you assumed he started dealing, before he told you it was just his stash for the weekend.

At first he was vague about everything, but eventually he told you the truth, or at least what you assumed was a version of it.

For his final project he wrote a research paper on the church of Satan.

You went with him to a couple of services when he was writing it, him being too nervous to go alone.

You both thought they seemed a little kooky, but relatively harmless.

Yet what you didn’t know was that he kept going back after the class ended and had gotten himself sworn in, and eventually given the honor of participating in a black mass.

Where he had sacrificed a school teacher in order to get these new “gifts”.

Now you weren’t naive enough to think he actually killed someone!

You were sure his new lifestyle was a part of some religious Ponzi scheme, and one day the debt collector would come calling.

You’ve watched enough documentaries to know better than to get involved with this.

But he is still your friend so you take it upon yourself to be supportive and let him have his moment, while simultaneously letting him know you’ll be here for him if the day comes that he gets excommunicated.

“I love you and I am so happy for all you’ve gotten, especially when you share it with me, but I’m good, really. I’ll let you know if I ever change my mind”

That dropped the subject for a while.

 

That is until a few days ago when you lost your job.

Well actually when your job was stolen from underneath you by your boss's son.

All it took was one night of bitching to your best friend for the talks of satanism to start up again.

//

So here you were bored on a Wednesday night actually considering his offer to watch a black mass.

‘Well…’

He texted back after a few minutes of no response on your part

‘Fine’

It’s not like he’s ever going to let up, you might as well go see what all the hubbub was about.

After he picked you up, you made your way to the church.

More precisely the back alley with a hidden door. Not at all unsettling.

And the rain pelting down on the robe he gave you just adds a nice ominese touch to what you're sure is going to be a long night.

Now inside you sit in a pew in the back. While the choir above you sings as the others file in.

They actually sound pretty good if you’re being honest. Maybe on your way out you’ll pick up the album you saw for sale in the lobby (for $6.66 no less).

You haven’t been sitting more than 10 minutes before the mass begins.

And in that time Tyler roughly explained what you were about to see.

You weren’t paying too much attention though. More enamored with the atmosphere.

It was a sea of red cloaks and black pentagrams. And the thunder outside appeared to clap along in sync with the crescendo or the choir.

This place seems vastly different from the shabby collection of misfits you encountered when you visited the first time. Who spent most of the service complaining and handed you a stale donut on your way out the door.

“...Y/n are your listening?!”

“Hmm Yea”

“Really?”

“Yea the guy’s gonna sacrifice some ‘innocent soul’ say a few hail satans and voilà he gets his hair back and starts getting laid again” you answer back, waving him off. You’re more interested in watching two Satanists in the front of the room give each other the “sign of the cross” gesture in reverse order.

“This is serious, the things you see might shock you but you can not react! If they think you’re some sort of threat to our secrets or even just afraid of them, it won’t end well. I’m kind of taking a risk by bringing you here”

That brings your attention back to your friend.

“So you hound me for weeks to come with you, but I’m not even allowed to be here?” You ask back, starting to wonder why you actually said yes to this.

“Well yea, I just really want you to see what I’ve seen, I want what’s best for you”

That was actually really sweet of him.

Now you felt a little bad for making fun of this so much.

That is until you see a man in the next row pull out a flask with “unholy water” written on it and rub it on his chest like Vick’s.

But before you get the chance to ask Tyler where he keeps his flask(which you're certain he has). The choir stops singing and the Priestess has the room's attention.

Everything goes as Tyler explains at first.

The “sacrifices” are brought in in their underwear. (They couldn’t even keep their clothes on, what does the devil give them a level up if the victims are humiliated before they die?) and tonight's chosen one, Phil, is about to take his position, before you hear a voice behind you.

“Wait!”

You turn your head to see an older woman rushing in, but it’s not her that steals your focus it’s who walks in behind her.

He is quite possibly the most attractive person you have ever seen. With cheekbones that could slice butter and soft blonde hair falling around icy blue eyes.

She says his name is Michael and this honor belongs to him.

You look over to Tyler to see what’s going on. He didn’t explain what part of the performance this was, was this some sort of second act surprise?

You were expecting this night to follow like a church service, watching Phil take his vows and minimal audience participation. Now you wonder if this is all rehearsed, or if the Satanist’s are partial to improv?

But Tyler pays you no mind, he can’t take his eyes off the blonde either.

It’s not until the Priestess mentions the “mark of the beast” and that he is the chosen one, that you get why Tyler is looking at him like he’s some sort of god.

Because to him he is, this guy is supposed to be the Antichrist.

Tyler says nothing only glances in your direction when he sees you’re the only one still standing, before he pulls you down to your knee like everyone else.

The rest of the performance is really top notch.

The flickering of the lights was a nice touch, but you can’t help but feel a little uneasy wondering how they keep getting the thunder to time up with everything they do.

Plus the bodies of the sacrifices fell to the ground almost too well.

How did they manage to get their bodies to look that lifeless, and why did those cuts look so deep?

But you try not to focus too much on it as you walk to the ceremonial Wednesday night potluck.

/

After the Antichrist has dismissed his followers from fawning all over him, you sit with Tyler at the end of the table and dig into your lasagna.

“So does the antichrist part happen at every sacrifice or is this one special? Is it some Satanic holiday I wasn’t aware of?” You ask, breaking Tyler out of whatever trance he appears to be stuck in.

“What?”

“I gotta say the dramatics were very entertaining, but if you really wanted to get me here all you had to do was tell me the guy who plays the Antichrist is really hot” you snicker under your breath.

“Play? Y/n your don’t understand he IS the Antichrist” he explains in a hushed voice before continuing

“That doesn’t happen every time, he really has come. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Don’t you see?! I think it was fate you came here on this night!”

“Ha, why do you need a virgin to sacrifice or something?” You laugh and take another bite before you look over and see Tyler staring at you with wide eyes.

“What?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

“Well yea, what’s the big deal, I didn’t realize you were so caught up on a social construct”

“I’m not, but you can’t say things like that around here” he looks around the room nervously and you follow his path of vision until your eyes land on Michael, who’s own gaze is locked on you.

There’s no way he heard you, you were across the room and you were whispering.

Still he continues to stare with eyes that speak only of intensity. No smile, no nod, no hint emotion whatsoever.

It’s only after you raise your brows and mouth a “What?” That he looks back down at his plate with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh Satan, I think he heard you. You should go” Tyler’s tone becoming more erratic by the second.

“What?” You’re sure he's joking, but when he looks at you there is nothing but worry in his eyes.

Now you’re starting to get nervous, this is too far.

He actually thinks these people are going to do something?

He’s practically shaking with fear, and because of the man in the turtleneck? Who barely knows how to hold a spoon?

Okay you’ll play along for tonight, but tomorrow you are having a serious talk, he might need professional help.

“Alright let's go then” you huff out as you start to grab your belongings.

“I can’t just leave, especially since our savior is here, but I’ll make sure everything is good and you’re not followed or anything”

“Okay, is there some sort of satanic shuttle bus that can take me home? Or should I call an Uber? Does this place have an address or should I just send them an inverted cross?”

Still unamused by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation, he just shakes his head and hands you his keys.

“Here just take my car, I’ll get a ride later, in fact stay at my house incase you’re followed”

He’s basically pushing you out of your seat and nodding to the door.

“Okay...bye I guess”

And with that you take off down the hall.

You know you’re supposed to go straight to the car. You’ve never seen Tyler look so serious in his life.

But when you walk past the chapel you can’t help but stop. You can still see the bodies up at the altar.

Why are they still there? Was there a trap door you missed and these were just doubles?

Or were these people so committed to the role and as crazy as your friend that they had to stay in the character of “dead sacrifice” all night?

Curiosity got the better of you, the car could wait, you had to see for yourself.

Closer inspection did nothing to stifle your suspicions.

It looked so real.

They weren’t breathing, so there was no way they were still the two actors, but you had never seen fake bodies look so real.

You're reminded of an anatomy class you took last semester.

Those cadavers looked suspiciously close to these.

Just colder and with less life left in their faces.

And there was so much blood, the iron was thick in the air.

But that couldn’t be true. Your friend wouldn’t kill someone would he?

He didn’t actually think they would kill you?

If you got a closer look, if you just swiped some of the “blood” with your pointer finger it would surely taste like corn syrup and not like…

“Are you afraid?”

You whip your head around, blood still staining your finger and beginning to drip onto the linoleum. To see Michael walking in the same way he had an hour earlier. Only this time without the cloak, but with some newly added confidence.

“They’re really dead aren’t they?” You know it’s true, but you still wait for his confirmation.

“Yes, that tends to happen when you slice someone’s throat” He acts as if this shouldn’t be a shock to you. It didn’t shock any of the other members of the congregation. Yet you know without him saying it, that he’s well aware you’re not like the others. That you don’t belong here.

“So you really sacrifice people, just to get stuff” you blurt out. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that everything you witnessed tonight was real. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken that last crescent roll you’d seen another satanist eyeing at dinner, you definitely have a curse coming your way. That is if you live through the night.

“Well not me” Michael says, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

“Oh of course, you’re the one they do it for”

“Well my father more specifically”

“Does that upset you?” You know you should be more careful about how you proceed with this conversation, but the words leave your mouth before your mind can stop them.

The question seems to catch him by surprise as he ruffles his brow, you’re not sure if it’s in anger or just shock at your brazenness. But he doesn’t answer. Just goes on to question you.

“Have you ever witnessed a murder before?”

“No”

“How did you feel watching it before your eyes?”

“Well I didn’t feel much, considering I thought it was all fake” That earns you a smile from him.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Curious”

“Really? Not scared?”

“No. Why should I be?” You’re really digging your own grave here. But your mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

“It seems your friend would say otherwise”

“Ah so you did hear.” You say, seeing his smile grow wider. “These aren't the days of the Old Testament, virginity doesn’t equally purity. Just ask sacrifice number one over there, with a body like that I doubt she was a virgin” you laugh, partially at your joke and partially out of sheer uncomfortableness. Michael doesn’t even spare the bodies a glance, eyes latched onto you, you go on to add

“I’m no saint. Despite my sexual history, or lack thereof”

“No, I’m sure you’re not” he emphasizes by swiping some of the liquid from your finger with his own, before taking it into his mouth. Making a show of it by closing his eyes as he releases it from his lips, slow as molasses. Smiling when he opens his eyes and sees you’re practically drooling.

Before his little show can go any further, you continue with your own questions.

“Have you killed people before?”

“Yes”

“How many?”

“You don’t have the time”

He’s looking at you waiting for your response. Waiting for the shock to subside and the shrieks of terror to take over.

Instead you just pause thinking everything over.

You should be scared, you know you should.

In one night you have watched two people die, found out your friend is a murderer, and that the Antichrist is not only NOT a myth, but is standing in front of you, conversing with you like he’s nothing more than your new neighbor.

Yet you search and search in your mind for any hint of fear and come up empty. All you feel is curiosity. You must be losing it too, you feel bad for judging Tyler so harshly. Maybe it’s his youthful face and the little outburst in the dining hall earlier, but Michael seems like more than simply the ‘incarnation of evil’. He seems so...human.

And more than anything he just seems confused and dare you say, lost.

“Do you like killing people? Or do you do it because it’s expected?”

“It depends”

“Would you like to kill me?”

Now it’s his turn to take pause, looking like he’s trying to decide if he’s “in the mood” to take your life.

“Not right now”

You can’t help but laugh at that (yea you’re definitely in shock). Soon enough he joins in too, and the mood feels lighter than it has all night. You might even say you feel comfortable.

That is until the laughter subsides and you meet his eyes. He’s now staring at you with the same intensity you’d met earlier at dinner.

It’s like he’s looking right through you, into your soul. You feel on display and more than anything afraid of what he might find.

“Stop that”

“Stop what?” He says with a playful tone and a tilt of his head.

“You’re..well..I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it. You’re trying to get a read on me or something.”

He just smiles at that, because of course he does.

You know there is no avoiding playing into his hand. He wants to get a rise out of you, in one way or another.

“And what do yo-”

“Y/N!”

At the mention of your name you both turn to see Tyler standing in the doorway.

Antichrist or not, the look Michael gives him is enough to send a wave of fear up your spine.

He appears as though he’s about to snap his neck through just a look(and you're afraid to find out if he could).

Noticing his anger, Tyler stops and bows before Michael, apologizing incessantly for interrupting him.

You don’t miss the twitch of Michael’s lips. He’s clearly loving the effects he has on his followers.

You just roll your eyes at your friend.

“Calm down Tyler, get up”

He just let’s your words pass over him as if you hadn’t even spoken. If he hadn’t been the one to call your name a moment ago, you wouldn’t be sure he even knew you were in the room.

Every sense he had was aimed at Michael, and it was only when his precious dark lord gave him a nod that he got up and looked your way again.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going home?” He says through clenched teeth.

If he weren’t so worried about keeping you alive he would be pissed at you for not listening.

“I was. I am” you reassure him turning to Michael.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Michael, I’ll see myself out”

You are scurrying out of the room, grabbing a frozen Tyler and tugging him along with you, when Michael calls after you.

“No y/n, the pleasure was all mine.”

You’re at the end of the hall, and in the middle of Tyler’s scolding session, when you realize there is still blood on your finger.

It feels like it’s vibrating where Michael touched you, begging you to take notice.

Just wipe it on your jeans, you tell yourself.

Wait until you get to the car and find a napkin.

Do anything rational other than what you're thinking.

As you pass through the exit door, you cave and take a taste of the crimson on your finger.

Although you can’t see him, you know Michael is smiling. You can feel his smugness in the air around you and you're sure he knows what you just did.

This started out just as me wanting to make some jokes about Michael and the Satanists and has somehow turned into a multi-chapter fic. I still don’t really know where it’s going I’m just letting it take on a mind of it’s own. If it looks familiar it’s cuz it’s been on ao3 for a little bit now, so sorry it’s not a “new” new story! If you liked it that makes me very happy, and if not I hope it was at least entertaining! Either way thank you for reading!

(I wasn’t sure who wanted to be tagged just in my Xavier fic and who did in general so I didn’t add a tag list to this one)

[nafeary]

Napoleon, Theo, Dazai, and Jean reacting to College Student!MC Stressed by Deadlines

Requested by @hqissodelicate:

hey toni boo, sara/delicateikemenmemes here ❤ i've been Going Through It with school 😔 so i was thinking of how my boos napoleon, theo, dazai & jean would react to MC who's a (stressed, exhausted) student who got yeeted to the mansion in the midst of a bunch of deadlines? thank you boo & i hope you're drinking your water 💙😤

✧✎ A/N: I’m sorry it took me this long to finish... but this was super fun to write and it helped me get back into writing after such a long break due to school bs. I’m not too satisfied with Dazai’a and the haphazard scenario/headcanons mush, but I still quite like this I think. Thank you for the request dear! Take care and drink water, everyone!

Warnings: Stress and mild mentions of anxiety, and like one mention of sexual intercourse

Napoleon Bonaparte

“You’re just a chore, after all.”

You whirled around. “Don’t act like your job is going to be that hard,” you could only scoff in annoyance, “I’m going to be inside my room all day, anyway.”

At first, Napoleon was slightly confused by your statement. Wouldn’t you want to explore this new world at all? But according to code, he’d just smirk and go (sleep) do smth

And true to your statement, you did stay inside your room for the most part

It’s not like your quadrillion essays would write themselves

It’s not like your college would just excuse your tardiness

It’s not like—

“Nunuche, you sure you don’t need a break from... whatever you’re doing?”

Napoleon was quite suddenly standing besides you, trying to read the mess that you’ve created.

“And who gave you permission to enter?”

“Me, obviously. I did have the impression that you were in danger, judging from the amount of curses I perceived.”

You could have died from embarrassment. Of course he had to hear your yells of frustration, stemming from the fact that your laptop was out of order, that you had no idea how to use ink properly, and—

“Have you realised that you regularly zone out?”

“I suppose? But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to finish...” you trailed off, gesturing to the papers in front of you.

However, at his inquisitive gaze, you decided to explain that these were essays that could very well decide how you’d pass university, and, upon further inquiry, elaborated how a modern student’s life looked like

He never interrupted you unnecessarily, only to ask questions when a concept was too modern for him to comprehend

Your cursed assignments certainly made your life in the past harder to enjoy, but it also brought you and the emperor closer than ever

Unable to access the internet—or visit the college library—you had no proper sources for you references (considering that Comte’s library had no modern content, naturally)

You also didn’t want to bother Sebastian, especially since him and Comte had shown so much understanding for your peril that they practically forbid you from helping him out around the mansion

Their reasoning didn’t make you feel less bad though

Hence, you only had one option left that could complete your last essay

Which oh-so conveniently encompasses the Napoleonic Wars, something you truly did not want to burden him with

“Napoleon? Remember those essays that I have to finish for my university courses?”

“Of course.”

You were twiddling your thumbs, contemplating whether your grades are worth revisiting unpleasant memories, aka the taboo of the mansion

Abruptly, he grabbed your cheeks with just enough force to turn you away from looking at your feet, but not enough to inflict pain. “If there is anything I can help you with, I’d never shy away from it.”

Begrudgingly, you inquired him about his reign with as little focus on the gruesome details as possible your professor be damned

And holy shit, he’s amazing at writing? And Not just cringey love letters? Panty Sniffer Napoleon brrrrr

As you grew closer, he’s spoil you with vitamin-rich snacks (going as far as asking Arthur and Sebastian for medical advice)

He enjoys carving cute shapes out of fruits and eggs because he knows that their and his adorable presence will prompt the perfect amount of distraction to allow a small moment of rest

Says that it’s his duty as your guard and boyfriend to take care of your overworking habits

Expect frequent complaints from your beau, ranging from “how could they assign so many essays? Aren’t students just humans, too?” to “‘Reasons Why Edison Is Better Than Newton’? Do they even know what they’re talking about? Tch!”

Theodorus Van Gogh

You gleefully indulged in his charades for the first few days. They were a welcome distraction from your college work, after all

But the procrastination was accompanied by guilt, your anxiety building up every second you spent helping Sebastian with the chores, and gallivanting around town with Theo

A week passed before your sense of responsibility finally kicked in. So when Sebas came to wake you up just as the sun peaked past the horizon, you were already scribbling away on some sheets you’d found in your drawers

“Ah, good morning, Sebastian-san.”

“Good morning... what are you writing, if I may ask?”

“Just some essays for my college courses...” you said, glancing dejectedly at your notes.

Now that you didn’t have access to the internet, and your laptop’s battery was all used up, it made your work all the more tedious, but you had to set your teeth and do this.

“Give me 10 minutes, and I’ll join you in the kitchen.”

He had wanted to argue, but you didn’t let him. And when he saw you leaving the house with Theo later in the afternoon, he could only shake his head.

You felt like you owed the art dealer, especially since you blurted out his secret the literal next moment, so you committed to helping him while also keeping up with your work

Although, him calling you dog wasn’t nice either—even though, according to Sebas’ explanation, Hondje wasn’t exactly the equivalent to mutt

That cycle continued for days. Helping out around the mansion, getting pulled around by Theo, and writing your essays deep into the night

Not to mention all the worries that pressured your shoulders further and further into the ground

You were missing so many group project deadlines, disappointing people that relied on you... it was safe to say that sleep did not come easy, if barely

Just before you arrived at your room after a late night art exhibit did your body decide to fail you, tripping over nothing multiple times.

It prompted Theo to call you out before you could even think of rushing past the door, steadying you with a hand more gentle than you had ever experienced it to be.

“Sebas informed me that you’ve been working yourself to death.”

You silently cursed the butler. “I haven’t—“

“Give me your laptop.”

Perplexion ran across your mien, wondering how he could possibly have remembered such a modern detail from your countless rambles. “It’s batt— it doesn’t work right now, so it’s not like it would stop me from working.”

Arguing with the devil was a mistake.

He snaked his arms around you, holding the door handle in place with one hand while the other still kept you upright. “I don’t care whether you work or not, I’m not your mother. And regardless of its abilities, hand it over, knabbletje.”

What other choice did you have but to comply?

He ordered—yes, ordered—you to go to bed right that instant

If you hesistanly ask him to do the same (we all know what a hard worker he is), he’ll just press a guileless kiss to your forehand, telling you not to worry about him

The next morning, you were already worrying for your baby’s safety within the sadist’s hands when the devil invited himself into your room

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“Morning to you, too, Hondje.” He sent you an overly handsome smirk, handing you the laptop tucked underneath his arms. “You won’t be able to use that spider web Sebas told me about, but writing should work.”

You stared at Theo in disbelief, all the while internally laughing at him misinterpreting the World Wide Web. Deciding to trust in him, you clicked the power button. And sure enough, it sprang to life. “What... how in the world did you...”

Leo overheard you and Sebas talking about solar energy sometime… hush, just run with it

He fell into the seat next to you, propping his chin upon his fist. “I didn’t do anything. Just asked Sebas whether there was a way for you to use this. Leonardo took notice and tinkered around with it. Don’t ask—ah!”

You threw your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “Thank you for taking care of me, Theo.”

Would you have lifted your face, then you’d have caught a glimpse of the vermillion shading his cheeks. “I didn’t do it to help you. I simply can’t risk having you become a liability at work. That’s all.”

Anyway, tsundere tendencies aside, you know what another big factor of dating Theo is?

King if you’re not allergic, understandably, if so, he’ll change his clothes before even thinking of visiting you

On days that you decide to be especially stubborn, he pulls you outside, all the whilst whistling for the jolly golden retriever

And as soon as he comes running, your mind goes brrrrr cute dog

Although, he’ll try his best not to distract you from work. He knows from personal experience that it’s a much bigger annoyance than help

Thus, he’ll certainly use his connections and amiable rip Shakes relationships with the residents to help you out with the research process

Also, with his superior memory, he knows what generally makes you happy and relaxed, so he’ll be his usual observant self to decipher just what would help you perfectly relax/finish your work

Hardworking boi, please love him

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is the type of person that doesn’t mind upsetting people and risking someone’s disdain if it supports that person in the long run

And he’s able to read people like books, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he knows you’re overwhelmed before you even realize it

You’ve been going to sleep too late and waking up too early? He’ll gently force you (if you’re 100% against it, he won’t do it ofc) to sleep beside him, making sure that you won’t rise with the sun for once

You’ve been exposing your wrist to heavy sprain? He’ll teach you some handy-dandy 5 Min Crafts techniques that are guaranteed to send your hands on a vacation

You've been suffering from writer’s block? Time to go on a lovely stroll through nature with your boo

Your shoulders and neck are hurting beyond sanity? He swears by hot springs, so the thermae is his go-to for when you need to relive some muscle kinks

He never fails to procure the perfect amount of bubbles and temperature. And depending on how comfortable you are with it, he’ll offer to wash your hair.

And since dude got Disney princess hands, you most probably fall asleep, but our man is there to hold you above the water

His bare thighs are an added bonus, sending your mind into spirals faaaar away from college work

After you’re done bathing, he’ll ask you whether you’d like him to braid your hair (if it’s long enough), and his Disney princess hands will not disappoint

In the beginning, it was incredibly vexing to have a security cam in the form of a handsome man always on the qui vive

But at some point, you started embracing Dazai’s overwhelmingly passive—you knew exactly what he was doing whenever he’d do something random—protectiveness

Especially since it didn’t only help you complete your work; on the contrary, you were always excited to spend time with the Japanese writer

But that didn’t curb your confusion at the whole debacle. Why was he this focused on your well-being?

So, you decided to confront him

“Dazai?” Once again, you were relaxing in his arms, his fingers threading through your hair lulling you into a dreamlike state.

He ticked his head to the side, pulling your entwined hands closer towards his heart. The sun streamed into the run at just the right angle, yet the golden light was not as bright as his vivid citrine orbs.

You sighed, unable to look at his stupid handsome face for too long. ”Why is it that you insist on taking care of me?”

“Someone has to, Toshiko-san.”

You’d have blurted out your feelings if it wasn’t for the sudden embrace you found yourself in. As guileless as it appeared, you knew he was trying to stop you from acting on your thoughts.

Deciding that you didn’t want to pressure him further (after all, you knew that he had a hellish first life), you accepted the unclarity of his feelings—even though his actions spoke loud enough for you to understand.

It was that day that you decided to repay him for all he’s done for you

And you wouldn’t let him yeet himself through a window in an attempt to evade the love sent his way this time

Even if it took decades, you wanted him to feel just as safe and loved as you did in his company

You were glad to have such a caring man by your side who helps you with managing you self care

You could only hope that he’d allow himself to be treated the same way

Please just take our love, boo. We love you

Jean d’Arc

Well fuck, how could he possibly help someone who’s stressed when he himself is a 24/7 McDonalds that only sells Chicken McStress?

Anywho, I feel like he’d be the complete opposite of Dazai when confronted with a stressed MC

He’d care just as much, of course, but he thinks that it would be better to give her space, since he himself understands the desire for solitude well

So yeah, I can see him not going out of his way to check up on you if you weren’t super duper close friends/lovers IF it wasn’t for his friend Napoleon

After all, it was him who gave your boyfriend a lil talk, convincing him that, perhaps even if someone needs space, they probably still need someone to look after them

Living with Jean is basically Ted Talks everyday

Anyway, he embarked on his journey to hopefully help you and and to relieve some stress that was wearing you down (according to the statement of several residents)

And, finding himself halting abruptly, our pessimistic little bean realised that he’s got zero idea what did help you attain bliss

So he opted for the next best option—things he knew that made his friends relax

Plan A

Hearing a few oddly reluctant raps on your door, you went to open it. As soon as you did, the beautiful man who’d captured your heart entered your vision, your eyes finding his amethyst ones immediately.

You two stayed like that for a moments, only breaking eye contact when he sighed and simultaneously thrusted a mug into your hand, already in the process striding back to his own room.

“Uhm… Jean? I’m a bit busy right now, but would you like to come in?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t you find it inappropriate for a man to enter your room, mademoiselle?”

“Jean,” you giggled at his archaic mindset, gently rubbing your thumb between his brows to even out the crease. “We’ve had sex before, you know. Of course you ca—“

Wrong thing to say. He stormed past you, vermillion cheeks practically leaving a trail.

Chuckling to yourself, you turned to the mug’s contents. “Hm? Hot chocolate?”

Plan B:

“If this doesn’t harbor your discomfort…” Your boyfriend reluctantly stood in your room’s corner, standing straighter than a rod.

Frankly, your essays have kept you entirely too busy, and you longed for the warmth of the French man’s feather-like embrace.

“On the contrary, I enjoy your presence.” And you went right back to scribbling away.

Jean frowned. “Haven’t you been writing stories since this morning?”

“They’re not stories… and, yeah? I believe so.”

Stepping towards your seated form, he extended his hand; you grabbed it without thinking twice. “Is everything alrig—whoa!”

With the ease of a seasoned soldier, he picked you up before haphazardly tugging you into bed with bewilderment maring your features. “You should sleep.”

“—what?”

He stared at you blankly, as if expecting you to fall into the land of dreams right that instant.

“Did something prompt,” you slipped your arms out from underneath the duvets, gesturing wildly, “this?”

It was hard to be upset with Jean, his clueless but genuine persona the reason why you fell for him, yet you couldn’t disguise the irritation coursing through your veins—you had work to return to, after all.

“I think you need to rest, mademoiselle.”

Your blinking made him avert his eyes, explaining quietly, “I am uncertain what supports your release of tension, so I thought that perhaps sleeping could help since it certainly does show affect with Napoleon.”

“Ah, and you made me hot chocolate since that’s what calms Mozart.”

After internally simping for his soft and wholesome dumbass energy, you pulled him to bed beside you, claiming that it would help you relax (but only after telling him that it was okay for him to ask for your preferences)

And falling asleep to the heartbeat underneath his broad chest is definitely a 5-star-resort vacation

He’d eventually ask his relationship advisor Napoleon whether it is okay to have you help them out with his reading/writing lessons (you

You, alongside Napoleon, steadily agreed, despite knowing that it was a ploy to keep you away from overworking

Please also love this boy, thanks

Tag List of the most wonderful sweethearts (just message me if you’d like to be added <3): @juminly @kisara-16 @sweetlittlemouse @thesirenwashere @nad-zeta @delicateikemenmemes

[shoichee]

Hello and congrats on the 100 milestone! Can you do prompt #19 for Midorima? 😁

MAN OH MAN IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME BUT I’M FINALLY BACK, TSYM for being here since the beginning, i rlly rlly appreciate it <333 so HERES SOME FLUFF

Midorima x Reader

19. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Word Count: 3349

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

“Seriously, are you sure you’re not secretly related to Shin-chan?” Takao shoves another helping of rice into his mouth and you instantly frown at his messy eating habits.

“Takao, it doesn’t hurt to wipe the grains off your cheeks with napkins that the cafeteria always abundantly provides,” you say, not once taking your eyes off of the study guide you compiled for the class final. “And please don’t talk with your mouth open.” You can easily sense Takao groaning before slapping his eyes while leaning back in frustration, but you still carried on in skimming your notes instead.

“And that’s exactly why Shin-chan doesn’t know how to approach you,” he petulantly mumbles. You spared a glance above your packets, not catching his inaudible words.

“Pardon?”

“Never mind,” Takao sighs, settling to childishly stabbing the shrimp tempuras with his chopsticks and popping them into his mouth. “You werdn’t gert it.”

“What did I just say about your eating manners?” You roll your eyes, choosing to brush off his words as you continue to devote your attention to your papers. Takao simply opts to noisily munch on the rest of his lunch while being deep in thought, letting you study in some relative peace. He then gets up, tosses his trash away, and plops back down on his seat, and he props up his chin on his arm, watching you completely engrossed in your own world and figuring out how to exactly figure out his next best course of action.

“Y’know what? Screw this, I’m not getting paid to be a wingman for two difficult people,” he dramatically sighs, purposely trying to get your attention, and it worked. “You might wanna start paying attention to poor Shin-chan before he over thinks himself to death.” Takao does an exaggerated shrug and a shake of his head to emphasize the “seriousness” of the situation. You merely frown.

“You never cease to amaze me with your convoluted words. If you want something from me, just spit it out already.” You reluctantly let down your papers to give him your undivided attention, and Takao leans closer, dropping his voice to a hush.

“Look, I know you see him in a different light from the others,” he whispers conspiringly. “And he does too.” He makes pointer-finger motions in front of him to represent “you” and “Midorima.”

“... This again?” You pinch your nose bridge and release a harsh sigh, but you nonetheless let Takao continue.

“Come on, would it really hurt to do a confession? For someone so blunt and straightforward, you’re really dragging this out for way too long.” Takao frowns at your deadpan expression but continues his little movements with his makeshift “finger puppets.” “Once you”—he takes his left index finger—“and Shin-chan”—he brings his right index closer to his left—“do the chu”— he brings his index fingers together to imply the situation—“I can finally be free from the clutches of Shi—”

“I already told you,” you smoothly interrupt, “that we don’t see each other that way. He’s been a reliable partner in class projects and a very helpful person to share notes with. I’m very certain it’s like that on his end with me too.”

“Why do you sound so disappointed when you say it like that?” Takao slowly grows a shit-eating (yet hopeful) smirk. You scowl at his implications. Takao amusedly notes that you’re way too similar to his best friend.

“There’s no chance that we’ll ever get to that stage… ever. Okay? Satisfied now?”

“So you are disappointed at the possible outcome,” Takao gleefully says, his face showing all signs of plans being concocted in his mind. You completely widen your eyes at your simple slip-up.

“I… it’s not a possible outcome, damn it,” you vehemently insist. “It’s a guarantee.”

“Puh-lease (y/n)-chan, how do you know unless you try it?”

“Alright Takao,” you dryly reply. “Why don’t you try staring directly at the sun first before confirming that you become blind from that?”

“That’s not the same!”

“Same logic,” you huff. “Look, you know Midorima-san more than anyone, and even you know how he thinks. He finds the concept of friends and teammates to be pretty unnecessary, and frankly I can empathize with him. If he finds camaraderie to be a hassle already, dating is already beyond off the table. It takes much more to be a genuine friend to him than your average person, and if I do, by chance, confess, I’d be throwing away everything that I built up with him like an idiot… just being like this with him is more than enough for me. Besides, a relationship isn’t important right now, not when class takes up most of the time.”

“Well, normally yes, but in this specific case, there’s an excep—”

“I already came clean with this,” you say, furrowing your brows. “So can you finally let me study for this class in peace? Obviously, it’s a given for you not to open your mouth to anyone else about this.” With that, you tune out any further noise and burrow yourself into your class materials, and Takao could only sigh as he tries to wrack his brain for another way to play wingman.

“... Seriously, they’re both so stubborn.”

———

“(y/n)-san.”

“Hm?”

You turn around from looking at the bulletin to the person who just addressed you. Midorima stares down at you quite seriously before he promptly clears his throat.

“You’re blocking the way, nanodayo.”

“Ah… I apologize,” you say, immediately stepping closer to the bulletin to clear up the hallway. You turn your face to appear fixated on the bulletin board, but still sensing Midorima staring at you, you reluctantly peek at him from your peripheral vision. “... Is there something else you need, Midorima-san?” Midorima looks at the bulletin board for a moment before he turns back to your face.

“Regarding the group project we were paired to do in chemistry,” he starts, “the teacher praised our work very highly and wants to know if he can use it as an example for future lectures. I’m here to hear your answer on his behalf.”

You mentally sigh from the secretive disappointment. Of course Midorima was here for straightforward business. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, Takao’s words begin flitting through your mind now… of all times.

“Of course he can use it,” you smile. “I think it’s an honor to have our project regarded so highly like that, especially since so much effort was put into it… although… I think you’re the reason why we received such a high score, Midorima-san.” You train your gaze on Midorima, trying to gauge his reaction from the compliment, but he gives no such sign away, not any that you were aware of as far as you were concerned.

“(y/n)-san, I believe your own efforts and work ethic shouldn’t be trivialized,” Midorima replies, briefly closing his eyes and adjusting his frames. “After all, you are the one who made this project a cohesive final product, one that is also comprehensible to other peers in our presentation.”

“Ah… well…” You were definitely thrown in for a loop, not expecting Midorima to compliment you back so openly, albeit probably not for the reasons you were hoping for. “... Thank you, Midorima.” In an attempt to curb your growing flusteredness, you opted to stare at the bulletin board again, pretending to be occupied in reading the pinned papers.

“... Right.” Midorima softly clears his throat. “I’ll be taking my leave back to the faculty office. It was good talking to you.”

He swiftly turns around and walks back in the direction he came from, and when you were certain that he was walking judging from his footsteps, you turn your head to stare at his back before averting your gaze.

You frown once he exits out of your sight as you ponder about his particular diction.

“It was good talking to you”? Had Midorima ever said that to anyone before? You sigh to yourself and pinch your nose bridge to chastise yourself. Takao was right; you might’ve fallen a little too hard for the reserved individual, but even still, a relationship isn’t something you wanted to actively chase after.

Amidst your dilemma, you were completely unaware that Takao watched the entire exchange, holding back his laughter from seeing you uncharacteristically look like an absolute love-stricken fool. He got too much of a kick out of seeing the both of you trying to flirt… and an even bigger kick when he saw Midorima turning around to briefly “discreetly” stare at you while you were having your inner monologue.

———

“Takao, I’m having none of your bullshit today.” Midorima simply scowls as he prepares to leave the main building to the gym. Takao merely tags along while taunting him in a sing-song voice.

“Come onnn,” Takao insists, slapping Midorima’s back a little too harshly. “You said it yourself didn’t you? Favorable outcomes come to those who prepare the most. Don’t lie, I know you’ve been planning to naturally bump into our (y/n)-chan in different scenarios. Like yesterday in the hall—”

“You knew?!” Midorima jumps out of his skin to shoot an accusatory look at him, but Takao merely struggles to hold back a snicker at his reaction.

“Shin-chan, how hard is it to say three specific little words to someone else?” Takao sends a frustrated look. “You’ve always gone the extra mile to prepare your lucky items, read the Oha Asa predictions, and do little rituals not just for yourself but also for (y/n)-chan too, yet you don’t want to do a simple thing like confessing?”

“A confession isn’t that simple,” he retorts. “It can alter my fate for potentially worse if I’m not prepared.”

“Jeez, only you can take this so seriously,” Takao sighs, which only earned him a withering look from Midorima’s end. “But then again, it’s nice that you see it as something serious… but when are you actually gonna do it?” His response was only silence, as if he didn’t really give much thought about it until it was brought up now.

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh come on, Shin-chan!”

“To be honest,” he says, stopping in place. “The horoscope says that Cancers would be rejected by signs like of (y/n)-san’s, much less be compatible. Predictions state that such relationships between the two would be troublesome.”

“Okay, Shin-chan,” Takao says, patting Midorima’s shoulder. “I know I constantly joke about this Oha Asa and this entire thing with (y/n)-chan, but”—he stops when he sees Midorima giving him another scathing look—“even if the horoscopes state it so, it’s like you said: favorable outcomes come to those who do the most. If you did everything you could, I see no reason to be scared. Plus, you have me to help you.”

“... It’s not that. Part of this is beyond what I can do to prepare. Whatever I do will not influence (y/n)-san’s answer, and that is something out of my control.”

“You know, you could just say that you’re nervous.”

“I am not.”

“Well, if you want me to be honest,” Takao says. “I think it’s because the two of you are so eerily similar that you find it hard to approach (y/n)-san. Like, when’s the last time you’ve met someone as serious and stiff as yo—I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Please don’t raise your fist at me!”

“That being said,” he continues, “Just talk to (y/n) like you’ve talked to everyone else. I mean you both always hit it off when you talk together in class.”

“I… suppose…”

“Trust me,” Takao grins, slightly elbowing Midorima’s ribs. “I’d like to think of myself as an accurate guy in ball-passing and in detecting social cues.”

———

You really tried to carry yourself normally.

You really did.

But a part of you is becoming hyper-aware of everything Midorima does, and being your normally collected self is suddenly becoming a lot more difficult. Studying at your own desk is nigh impossible with both Midorima’s words and Takao’s implications running through your mind. Even Midorima, who normally minds his own business, shoots you pensive looks here and there during class, and he approaches you during break after.

“... Your sign is at one of the lowest ranks in luck today… may that be the reason why you’re not being your usual self?” He studies as you pull yourself together.

“Erm… somewhere along the lines, yeah. Most likely woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you mumble, rubbing your neck to ease the nervousness.

“Is that so…” he says. He pulls out a small toy that was found in the local gachapon down the street. “Ahem… I hear that your lucky item is this today.” He holds it out in front of you, silently waiting for you to take it, and you gently pluck it out of his large hands.

“Well, what about you?” you inquire. “I’m sure you got this toy for a reason, like say… for your own good luck?”

“Well,” he coughs. “I have my own. I am always prepared for such occurrences should things go awry.”

“You’re always so prepared for everything,” you quietly laugh. “Not that it’s a bad thing, though. I do wish I was more like you in that regard.”

“W-Well, I think you have your own admirable traits to be proud of, er…” Midorima slowly turns red and contemplates backtracking on his words. “I-If you excuse me, I must get going for health committee duties, nanodayo.” He heaves his bag on his shoulder as you wave at him, and he lingers there, debating on something that you aren’t sure what it is. “Might you have time afterschool today?”

“Uh… not that I think of,” you reply. “Are you already looking ahead to the next partner assignment?”

“Actually, no… it won’t take much of your time, (y/n)-san. It’s something quick. Can we meet at the vending machines near the gym? I do have practice around that time, so I hope somewhere nearby could suffice for you too.”

“That’s fine with me, because… I feel like I need to tell you something too or I won’t be able to study at this rate, but if you have practice, shouldn’t you be focused on that more?”

“It’s fine. This one takes… a higher priority.” Midorima fixes his glasses and readjusts his grip on his shoulder bag as he ponders about your own words. “If this arrangement is fine with you, I will be seeing you after school.” You only nod as you wave goodbye at him again, and you exhale a long sigh of relief and nervousness once he leaves. You really wonder if telling Midorima that you had something important to tell him was a good move on your part, considering that you can’t backtrack your words on someone as stubborn as him. Takao may or may not have seen Midorima’s attempt in being forward and silently laughed himself to oblivion in the corner of the classroom.

———

“Were you waiting long, Midorima-san?” You briskly jog with your heavy bag to the destined location to see Midorima thumbing through his book before he looks up.

“You are as punctual as always.” He closes his book with a thud and places it in his bag on the bench before he stands up to face you. “Which is always appreciated considering it is not as common in others.”

“I just think it’s common courtesy.”

“Not quite, considering I asked you rather suddenly to meet me here,” he says. “You aren’t obligated to even agree in meeting me, yet here you are on time, just like with our past project sessions.”

“Well… you did say it was important enough that you put practice as a second priority, and I do want to tell you something too.”

“R-Right…”

An awkward silence dominates the exchange after Midorima clears his throat and goes silent as you patiently wait in agony. You eye at his troubled expression, wondering what sort of thing he was going to tell you that got him so worked up. At the same time, you grew slightly antsier, quietly tapping a foot or rubbing your neck, and you wonder if Midorima was actually waiting for you to say something first.

“I… I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”

“I-I believe I may have developed feelings akin to attraction for you.”

“Uh…”

“Ahem…”

Both of you stare at each other in unadulterated surprise.

“... You… like me?” Midorima murmurs, his eyes still full blown in shock.

“L-Likewise,” you reply, opting to stare at Midorima’s bag on the bench instead. Another awkward silence ensues as both of you take in each other’s sudden words and Midorima clears his throat again.

“... Why are you afraid of liking me?” Midorima restores his composure, staring at your flustered state with furrowed brows, thinking that he somehow made you uncomfortable at some point throughout the year.

“Wait… no! That’s not what I meant!” you say, mildly shaking your head. “Uh, let me rephrase that…” Midorima silently watches you as you continue. “Well, you weren’t the person to have romance in your mind, let alone have feelings, let alone for me, and… my friendship with you is something that I treasure, and I don’t want to hinder you with such things that can make you uncomfortable in being around me. That was why I was afraid, although I’ve been in denial about it until recently.”

“I see.”

“And um, I thought that confessing to you would end the friendship we had.”

“... Likewise.” Midorima uses your word against you with an upward curl of his lip. It almost seems like he was teasing you. You grow redder at his response, but he continued. “I suppose the lucky item I gave you provided the most favorable outcome for the day.” You only nod as you processed everything that just happened in a few moments, and both of you went quiet again.

“...”

“...”

“So…”

“... I’m not sure what to do next,” Midorima frowns. “I wasn’t prepared for this particular situation, nanodayo.” You only smile at his own flusters.

“Well…” you say. “We could date, but I don’t think that’s important right now, considering that we still have to focus on school… I mean unless you want to, then we can try to make it work?”

“Ahem, while I do think these things are quite frivolous,” he says. “I suppose we can learn to balance our relationship with other aspects of our lives accordingly.”

“I would like that,” you smile, walking to approach closer to Midorima. “Could we… um, hold hands? If you’re not into that though, that’s okay.” He says nothing in response but his hand slowly reaches out for your own to gently clasp, and closes his eyes in bliss before he opens them to look at you.

“... I must go to practice soon. It’s almost time.”

“I see,” you mumble. “If that’s the case, I’ll be inside the library to cram in extra lectures.” You pull your hand away to separate, but he holds you tighter. “Midorima?”

“... I’ll walk you there, nanodayo.” He peers over your face to gauge any objections on your end, but when he finds none, he gently tugs you along as you both walk to the building next-door.

“I never knew you were into hand-holding.”

“N-Not really,” he quietly says, his ears turning red.

“Actually,” you say, bringing Midorima’s attention back to you in light of the topic change. “I need to thank Takao tomorrow… he’s the one who pushed me to confess.”

“Hmph,” he scoffs. “I do suppose that the idiot has some merits to his words.”

“I do now see what he means when he keeps insisting that we’re too alike in personality and preferences.”

“That just means we’re more compatible than what fate initially predicted, nanodayo.”

“You checked the horoscopes for relationship compatibility? Never would I have thought that such things occupied your mind, Midorima…”

“Urk—That’s…”