#I have several fics I should be working on

[starlightkyeom]

hit replay | x.mh

(where your ex moves into the empty unit in your apartment building and maybe the relationship isn't over after all)

pairing: xu minghao x afab!reader genre: exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers | fluff, romance, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: 12.7k (this was less than 4k yesterday idk) warnings: mentions of food & drinks, talk of the previous relationship, massages (f. receiving), body worship, light nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), briefest hand job, protected sex, they're just very soft for each other, that's it, reader doesn't use gendered language but has female anatomy

a/n: thank you to the amazing @camandemstudios for hosting The Lonely Hearts Collab ❤️ make sure you check out all the amazing fics! this ended up much softer (and longer) than i thought it would, but i'm not mad at that. we all need soft hao for love day. i hope you enjoy it!

taglist: @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @tinkerbell460, @aidanjoon, @cookiearmy, @kaepjjangiya, @lostmembrane (join my svt taglist here)

Sometimes you think your life should come with one of those signs like they have in workplaces. You know, the ones that say how many days since the last accident? The ones that people always seem to use as memes? You think that might be appropriate in your case, too. Except, instead of days since the last accident, it would count days since you’d last seen your ex. The man who shattered your heart. The one you can’t seem to get over no matter how hard you try. 

Days since I last saw Minghao: 396

You’re not sure why your brain counts the number. Not sure why you can’t just put it out of your mind. Move on, for real this time. Of course, that’s not the same number as the days since he broke your heart. No. Unfortunately, you’ve run into him a couple of times since then, despite him moving away. A consequence of you still having a number of friends in common. And you can’t even blame them for keeping in touch with him. He didn’t really do anything wrong. Not to them and not even really to you. The two of you just…grew apart. 

Thinking back on it, even years later, you still can’t really pinpoint where it all went wrong. You remember falling for him, entirely too hard. Back when you didn’t think he took much notice of you. Always too absorbed in his latest project. You were friends, kind of. More on the periphery of each other's circles. Until you went to an art show with some mutual friends. Until you saw yourself in several of his works. None of your friends seemed all that surprised. They just let you have your little moment. 

It all happened kind of fast from there. You learned that Minghao wasn’t always one for showing his feelings in words, but he showed them in a million other ways, as long as you knew where to look. He showed them in the little things he did to make your life easier. In the way he incorporated you into his art, sometimes without it even being obvious. In the way he quietly made space for you in his life. 

Things were great, until they weren’t. And it still feels sudden all these years later. Even if it maybe, possibly, wasn’t sudden at all. 

You remember finding a new job. The kind of job you never thought you would land. The kind that Minghao instantly encouraged you to follow. Except it meant much more normal hours where Minghao kept weird hours. Sometimes he wouldn’t come to bed until the sun rose and other times he had been at work for hours when you woke up. Something about inspiration and lighting and just letting it all come together. Neither of you notice when it starts getting harder to make time for each other. At least, you didn’t notice. Only focusing on making the most of the time you do have. 

So, when Minghao tells you that he thinks you need to talk, you’re completely caught off guard. Haven’t seen all the signs that may have been there. He tells you he’s got the opportunity of a lifetime to further his career and it means he’s going to be leaving your city. Leaving the country entirely. Tells you that it’s been great and he still loves you, but he’s got to do this. Tells you that he thinks it’ll be right for both of you because you’ve been growing apart, haven’t you? You’ve both been prioritizing other things like work and friends over each other. He’s going to take this chance and he hopes you’ll understand. 

Maybe you do actually remember it falling apart after all. 

But, it’s time to cast aside your walk down memory lane. Time to leave everything behind in the old year and get ready to ring in a new one. A feat you tried last year as well and seemingly didn’t succeed at. This is the year, though. New year, new me and all that. You take one last look at your outfit before rushing out the door. Your slightly eccentric (and totally loaded) neighbors are having a party up in the penthouse of your apartment building. And even though you normally hate anyone with that kind of money, they’re actually cool and incredibly kind. They go out of their way to understand their privilege and involve themselves directly in charity. You can’t even hate that they’re barely older than you and have it all. Plus, who are you to turn down a party like this for the new year. 

The party is in full swing when you get there. Soyoon always does an excellent job of setting up a party, too. She makes sure there’s an area for people to dance and for people who want things a little quieter. And she always stocks up on top shelf drinks with so many snacks you could make an entire meal out of it. It only takes her a second before she’s waving you over. You weave through the people to get to her, so focused on your friend that you don’t notice anything else. Though you should. 

“Hey! You finally made it!” she says and pulls you into a hug. 

“Worrying I wouldn’t show?” you joke back. 

“No,” she says, smiling her megawatt smile. She indicates to someone. “I wanted you to meet your new neighbor I mentioned, the artist…”

Something drops in your stomach when you register that she says artist and you slowly turn to see the person she’s indicating. Hoping against all hope that you don’t recognize them. Instead, you see the lean figure of someone you know well. Dressed all in black and still looking like one of the most fashionable in the room. The black also works well to offset his blond mullet. It’s not a color you’ve seen on him before, but you’d know him anywhere. 

Days since I last saw Minghao: 396 0

Fuck. 

“Minghao,” you say softly, immediately kicking yourself for the way it comes out. 

“Yeah, oh. I thought you hadn’t met yet,” Soyoon says with a slight frown of confusion. 

Minghao is quick to answer, casual as can be. “I hadn’t run into her yet but we knew each other once, years ago.”

“Oh, how fun! Shall I leave you two to catch up?” she asks. 

You say no just as Minghao says yes. Soyoon looks confused, but ends up leaving the two of you alone anyway. It’s the last thing you want and there’s nowhere to go. At this rate, you’re going to get a much different start to your year. 

When you wake up well into the first morning of the New Year, your brain feels a little fuzzy. Not hungover though, so you can thank past you for that. You cannot thank past you for anything else. Not when the night before comes rushing back to you and you remember. Remember kissing Minghao, not just at midnight. Remember admitting that you still think about him. Remember wondering if he was single. Don’t remember asking him why he’s back now and without a word to you. Not that he owes it to you. It’s been years, after all. You just can’t believe that the mysterious new resident two doors down from you is none other than the ex you can’t seem to forget. 

Thankfully New Year’s Day is really about recovering from the night before and getting ready to face the rest of the year. It also gives you time to figure out what you’re going to do about Minghao. You’re sure there’s something in there about second chances. About how people change as they grow. It’s not for you, though. The more time you spend thinking about the night before, the more you realize that things are better left alone. This isn’t some great sign to revisit a painful past. It’s a way of telling you that it’s okay to finally figure out a way to move forward in your life. 

You’re just going to ignore that the person you’re moving on from lives two doors down from you. Shouldn’t be a problem at all. 

As you’re considering what you want to do for food, the doorbell rings. You’re not expecting someone and your heart plunges a little. What if it’s Minghao stopping by to talk about the night before? You can’t exactly remember all of your conversation, so you’re not sure if there’s something else that you need to talk about. You’re not prepared for any of it. When you open the door, it’s not him. It’s just someone delivering from one of your favorite take-out places. 

“I didn’t order anything,” you say, confusion clear on your face. 

The delivery guy only shrugs and shows you his phone. It’s your name and address. “I just deliver the orders I get. The tip was nice, too.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” you say and accept the bag of food. 

You decide to eat it on your couch so that you can settle in and binge something truly awful on TV. As you ponder who could have sent it, you think about Soyoon and how she loves to do this kind of thing. Yes, that seems likely. You’ll have to send her your own little thank you and thank her in person the next time you see her. Sending a text wouldn’t do it because she always says that doesn’t feel as personal. Eccentric, but endlessly kind. She’s definitely the kind of person that would want to make sure her guests are taken care of after such a great party. All feels much more calm as you settle in and your mind stays firmly off Minghao. 

The whole idea of keeping your mind off Minghao works for a while. You see him around the building and he’s always perfectly polite, but never forces a conversation. Says hi in passing and smiles. That’s just kind of how he is. It’s not that he doesn’t have plenty to say, he just doesn’t chase after anyone for a chat. Doesn’t see the point in forcing something when both people aren’t interested. Honestly, it’s a bit disarming because as well as you knew him once, it’s not what you’re expecting. There are times when you even consider if you should strike up a conversation with him. At the very least, there are things left unsaid from New Year’s. Things you know that you should get out of the way. Especially when Soyoon asks for details on what’s going on and you’re not really sure how much to share. 

But, then life catches up with you, as it seems prone to do. Things pick up at work and you find that you’re back into your routine without a second thought. That’s always the thing about the new year. It starts and it’s kind of slim on holidays while you’re getting into it. It also seems unspoken that people just don’t take time off then. Not when so many take time off around the holidays. (Something you also did, taking off the two days after New Year’s so you wouldn’t have to go back for a short week. Best decision you’ve made in a long time.)

You blink and January fades into February. Your brain is somewhere else entirely when you rush into your favorite coffee shop by your office, running a little bit late because you’re heading in on the weekend. The shop is decorated for Valentine’s Day already, like it seems to be every year once the calendar hits February. Something in you fights rolling your eyes. It’s not that you hate the holiday, it’s just that you’re a little bitter for another one spent without a partner. As much as you may say it doesn’t matter, it feels like it would be nice to have someone. Even if all you did was stay in to have a nice meal or play a game or watch something on TV. Just a moment for the two of you in the midst of all the chaos. When the barista asks for your order, you shake away the thoughts and give it, pulling your phone out to tap and pay.

“Oh, it’s covered,” she says and your brow furrows. 

“What?” you ask.

“Someone already covered your order today,” she repeats.

“But how did…” you start to ask under your breath and trail off. 

“Did you need anything else?” she asks brightly. 

“No, I guess not,” you say and put away your phone.

As you head down to wait for your order, your brain whirs into action. Who is out here just somehow paying for your order? You cast your eyes around the shop and nobody looks familiar. Well, a few people do in that way that regulars stick out when you’re also a regular. Nobody seems to be paying attention to you, though, or giving you any indication that they paid for your order. It shows up on the counter before you can think any further about it. 

The rest of the week goes in a similar fashion. Your coffee order is taken care of any time you stop in and the barista only smiles when you ask her who’s doing it. The only answer she gives is that you’ll realize it if you think about it. Not entirely helpful. At work, you get a surprise lunch just as you’re on the verge of a breakdown over a project. Mingyu, one of your closest friends even outside of work, offers lunch as a break and you take it without question. After all, the two of you were friends before becoming coworkers so it’s not unexpected that he would realize you’re feeling burnt out. Another of your friends asks you to go with him to a show you’ve been wanting to see and won’t even let you pay him back for the ticket. There are other little things, too. Things that you wouldn’t normally notice, but it’s like everything is going your way. It makes you a little wary. Mostly, though, it just makes you grateful. It feels like such a good way to start the year.

It isn’t until the weekend that you finally put it all together. Saturday morning comes and you let yourself sleep in after being out a little later the night before to go to the show. There’s an unexpected knock at the door that gives you a little deja vu back to New Year’s Day. You yawn and stretch as you get out of bed and head to the door. This time, there’s no delivery person waiting for you. There’s just a basket, clearly put together very thoughtfully. You bring it inside and start to look through what’s in there. A calming tea. A bath bomb. Some chocolates. A candle. A book that you've never heard of and somehow know you’re going to love. It’s the perfect kit to have the best and most relaxing day. 

And that’s when it hits you. The coffee, the lunch, the show, all the little surprises. It’s all coming from one person. The one person who likes to let his actions speak louder than his words. The one person who clearly hasn’t just been letting you be since the party. This is Minghao all over. You’re a little surprised at how easily the realization clicks into place. Also a little surprised that it didn’t click sooner. Maybe you had forgotten more about him than you thought. Maybe he wasn’t the only person taking up residence in your mind anymore. 

There’s a lot to think about and you figure that you’ll use the time taking a bath to do just that. Well, you shower first to make sure you’re clean and because you didn’t do it after getting home the night before. But then, you’re ready to relax in the bath and just let your mind wander. Hope you’ll end up coming to a decision about what you want to do. There’s so much history. So many nights spent trying to figure out how things might have gone differently. Until it clicks. Minghao was right back then. You both needed that space. Needed the separation to go off and figure yourselves out. Needed to learn who you were as an adult before you could learn to make space for another person. When he left, it cleared a path for you to take chances you never would have otherwise. Maybe it did the same for him. 

That’s how you find yourself outside his door after the bath, the tea in hand because you know that it’s a brand he loves. Or, at least, he did once upon a time. He opens the door too quickly for you to second guess if this is a good idea. Or to wonder if he’s even home. His eyes seem to sparkle at the sight of you and at the tea in your hands.

“You got my care package,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. 

“And figured out who was behind all those wonderful things this past week,” you admit, causing his smile to slip into a more genuine one.

“About time,” he says under his breath.

“Can I come in for a cup of tea?” you ask and he regards you for a moment. That’s always been the hardest part about being around Minghao. He has a way of looking at you and peeling back all the layers. It’s like being naked in front of him. And you’re not as comfortable in front of him as you were once upon a time. It makes you shift on your feet and cast your eyes down.

He steps aside and you let out a sigh of relief at the movement. “Come on in.” 

Stepping inside his apartment almost feels like stepping back in time. Everything about the decoration feels familiar. There are a few things that you do recognize but mostly it’s just because it’s so inescapably him. Everything has a place and it looks like it could be featured in a magazine. But, it’s better than that. Better because it feels lived in, like a home even though it is straight from some aesthetic moodboard. You turn back to him when you recognize a figure that you gave him years ago. It makes your heart constrict that he kept it all this time.

“Did you want to share that tea with me?” he asks, noting the box in your hands.

“Oh,” you say, a little startled back into the present. You look down at your hands and then back to him. “Yeah. Well, if you still like it, that is.” 

“I do, yes,” he says and accepts the box from your hands. “You can go sit down and I’ll bring the tea out in a minute.” 

It’s so impossibly normal and also one of the most abnormal things in the world. The contradictions are making your head hurt, so you just do as Minghao suggests. Sit down on the couch in the living room and sigh. This is the most comfortable couch in the world. That’s another thing you remember about him. Everything fits his aesthetic and it’s never at the expense of comfort. None of that unusable furniture for him. Without even thinking about it, you pick an art magazine off the table. It’s the only thing that seems out of place and there’s a sticky note attached to it with an advanced copy for you to look over scrawled on it. That’s when the cover catches your eye, previously covered in part by the note. Minghao looks back at you, surrounded by some of his artwork. It seems like it’s a profile on him. He must be doing even better than you realized. 

“I hated posing for that,” he says softly as he appears with two cups of tea. 

You start a little in surprise at hearing his voice and drop the magazine back on the table. “I didn’t mean to…”

“There’s no need to be scared,” he says with a low chuckle as you accept the cup. “You can read it if you’d like.” 

“It seems like things are going well for you,” you comment, looking back at the magazine.

“Professionally, sure. Although I’m finding creating a little more difficult lately,” he says and you look at him. 

“Why’s that?” you ask and then shake your head.

“What?” he asks.

“We’re just…talking like no time has passed,” you say.

“I guess I thought that after that party and sending you the food the next day like we…” he starts.

“That was from you?” you ask, clearly surprised.

“Would…what?” he asks, shifting mid thought. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you sure?” you ask with a laugh.

“No, I’m sure. I just thought…well, we talked about it that night,” he says.

“I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I don’t remember exactly what we said that night,” you say and look down.

“Ah,” he says. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Well, I figured we’d talk about everything when there weren’t people around and we could have time to ourselves. Then, I sent the food and just never heard from you,” he says. 

“You could have said something,” you tell him.

“I’m not always very good at that, the saying something part,” he says.

“You’re great at taking care of things I need, though. Everything the past week or so has been so thoughtful,” you say. 

“I know I should have talked to you. I just didn’t know how to start the conversation,” he admits. 

“It’s been a long time,” you say. 

Just as an awkward silence is about to fall over you, Minghao turns to face you. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” 

“Before we go down a path of talking about everything that happened back then and about how much I miss you now, do you think it’s worth it?”

You consider that for a long moment and miss the way Minghao seems to hold his breath. Miss the way he searches your face for a sign of the answer before you give it. Don’t realize how many ways your face has changed in the years since he really knew you. When you meet his eyes, you finally see that he looks unsure. All you can do at first is nod. 

“Is that a yes?” 

You take a deep breath. Ready yourself to jump in with both feet. “I think it’s at least worth having a conversation, yeah.” 

And so that’s what you do. You sit down and talk about all the things you wish you had said back when he left. All the things you could have done differently. All the ways you’ve changed since then. It feels good to say all the things that you’ve kept to yourself over the years. There’s something very open and honest about the way you talk. Somehow even more honest than back when you were in a relationship. Maybe because there’s no fear about the other person’s reaction or feelings. Or maybe it’s just because you’re much more mature now than you were back then. You’re not really sure. Not really sure it matters either. 

This is probably the most you’ve ever heard Minghao say at once. He even admits it’s because he knows that he’s going to have to do things that make him a little uncomfortable if he wants you to consider trying again. He’s also very understanding as he listens to everything. Not defensive when you point out how things could have gone differently. And you know you can’t be defensive when he points out the things you could have done, either. After all this time, you finally realize that it was very much both of you responsible for the way the relationship ended. Yes, Minghao’s the one that accepted a position that would take him far away from you. He’s the one that suggested that maybe the relationship needed to end. But, you also had your role in all of it. You also have to acknowledge that you got distant. Prioritizing other things in your life over him. No longer able to communicate as effectively as you had earlier in the relationship. Both of you had been growing at different rates and in different directions. 

Now, years later, you can realize that it’s something both of you needed. You had to separate to grow in ways you couldn’t do together. Had to be alone to learn the hard lessons, the scary things. To understand what you need and what you want and when to compromise. You’re no longer wearing the rose colored glasses of your early 20s. 

“So, what now?” he asks. 

“What do you want?” you ask and he sighs a little. “I know, I can’t make you be the only one to talk.”

“I want to know if you still have any space for me in your life and…” he says, but trails off.

“In my heart?” you guess.

“Yeah,” he admits softly.

It’s another crossroads. One of those moments you’ll look back on. You know that you need to be a little brave. “I never really got over you. Not fully.”

Minghao’s face brightens at that and he meets your eye with your favorite smile. The soft one that you always felt like belonged only to you. “Me either. I’ve lived all over the world since we broke up and I still get my best inspiration from you.”

That one sentence pushes all the air out of your lungs. Has you entirely speechless. You hold out your hand and he intertwines his fingers through yours without a word. “So we try?” 

“We try,” he agrees. 

Trying is both intimidating and the most comforting thing in the world at the same time. A weird duality just like the man you fell in love with all those years ago. Going on a date with someone that you dated for years and then broke up with years ago is like starting well into the relationship. There are all sorts of things that you already know about each other. Yet, there are also things you can’t assume. Things you may have known once may not be true anymore. Or it’s possible that you remember something that wasn’t true at all, even then. 

So, you start with the most obvious date night activity: dinner. It gives you something to do without being too distracting from a conversation. Minghao surprises you a bit, too. He’s somehow more thoughtful and more open all at once. He still doesn’t always know how to say what he wants to all the time, but he’s trying harder to get his thoughts out. You’re also trying much harder to meet him where he is rather than expecting something that just isn’t who he is. Another byproduct of how much the two of you have grown in your time apart. You can appreciate how well the two of you fit together now. Can appreciate how your individual strengths complement each other. 

After dinner, Minghao starts to suggest going back to the apartment building. You have another suggestion, though. There’s this Art After Dark event that the local art museum runs on the second Saturday of every month that you’ve wanted to check out. Life has been too busy until now. And you also can admit that some part of going felt a little difficult. What if you saw something that Minghao created? Or something that reminded you of him? Or what if there was just a piece of art that you couldn’t understand? You’ve always appreciated the beauty in creation, but some things just went over your head. 

The suggestion makes Minghao’s face light up. He’s heard of the event and somehow hasn’t been since moving back. Not that he’s been back all that long. Still, it’s nice to know that you’ll be able to experience something that’s meaningful to him for the first time. 

The drive over is quiet, mostly only filled with the sounds of the playlist Minghao picked. It’s not uncomfortable, though, far from it. You’re thinking of how easy it is being in his presence again, especially given how long you spent thinking you needed to avoid him. In the passenger seat, Minghao scrolls what looks like the website for the museum. Probably seeing what installations are there currently on display. Or what special events they have for the evening. Either way, you’re happy to let him prepare before getting there. It’ll only help you on top of it because he’ll be able to walk you through everything. (If you think about how pretty his profile looks in the low light, then that’s your business.)

Once you get there, you insist on covering the admission because Minghao paid for dinner without giving you the chance to even offer. It’s nowhere near even, but it’s the least you can do for now. They also check your IDs on the way in because there’s an open bar, apparently. You each grab a drink off of the tray going around and then head into the first room. Live music drifts softly through from somewhere you can’t see. It adds something nice. Something that makes the whole setting somehow more intimate when combined with it being less busy than during normal hours. Minghao doesn’t wait for you to ask him to lead the way, he just knows. You follow close to him, not quite brushing your arm against him. 

This has always been one of your favorite things about Minghao. Watching him at a museum or an art gallery is just special. He walks through and talks about the different artists, the influences, and the history. He can tell you about different periods of an artist’s life and why they might have created the way that they did. There is so much living in his brain that it puts the plaques with each piece of art to shame. Occasionally, you notice someone standing in the area stop and listen to the way he speaks about a piece. It’s endearing to watch him when he’s passionate. Somehow softer and less guarded. Some people might find it sexy, and you do as well. It’s just that you find him cute first. There’s nothing about him that sounds like he’s bragging or talking down about his knowledge. Minghao has always believed that art should be accessible to everyone. That it’s a gift for all people to enjoy. When he speaks about it, that comes across. It’s something familiar, something you’re glad is the same. 

Minghao always wants to know the pieces you’re most drawn to. He wants to let you walk into some of the rooms first so he can watch you experience the art for the first time. Wants to know if you’re drawn to the pieces that he expects. You are, mostly. Usually, you wouldn’t want this much attention on you, especially in a place that isn’t your normal comfort zone. But, Minghao makes you feel at ease. At least, until he starts talking about which pieces of art remind him of you and why. It makes you turn away a little to hide the way your cheeks flush. It just feels so intimate. Feels like he’s baring his soul. Feels like too much for someone who’s been a stranger to you for years. Although, can you really say he’s a stranger? Yes, things change. People grow. You and him have certainly both grown. Maybe you’ve grown into the people you both imagined you’d be back when you figured you had the rest of forever together. 

It’s not until the last room of the museum that you realize Minghao picked the path deliberately. He motions for you to go ahead of him and you assume it’s just so he can see your reactions to the art, like he has in other rooms. And it is, in a way. Just not for the same reason as any other room. Your attention immediately falls on a piece you recognize immediately. Not because you’ve seen it before. It’s because it’s you. Or, you should say that you know it’s meant to be you. It’s that same style of abstract art that you know belongs to Minghao. The same style that feels as familiar as if it was a polaroid of you. That’s not why it takes your breath away. It’s the fact that he must have painted it after you broke up because you haven’t ever seen it before. And here it is, hanging as part of a long term installment in the museum less than 20 minutes from your apartment 

“You knew this was here,” you say. 

“I had to double check,” he says softly as he follows you. Your feet bring you right to the piece without any other thought. 

Minghao uses art as an expression. Says it’s easier for him to convey the hard things that way, like so many artists seem to. Says he’s not good with words, could never be the kind of creative that writes poems or novels with long scenes expressing intense emotions. It’s so clear looking at his art that he doesn’t need to. So clear that his work is the reason people say a picture is worth a thousand words. You think you could have ten thousand words and still need more with this piece. And most of his pieces, honestly. You yearn to reach out and run your fingers along the canvas, to trace the lines that he uses. Instead, you take in each color and each stroke. It causes conversations from when you were both younger to come flooding back. You remember lying in bed and listening to him talk about his process. About when he brought something to the foreground versus leaving it in the back. About the choice to use a vibrant palette or something more muted and neutral. About how he could play with the different colors to express each emotion. In saying all of that, you remember hearing what he couldn’t say. It’s funny, in hindsight, to think about how Minghao always said he struggled with emotions. He just says what he needs to in a different way.

His feelings are crystal clear to you in this piece. The representation of you is front and center. The first thing your eye lands on when you look at it. Everything else is in the background. Like he’s saying that you’re the center of the universe in this piece. The colors tell you just as much. They’re rich with his affection. With tenderness and forgiveness. With yearning. Like a hand reaching out to pull you in. You even think he might have put a version of himself in the background, muted to throw you into sharper relief. It’s beautiful and passionate and incredibly raw. You may need to know him to see the last bit. It’s only then that you see the date on the piece. Just over a year ago, probably after you had seen him the last time before he popped up at the party in your building. 

Finally, you turn to him and find his eyes on you. Studying you, looking for answers before you give them again. And you see the nerves there. He’s grown so much, but he knows you have too. Doesn’t presume to know everything about you anymore. Your mouth curves into the most genuine smile. “It’s amazing, Hao. I don’t even know what to say.” 

“You like it?” he asks, a little less sure of himself than you’re used to. 

“I love it,” you assure him and turn back to it. “It might be one of the most expressive pieces of yours I’ve ever seen.” 

“I know I shouldn’t have been drawing inspiration from you, but I couldn’t stop myself after I saw you that time a year ago,” he says, confirming what you thought. “I was halfway through the painting before I realized it.” 

“No matter what, I will always be honored to inspire you.” 

“That’s a relief.” 

“You know, you’re much better at expressing your feelings than you think,” you tell him, looking over to see his reaction. His face is soft. 

“Only if you remember how to read it,” he says. 

“It’s all coming back to me,” you say and delight in the way he smiles. 

Minghao is a study in contrasts. He’s every bit of what you think about when thinking of an artist. Introverted, intelligent in a way not everyone can appreciate, thoughtful, sometimes a little intimidating to approach. If you don’t know him, he could seem cold or detached. When you do know him, though, he’s anything but cold. Certainly not intimidating. Although he can be guarded, he’s an open book to the people closest to him. He’s incredibly soft and caring. Willing to let all his defenses fall away for the right person. 

He takes hold of your hand, even though he’s not always one to seek out physical touch in that way. Not in public. “I want to give this another try. We’ve both grown a lot over the past years. You don’t have to make a decision now. All I want to know now is if you’ll be my Valentine.”

The way he says it doesn’t really sound like a question. It’s also infinitely more direct than you’re used to. You can’t help the teasing look. “That’s so corny.” 

The smile you get in response is worth it. Minghao only shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s worth it.”

“Yes, Hao, I would love to be your Valentine,” you say, fighting a bit of the urge to say that you’ll just be his again. 

Even though you know that rushing back into something is the last thing you need to do, you’re still excited. Feel lighter than you have in ages. It’s kind of like autopilot for the rest of the time you spend at the museum. And if it’s the best date you’ve been on in years, well that’s your business. It’s also your business if you get back to your apartment that night and think about all the things that happened that day.

Sunday dawns and the first thought in your mind is Minghao. Not exactly surprising after spending a whole day with him instead of continuing to avoid him. Yet, it’s not quite what you’re expecting, either. After years of protecting your heart, it shouldn’t be this easy to open up to him again. That thought does make you pause, just for a second. Then, you think about all the things you managed to cover just in one day together. There’s still plenty to talk about, but you can’t deny the obvious. You’re both so willing to be open and vulnerable. Willing to accept your faults to make sure things are different if you give it another shot. There’s definitely something to be said that he’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up. (And the last thing you thought about before falling asleep.)

It’s time to do things differently. Time to not overthink everything. You’re older and wiser now. Feel like you can trust your gut and the vibes now with more life experience. Instead of giving yourself time to second guess, you send a text to Minghao to ask if he wants to come over. It’s one of those catch up days. You need to grocery shop and run some errands, do some laundry, and do a little cleaning. Minghao loves quality time, something still true now. It’s nothing exciting, though, and you give him plenty of space to say no without it being an issue. All he asks is what time he should come over and if he should eat breakfast first. 

Which is exactly how he ends up at your apartment barely 20 minutes later.

Plenty changes and just as much stays the same. Minghao can cook, he never starves. It’s just not his favorite thing to do if left to his own devices. You offer to make him breakfast if he’s going to keep you company during a bunch of errands. While you cook, he keeps himself busy making tea for himself and coffee for you. Doesn’t have to ask how you like it since he covered your coffees for the past week at the shop by your work. Since Minghao likes acts of service just as much as quality time, he empties your dishwasher while you’re finishing up breakfast and tidies up around the kitchen behind you. There’s so much comfort in falling into patterns like that, even though it feels entirely different than before. 

Breakfast passes quickly and Minghao helps motivate you out the door. Points out the sooner you get things out of the way, the sooner you can come back and relax. You’re not shy in telling him that he makes an excellent point. The praise falls easily from your lips and you delight in the way it causes him to smile shyly. Some things really never change and you’ll never tire of pulling that out of him. 

Several hours later, you’re done with all your errands (in record time, no less, even though you took care of getting things for him as well). Back at your apartment, Minghao unloads your groceries for you along with the light lunch he insisted that you pick up. It should be scary to see him making himself at home in your life again. It’s not, though. It just fills you with an endless amount of warmth. You can’t help the way your heart flutters at him setting your food out on the table and calling for you to come join him before it’s back to checking things off your little list for the day. He just seems so comfortable helping you and sharing in your space. Content to let you set the pace and clearly pleased you texted to invite him over. 

After lunch, Minghao shoos you off to get your laundry started while he tidies up in the kitchen and living area. He’s not a clean freak by any stretch. Although he does like for everything to be in its place. You know he’s only doing it now to help you because he doesn’t mind. The warmth is going to be too much at this rate. You let yourself have hearts in your eyes over him for a second before disappearing into your bedroom to gather your laundry. 

Once you have your clothes in the washing machine, Minghao says he needs to get something from his apartment and returns with his sketch pad. He’s got a few ideas that he wants to plan out and hopes it’s fine to do with in your living room. You agree as long as he doesn’t mind you rotting away with your TV obsession of the moment. It’s in those quiet moments that you get the most answers. The comfort of being in a space with him, not saying much and yet knowing you could. Sometimes you feel like you have to fill a silence to avoid any awkward pauses. There’s this sense of anxiety about what the other person is thinking, even if you know it’s probably not about you. It’s not the case with him. Which tells you all you really need to know, doesn’t it? No matter how hard you’ve tried over the years to find someone else, to date and have it something more, it’s never been like this with anyone but him. 

You’re scared of what comes next. Scared of being hurt. Yet, this feels like one of those chances you just have to take.

The next week goes something like the weekend. You spend a lot of your free time with Minghao. Sharing all the things that have happened over the years. It’s easy to talk about shared friends or new ones. Not quite as easy to talk about all the work updates, though it feels just as important. The two of you stay up late having hard conversations in the quiet hours of the night. Talking about everything that’s different. Neither of you even shy away from past relationships. It doesn’t even feel that difficult. You both had lives since you broke up and those lives shaped you into these people now. Twice, he even shows up for lunch to get you out of the building for a break. The looks from your coworkers are both knowing and happy. Everything feels like it’s going toward the obvious conclusion. 

Somewhere in between all the time spent with Minghao, you also carve out time for dinner with your best friend. Need to carve out the time, you think, to get her opinion. She’s been with you since just before the relationship ended. Even though you know that you can make decisions for yourself, it feels important to get an outside perspective. The last thing you want is to rush back into something and end up in the same place as the first time. If nothing else, you know she’ll ask you the difficult questions to make you think. Make you answer if you’ve really thought out what a second chance for the two of you looks like. If you’re doing this because you want this now, in 2025, for if you’re just holding onto a past that felt comfortable. It can be easy to just stay in a bubble without considering what that looks like when the bubble breaks. When you have to go exist together in public or with friends, not just in your own little world.

She does all those things and is adamant: this isn’t like before. Tells you that you don’t need her to tell you what you already know. Instead of justifying everything that happened years ago, you acknowledge. You don’t make excuses because there aren’t any to make. Sometimes things don’t work. You and Minghao are different people now than you were years ago. Somehow, against all odds, you’ve grown into different people that have even better compatibility than you did when you were younger. As cliche as it is, he seems like your right person at the wrong time and the universe is telling you to hit the replay button now. It’s all the confirmation you need. You’re going to dive in and feel confident he’ll be there to catch you. 

By the time Valentine’s Day comes around, you’re both completely at peace and nervous for the date itself. It’s been the theme of the last week. Another set of contrasts that somehow work. You trust Minghao, more than you expect. But, you haven’t had a date for Valentine’s since just after you and him broke up. And it was a disaster. So, you’re trying not to set your hopes to an unrealistic level. 

But, he quickly proves that you don’t have anything to worry about. Before work, he shows up with flowers, coffee, and a pastry from a shop nearby. It’s really difficult not to just call out from work and spend the day with him. Admitting that makes him laugh and press a gentle kiss to your temple. It’s so sweet that you want to melt. Sadly, you have to go to work and he’s got two different meetings that he can’t miss, one with a museum curator and another with a prospective client. So, he’ll see you after work as planned. 

Work seems to drag and more than once, you consider leaving early. Probably would too if Minghao hadn’t been adamant that you couldn’t come by his place until after work. It makes you pout a little, which, in turn, makes Mingyu laugh at you when he stops by your desk. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to avoid bringing up Minghao anymore since they’ve been in touch the whole time. You’re so happy looking forward to the date that you can’t even get mad at your friend. Besides, it can’t have been an easy spot to be in all this time. 

Minghao takes your breath away when you actually show up after work. 

After quickly changing out of work clothes, you’re on his doorstep, waiting for him to answer. The second you step inside, you see why he had you wait. He’s decorated the entire space in a way he knows you’ll love. All your favorite colors and little things that are cheesy, but also adorable. There are also several paintings, both old and newer, that you know you inspired displayed around the living area. It feels like the perfect space to celebrate with him. All you can do is wrap your arms around him. He’s quick to pull you tight against him. There’s so much emotion. 

“The food is already on the way,” he says when you pull away from him. “Thank you for paying, even though you didn’t need to.” 

“You’ve been paying for everything. It’s my turn,” you say and smile, looking around his apartment. “And thank you for this. I know it’s not usually your style.”

“You like it. That’s all that matters,” he says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

“Can I say something that’s maybe too honest?” you ask.

Minghao’s gaze on you is soft. “To me? Always.”

“I do like it, but I think I would like anything because I just like you. A lot more than I realized,” you say and watch him. Every part of you wants to look away. You already feel naked with his gaze on you when you’re not confessing to your feelings. 

Minghao reaches for your hand to pull you into him again. Lets the silence settle around you for a moment. He speaks without releasing you. “That’s good because I’m very much in love with you. So I’m glad you like me so much.”

That makes you pull away, eyes wide. “You’re in love with me? You’re sure?” 

“Does that scare you?” he asks, studying your face the same way he studies his favorite artwork.

The answer is on the tip of your tongue before you even realize it. “No.” 

“You don’t have to know yet. You don’t have to love me back at all if it’s not right for you. But, I’m sure. It’s always been you for me and it’s always going to be you for me. I’m not going to waste a second chance by not telling you how I feel.” 

It’s overwhelming in so many ways. The Minghao you loved years ago couldn’t express himself this easily. It was you that had to be good at using your words and interpreting him through actions. At the time, you thought it was fine. Now, seeing him be strong for both of you, you realize that sometimes it’s nice to hear exactly what he’s thinking. It’s nice to just know without having to read his actions. It’s also his way of showing you that things are different. That he’s going to be the partner you need and he’s going to make sure both of you are the best versions of yourself. Somehow that simple statement, along with everything he’s done the past week, are the final piece. You know this is going to be a partnership and you know you’re in it. Whatever happens, happens. 

Dinner passes quickly and the food is great, like you know it will be. It’s also nice not to have to cook or clean anything up. Even nicer to have the space to enjoy each other’s company without going out to dinner like every other couple for the holiday. And Minghao clearly enjoyed setting his table just right for the two of you. After dinner, you suggest watching something. Minghao lets you pick and the two of you settle onto his couch. Without overthinking it, you adjust to put your legs over his lap. He lets you get comfortable before putting his own hands back down and absently tracing patterns into the fabric of your pants. For a fleeting moment, you imagine him using your body as a canvas. Shaking your head to clear the thought, you focus back on the TV.

After a while, you start to feel a little uncomfortable. Not with your legs in Minghao’s laps. That’s providing a lot of comfort. You’re stretching out your neck and rolling your shoulders without realizing it. It’s been a long week at work with too much time hunched over a computer. 

“Do you want a massage?” Minghao asks, interrupting the show. You look over at him with raised eyebrows. “You keep rubbing your neck and rolling your shoulders.”

“Of course you noticed,” you say with a chuckle. 

“Maybe a massage would help,” he offers again. 

You bite your lip in consideration. You haven’t so much as kissed Minghao since you started to spend time together again (since you’re ignoring any drunk kiss that happened at Soyoon’s party for New Year’s Eve). It’s only been a kiss to the cheek here or a temple kiss there. This is definitely more than that. You want to go slow, but you also miss the way he feels. You remember the massages after long nights of studying. 

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you say. 

The warmth in his eyes when you agree is familiar. Older and wiser, sure, but still familiar. He gets up off the couch and reaches a hand to you. “Come on, let’s go into the bedroom so it’s more comfortable.”

You place your hand into his and follow him. It’s the first time you’ve seen his bedroom and it’s so simple. A few pieces of his art sit in the corner. For the most part, you can tell he only uses the space to sleep.

“I’m going to get some lotion. You can get settled,” he says and places a soft kiss on your temple. 

Once he disappears, you make a decision. You remove your shirt and bra so that your back is bare when you lay down on his bed. You settle on the bed with your head up by the pillow so that you can collect part of his sheet around your chest. It’s a little awkward, being half-naked and wondering how to position yourself. It only takes Minghao a few moments before he’s coming back through the bedroom door. His breath catches when he sees you. 

“I hope this is okay,” you say, carefully turning to look at him. “My shoulders and neck are so tense that I wanted you to be able to reach them easily.”

He gathers himself quickly and crosses over to his bed. Sits down next to your hip and runs a hand gently across your back. Like he’s testing if you’re actually there. “As long as you’re comfortable, then I’m happy.” 

“I am, yeah,” you say softly. 

“Okay, then let me take care of you,” he says, just as soft.

Without another word, he moves to straddle your body, using his knees on either side of you to hold the majority of his weight. Gently, he brushes your hair off your neck and over to the side. It’s enough to make you sigh and close your eyes. You hear him open the lotion to put some into his hands. Always so thoughtful, he warms it before putting his hands on your back. He starts just below your shoulders and works his way up, feeling for knots and increasing the pressure as needed. Barely a minute passes and you already feel like you could melt into his mattress. It’s definitely not just the release of tension that has you so comfortable that you could drift into sleep. No, it’s the person with his hands on you. It’s the care he shows with each movement. 

Before long, you really are drifting in between the land of being fully awake and asleep. It’s not that you could fall asleep on him. You still feel each movement. You’re just incredibly relaxed. Each of your muscles melt under the gentle touch of his nimble fingers. Even when he digs into a knot, it still feels relaxing. Professionals should be thankful that he took up art instead because he could put them all to shame. Though, admittedly, you’re biased. And you haven’t ever found the thought of a stranger massaging you to be that relaxing. There’s always the initial awkwardness before settling in. None of that happens with the person you know you trust more than yourself. 

He bends down to your ear and his breath alerts you before he says anything. “Going to fall asleep on me, sweetheart?”

His tone is light, almost teasing. It’s also confident, but not in the cocky way. He’s proud of the way he can relax you so easily. Your brain is a little foggy and maybe that’s also a good thing. You turn towards his voice and wind your arm up so that you can place a hand on the back of his head. His eyes aren’t just filled with warmth when they meet yours anymore. There’s desire there now, too, the same desire building within you. You pull him towards you and kiss him. Slow, almost lazy, at first. It quickly deepens into something more. 

It’s an awkward position, though. Minghao moves off of your back and you take the chance to also reposition, turning over and sitting up. There’s no awkwardness anymore and you don’t bother pulling the sheet with you when you face him. He takes a second to drink you in. Swallows hard as his eyes travel over your chest. In the next moment, he pulls you toward him so that he can kiss you again. You position your legs on either side of his hips to allow you to press tight against him. His kiss is urgent, tongue tangling with your own as the two of you meld into one. You wind one of your hands into his hair, only playing with the ends of it at first, wrapping pieces around your fingers. 

Minghao pulls back like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Both of your chests rise and fall quickly to catch your breath. “Are you sure?”

“That I want this?” you clarify.

“That you want this with me,” he says, still a little breathless. 

“Yes,” you say. 

“Are you really sure?” he asks again. He’s checking for consent and also giving you an out.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you confirm. 

You think that he’s leaning back in so that he can kiss you again. Until he uses a hand to tilt your head to one side and kisses along your jaw. He carries his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. Like he’s mapping every inch of your body. Committing it to memory or maybe making up for the lost years. When you were younger, you found it difficult to accept this kind of attention. Always worrying there was some kind of imbalance. Now, all you can do is moan out your appreciation for the way Minghao worships every inch of your skin. You’re not in a rush and he’s clearly not either. You run your hands through his hair, allowing your nails to scrape lightly against his scalp and shudder at the way he moans into your skin. Do it again just to feel the way his lips vibrate. 

His hands find their way to your hips and he grips hard. Anchoring you in place and also checking to make sure it’s all real. That it’s all happening. That none of this is another one of his dreams. Every time you run your nails along his scalp, it’s a reminder that it is happening. That the two of you really have found your way back to something. In that moment, he knows that he’ll risk his heart to not spend the rest of his life wondering what could have happened. Be vulnerable now and hope it’ll work out. 

Spurred on by the soft sounds falling from your lips, Minghao moves from your collarbones down to the hollow between your breasts. You arch into his mouth and dig into his scalp, just for a second. It’s the only thing he needs to feel. Quickly, he moves his mouth over to your nipple, taking it into his mouth. Swirling around it and nipping it lightly. He moves one of his hands from your hip to take the other nipple between his fingers. Can’t have either feeling left out. It’s embarrassing how much it turns you on, like you’re some kind of horny teenager. His fingers are so nimble, so intentional in the way they tease you that you can’t help it. He swaps his mouth to your other nipple, replacing his fingers. You’re not sure what you want more.

This time, you pull back. Still kind of breathing shallowly even though you hadn’t been kissing him. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, and a little concerned. You’re quick to reassure him, hands moving to the hem of his shirt. “Can I? I don’t want to be the only half naked one anymore?”

“Of course,” he says with a smile. 

You pull the shirt up and over his head, thankful that he’s not overdressed to make it more complicated. For a second, the sight of him renders you speechless. Gently, you run your finger along his chest and down the muscles of his stomach that weren’t there when you dated him last time. The way he shudders under your touch only spurs you on. There’s a scar along his side that you don’t remember. It’s smooth to the touch, just slightly raised.

“Beautiful,” you whisper confidently. 

He can’t stand it anymore. He takes your face in his hands and pulls you into him. Kisses you again, slowly but with so much intensity that it makes your heart skip several beats. You still fit in with him like you were made for each other. He uses the kiss to shift both of your bodies and disentangle your legs. Dips you backwards until your head hits the pillow without his lips leaving yours. Once you’re lying back, though, he breaks the kiss again. Resumes kissing down your body. Makes sure to kiss away any insecurities in the process. Whispers praise into your skin that feel like a salve. This is Minghao, your Minghao. You’re safe with him. Loved. Cherished. Supported. It’s overwhelming to feel all of that come rushing back after years spent apart looking for it in someone else. Of course it’s always been him. 

Normally you’re somewhat ticklish, and you do have to fight a little nervous laugh as he kisses down your stomach, especially when his face is so close that you can feel his eyelashes against your skin. But, there really isn’t anything funny about this. Not when Minghao looks up at you while kissing your body. Seems to be mapping your reactions just as much as your skin. He pauses with his hands on your pants, silently asking for permission. Checking in to make sure that you’re still okay with this. You nod and he kisses your stomach again before unbuttoning your pants. Pulls your pants and underwear down in one fluid motion. He takes a moment to appreciate you, laid out before him. Any remaining nerves disappear. You’ve never seen someone look at you with that much love in your life. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Until Minghao resumes kissing down your body and it’s a different kind of overwhelming. His breath ghosts across your core as he places slow, open mouthed kisses along your thighs. 

Nothing has really happened, but by the time he settles between your legs, you’re already worked up. Wound so tightly that you think he could have you coming with just a touch. You consider if that would be too fast for half a second before catching sight of Minghao. He looks up at you, hair falling into his eyes, and you don’t care what happens. Don’t care how fast anything happens because it’s him. Can hardly believe that this beautiful person wants to put your needs before his own. His eyes narrow like a siren, full of focus and desire, and it takes your breath away.

“I don’t want you to hold back,” he says. “I’ve been waiting years to taste you again.”

“You wha - fuck,” you hiss out. 

He effectively short circuits your brain with one move. He doesn’t bother teasing you, just goes straight to licking into your wet cunt. Uses two fingers to spread your lips open so that he has better access. There’s no concern for building up to something. He wants to taste you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. When his nose hits your clit, it makes you groan out and snap your thighs around his face. His groan in response vibrates through your pussy. Makes him use his thumb to rub circles on your clit without slowing his speed licking into you. It’s entirely too overwhelming in the best way. In just moments, Minghao has you writhing underneath him, gripping onto anything within your reach. His hair. The sheets. The pillow. Anything. The tension builds entirely too fast and you’re not really ready for it to be over. Not ready to have it end. 

You’re not sure if he has the same thought or not, but Minghao pulls back to look at you. The moan at the sight of your wetness all over his lips and chin is immediate. Somehow it makes him even sexier and you can’t take your eyes off him. Can’t look away as he wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. With careful movements, he pulls himself up your body and lies next to you on his side to face you. Winds an arm under your neck. Places two of his fingers against your mouth and you suck them in without a thought. Swirl your tongue around his slender fingers with your eyes locked on his. Smile at the way it seems to be affecting him. With what looks like regret on his face, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and moves his hand down between your legs. Runs his middle finger up your still wet folds before inserting it. 

“Minghao, fuck, you can’t just…” you start, only to have your words cut off. 

You’re kissing again and it’s the most heated yet. The taste of you lingers on his lips. Seems to mark him as yours. You realize that maybe he’s not teasing you because he meant what he said. He’s been waiting too long for this to go slow with you. There’s plenty of time to slow down later. This is what both of you need now. He slides another finger into your pussy and pumps even faster. Doesn’t let you pull away from the kiss, catching every sound you make and adding his own sounds. The tension builds, even faster than before. In no time at all, you’re coming all over his fingers. Gasping for breath as you break the kiss and he gently pumps into you to guide you through the orgasm. 

When you can catch your breath, you look over at Minghao. Appreciate the way he just watches you. He gently brushes a piece of hair out of your face and then leans in for a soft kiss. You’re not letting him get away with that, though. Not now. Not when he just had you coming harder than you can remember in a long time. You knock the kiss up in intensity and he lets you lead. Lets you set the pace and meets every kiss with the exact right amount of pressure. Your hands are everywhere on him while you kiss, exploring all the lines and the muscles that feel a little foreign. The only obvious sign of the passage of time.

He pulls back just long enough so that he can pull his pants and briefs off. Doesn’t even look where he tosses them in the room. All he can think of is connecting his lips with yours again. About making up for all the years in between, even if you both know that you needed that time apart to find your way back. You wind your hand down between your bodies and grip his dick in your hand. Slowly run your thumb over the tip and find there’s already precum there. It fills you with so much satisfaction to know that he’s as turned on as you are. It’s a little diary, but you spit quickly in your hand. You run your hand up and down his cock a few times, twisting your fist around him. Checking to see what kind of pressure and speed he likes. 

“I just want…fuck, sweetheart,” he groans out as you run your thumb across his tip again.

“What do you want, Hao?” you ask, making your eyes as big and innocent as possible.

“I want to be inside you, want to feel you around me,” he says and your breath catches. “I don’t want to cum from a handjob like some teenager.”

“Fuck,” you say with a nod. “Yes, please, yes.”

He rolls away from you for a second to reach for his nightstand and returns with a condom and some lube. Rips the condom open with his teeth and then rolls it onto his cock. You’re about to ask him how he wants you when he pulls back and spreads your legs open. He looks at you as he lines himself up at your entrance. For a moment, he just looks at you. Then, he pours some of the lube onto the condom. Makes sure this is going to feel good for you.

“I want to watch you fall apart,” he says, voice thick with desire.

“Please,” you say softly. “I need to feel you, Hao.” 

Minghao lines himself up and presses his tip against your entrance. You’re a little sensitive from his tongue and his fingers. Still wet from that and from the intensity of the kisses afterwards. You wrap your legs around his waist as he angles into you. He leans forward, arms on either side of you so that you’re caged in. He’s sliding in so slowly, so carefully. It’s the first time he’s even come close to teasing you. Or maybe it’s just so that he can draw it out. Either way, you want him buried inside you. Can’t stop from wrapping your legs tighter around him. It’s hard to have him looking at you with so much intensity. So much eye contact. You catch the chuckle at your impatience with your lips. 

It works, though. He bottoms out with one final thrust and you would scream it if not for his lips on yours. You let him set the pace even though it’s just slower than you want. The sensitivity just makes everything feel more intense. Each time either of you breaks the kiss to catch a breath, your eyes are on each other. Uttering praise and promises into the space between the two of you. More Minghao than you, which is incredible. A steady stream of both coherent and incoherent thoughts. Somehow it all makes sense to both of you. All seems like it’s exactly right. And true to his word, when the tension builds in your body again, Minghao breaks the kiss entirely. Watches the way your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open. Appreciates every sound you make. Later he’ll tell you that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than you in that moment. For now, all he can do is watch and pick up his own pace. He wants to follow right behind you.

There’s less build up this time when you fall over the edge, toes curling and back arching. It’s even more intense too, something you didn’t think was possible. Hazily, you feel Minghao’s thrusts falter in their speed as he comes hard just after you. You try to take over the rhythm, but your body feels spent. After his final thrust, he offsets his weight so he’s not lying fully on top of you without pulling out either. Your breathing syncs up with his as you come back to the bedroom and the reality of what just happened. 

You can’t help yourself. His hair is a little wet with sweat and you reach out to brush it away. Think about how this may be your favorite hairstyle he’s ever had. He catches your hand before you even realize his eyes are on you and he kisses your palm. It makes you smile at the care in his eyes. When he releases your hand he props himself up to slowly ease out of you. You figure that you should get up as well before he presses your shoulder gently down.

“I’ve got you,” he says. 

And he does, doesn’t he? He’s shown you with his actions and even followed it up with his words. He does have you and you think he’ll probably always be there. You hear the water running from the attached bathroom and then watch him return with a wet washcloth. The bright light behind him highlights his silhouette like an angel. That’s not where it stops, though. Instead of letting you clean yourself up, he sits on the bed and runs the cloth carefully over your body. It makes your heart hurt to have him taking care of you like this, so tender and full of such pure affection. Once he finishes, he tosses the washcloth over to the nightstand. You pull him into you so that you can cuddle close. 

Even though you could probably stay like that for the rest of the night, you know that you either need to change the sheets or figure something out. You run a hand over his arm thoughtfully. That’s when it hits you and you turn your face to his. “Do you wanna go sleep in my bed with me and we can deal with your bed tomorrow?”

His laugh is light, easy. “Inviting me to bed on the second date, what will the neighbors say?” 

You swat at his arm without any real force. “That you’re incredibly lucky, I expect.”

“They’re right about that,” he says, any teasing gone in the completely honest statement. It’s a little too much for you, at least for a minute. Minghao, in his infinite wisdom, lets you have the moment. He moves from the bed and helps you up with him. Even helps you track down your clothing that’s gotten more scattered than you realize. 

It’s so easy to fall back into a rhythm with him even though it feels entirely different. Familiar and new. Fitting for the enigma that is the man before you. Which is when it hits you, just as he’s reaching the door to the hallway. Minghao stops to turn around and see why you’re not right behind him. 

“Are you coming? I don’t really want to have to break into your place,” he says with another light laugh.

“Been working on your cat burglar skills during the past few years, have you?” you joke back and he just shakes his head. Closes the space between you and collects you into his arms.

“I think that’s your wishful thinking about wanting a cat,” he says and you laugh.

“Could be,” you concede.

“Shall we?” he asks when he releases you.

“Just a second,” you say and he regards you with clear curiosity. “Earlier you told me that you loved me and…”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly. You mistake it for him thinking you don’t feel the same.

“No, I need to say something,” you say and he swallows anything else. “I love you, too.”

“I know,” he says with a smile that has you rolling your eyes. Of course he knows. You’re entirely smitten and once again, the last one to know. “And how lucky am I to have someone who loves me like you do as a Valentine? To be loved by someone that I love as much as I love you?” 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hao.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Here’s to a lifetime more of these.”

“I can’t wait.”

[starmocha]

sorry if this is too dark but if MC did die, how do you think each of them would react/the severity of the reaction? Obviously all of them would be crushed but I think Caleb would definitely either 1) end everything 2) end himself

Oh, I've written plenty of dark stuff before in other fandoms so...

So…do you guys have your tissues ready? Guys’ reactions to losing both you and the baby. For the sake of continuity, it follows the previous ask someone wondered about an MC with a risky pregnancy. I will be writing two other alternate “endings” another time (losing you, but baby lives & both you and the baby live. I won’t be doing a miscarriage/stillbirth one since no one asked.). These ficlets will also be available on AO3 in my fic collection, and we’ll chase after shooting stars.

(I actually do have a series with the guys grieving your death, but I am way behind on it. I have Zayne and Rafayel’s stories up if anyone’s interested in reading them.)

life moved on

Zayne would struggle internally, his logical side at war with his own emotional state.

He was a doctor. He knew there would always be a risk of loss. He himself sometimes had to be the one to deliver this type of unfortunate news to families.

Only, he just never imagined he would be on the receiving end one day.

He had monitored you throughout your pregnancy, learning more, and taking precautions wherever necessary. He knew the risk, he knew there was always that chance. But he had hoped. He had prayed. He had believed.

And it was all in vain.

He had been letting work consumed him. Life still moved on. The world would not stop for him, and there were still lives that he could save. There was not a moment to waste.

Sometimes, though, the world did slow down, everything pausing, such as now as he sat down at his desk lined with a row of photographs in frames. The snapshots of the life he had lost, of the future that should have been his, seemed to stare back at him in cruel mockery.

For just this moment, alone in his office, Zayne let his grief poured out, the heavy sobs filled the former silence in the room. In an hour, he would compose himself again, returned to being Doctor Zayne, and he would resume his duty, because life moved on.

But his heart stayed buried, resting with you and the child he lost.

no rest for the wicked

Rafayel falls into a deep depression, riddled with guilt, because he believes he is being punished for what he had said previously.

There was no rest for the wicked.

Rafayel couldn’t recall the last time he had slept peacefully, or even at all. Surely, this must be a punishment, right?

He had said such horrible words, so he was being punished for them, right? He didn’t deserve the baby, and he didn’t deserve you, so he was punished with the loss of both. That was a fair punishment, right?

He laughed, the sound so hollow and mirthless, his chest tightening with pain as tears trickled down his face.

Right. He didn’t deserve this.

So why should he deserve anything?

He grabbed an empty canvas and hurled it at the wall, destroying it instantly.

He didn’t deserve any of this.

He grabbed another, and another, and another. He incinerated several art pieces at various stages of completion, feeling nothing as they turned to ashes. He vandalized most of his studio, destroying his tools and everything he had ever created. There was no meaning to any of this anymore.

Heaving heavily and with a dagger in his hand, he turned to the grand canvas that filled the space of a wall. He plunged the weapon into it, dragging it down over and over again, his mind filled with a cacophony of his own voice and yours.

My fishie…I won’t leave you…

“Don’t lie to me…” he kept attacking the canvas, his words growing more frenzied, “Don’t leave me…I’m yours…I’m yours…you promised to stay…”

He dropped the dagger and fell to his knee, his forehead resting against the canvas as he sobbed. He was so exhausted, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep again in your arms.

“I’m sorry…”

forever would be nice

Xavier would feel so much guilt, almost as if he didn’t do enough to help you.

He felt so incompetent.

He should have done more. Should have done something.

Xavier could hear you scolding him, telling him it wasn’t his fault. Deep down, he knew it was true, but he wanted a reason, wanted an explanation for why that day happened. If he at least shouldered the blame, then maybe he could make sense of why he lost not only you but the baby as well.

Lately, it seemed like it was harder to wake up. He had not changed the bedsheet or pillowcases in a while, the scent of you still lingered, helping him sleep most nights. In these sweet dreams, he lived another life, his world completed with both you and the baby.

He wished he could dream just a little longer. Forever would be nice.

just enough

Sylus reverts to who he used to be, cold and distrusting.

There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to numb this pain, but maybe if he drank enough, he could begin to forget.

Forget the you who had fearlessly took his hand no matter how dangerous he was, the you who had wanted to bring light into his dark world, the you who accepted him for who he was, loved him just as he was.

Sylus’ hand tightened around his glass, the force enough that it shattered and shards pierced his skin. He stared emotionlessly at his cut hand, the blood dripping profusely to the floor not even registering in his mind that it was his.

As his wounds healed on their own, his eyes glazed over, and he remembered another day when there was so much more blood than this. There was just so much blood on that hospital bed, and he remembered how his voice was completely raw as he screamed at the panicked doctor and nurses, and then the chaos subsided, an eerie silence had followed, his whole world gone in an instance.

There was no noise. There was no warmth. There was no joy. There was only this sudden void in his life again, one that he had tried to fill for so long.

Not enough alcohol to numb the pain, not enough punching bags for him to take his rage out on, and not enough money to bring back what was.

If he could trade away his riches, his power, his glory, he would in a heartbeat for a chance to have you back, because with you, everything was just enough. He desired nothing else but you, the love and happiness you had brought into his life was enough.

always by your side

Caleb wouldn’t be able to bear living in a world without you, since his whole life since childhood had revolved around you.

There were hushed whispers throughout the Farspace Fleet, all quieted in an instance whenever Caleb passed by. The Colonel was always a strict man, his presence demanding respect for his authority, but recently, there had been a change, his demeanor hardening, his violet eyes dulled, a despair hidden beneath his icy façade.

One night in warm June, he left Skyhaven in the dead of night, catching a late train to Linkon. He disembarked, empty-handed, his feet automatically moving, his mind muddled with memories of a little girl who came into his life so long ago, of his promise to always be by her side, their lives always intertwined until that one awful day he was taken from her.

However, nothing could ever keep him from you. He would always find his way home to you, and no matter the storms in your lives, he would find a way to right things.

You were both going to be happy. There was nothing make-believe about the life you two were going to have.

You had worn a white dress, him in his colonel uniform, and with your hand in his, he had vowed his life to you once more, his joy boundless when you echoed back to him similar words. After marriage came the baby carriage, and you were all going to be a family of three.

He had always taken care of you, and he still took care of you even when there were concerns about the pregnancy. He had done everything right, made sure you were safe throughout, so how could things have gone wrong in the eleventh hour?

The moment you slipped from his life, his whole world stopped, the nightmares he had thought were gone returned with a vengeance, haunting him with dreams of that day over and over again. He had failed you, the hospital had failed you, everyone had failed you, because he would rather believe this than ever think he was always meant to lose you over and over again until you were ripped from his life for good.

It wasn’t fair.

He wondered what sin he carried to be punished with the loss of both you and the baby. A baby conceived from love, an innocent being, never once taken breath but only knowing death. Caleb wondered what kind of God would be so cruel, wanting to scream his anger out, wanting to demand answers to all of the questions that had been haunting him.

He stopped walking, seeing a locked gate blocking his path. He stared at it dully before he pulled out a gun, shooting the lock once with perfect precision. He continued walking, the path he was taking lined with rows of gravestones of those long departed from this world.

The one he wished to see was secluded, in its own area and hidden away, just like how he had always wished when you were alive. The world had never deserved you, and now he was even more convinced, you were always too good for this Hell on earth.

A grave among bushes of hydrangeas, his breathing suddenly became ragged. The air was heavy and he was pulled to his knees, his lungs tightening as he struggled to breathe, but for this brief instance, there was a smile on his face as he let go of his control over his Evol.

The gun he used earlier levitated ominously.

He started laughing, tears in the corners of his eyes. He could hear your voice again. You were calling for him.

Caleb! Caleb!

“I’m here,” he whispered, “I’ll always be by your side.”

Caleb always kept his promises to you. Always.

Among the dead, a deafening noise resounded, startling the wild creatures that lurked around the area.

Surrounded by the pink and blue and white of the hydrangeas, the summer seemed so endless now as the ground was dyed in crimson.

[lawsbbygirl]

LAWLULAW FIC RECS PART 2

Link to part 1: here I finally got around to making a part two. I've read many fics since, and down below I'll link some of my favorites. There's a massive amount of incredibly talented writers in this fandom, and every day I feel so grateful to be a part of it, so please, don't take my recs as gospel, and look for fics yourself too. There are many amazing works that I've definitely missed adding, or that I haven't even read yet. I trust you all to shower the authors in kudos and positive comments! As a side note, I also write fics for this ship, so if you want to read my works, you can do that here!

Completed works:

Sating Hunger by xairylle 5,336 words, M "At the end of the day, even with all the major blunders that almost cost him his life, Law decided that this alliance had been worth it. Until he fucked it up by not being able to hold himself back from kissing Monkey D. Luffy." i will follow you into the dark by koudai 14,822 words, T "In the aftermath of Luffy’s and Blackbeard’s fight at Laugh Tale, Law dies as he performs the Perennial Youth Operation, to save Luffy’s life.

we've got blood and honey (getting high and getting some) by Trashgalore 11,158 words, E LawLu. Wound fucking, blood play, masochism... need I say more? Absolutely delicious. Easy Come, Easy Go by traszka 3,312 words, Gen "So, not-ally," Straw Hat strikes up again, "are you gonna kiss me, or what?" in your darkest hour (you belong to me) by Jien_o 4,555 words, E LawLu. Absolutely love this one... morally dubious pre-ts. Jien serving us a delicious meal as always. i’m a saint living in sin by corasonrie 4,340 words, M Human!Law, vampire!Luffy. Beautiful prose in this one.

Broken Hearts by Dragon_Falls 33,943 words, M Canon spoilers. "After retreating from Blackbeard, Bepo takes Law to the Thousand Sunny for help. Law is so broken that he doesn't even realize that the virus from the battle has returned. He now has to deal with his grief and a new body that he hates." Here Cums Peter Cottontail by Alte 13,802 words, E LuLaw. Ridiculously horny encounter between bunny hybrid Law and a hungry Luffy. Read the tags! Ice Ice Baby by killyhawk 9,265 words, E Hockey AU of my dreams. Fireflies by Martilla 63,531 words, E LuLaw. Old man yaoi AU. Absolutely adore this one. on every candle (i wish for you) by Minniaa 6,941 words, E LawLu. Luffy makes Law's birthday a million times better. So hot! Fog by Oh_Whoa 9,244 words, E LawLu. "Zoology professor Law hitches a ride on the Thousand Sunny." This one is so effortlessly hilarious and delicious. Obsessed with it! hanabi by quackquackcey 4,840 words, E LuLaw. "A lazy sunset at the beach, a stroll through the summer festival, a dash amidst hanabi—their feelings finally connect." Beautifully written omegaverse. Pirates Don't Have Love Stories by Kyrathel 19,617 words, E LawLu. Mpreg. "Luffy gathers a crew and battles with his gender identity." I love this fic so much and have reread it several times. Read the tags! We Should Get Rid of our Innocence Together by vomsa 44,109 words, E Switch. This one is such a fun story of our boys losing their virginities to each other. Humor, delicious smut, and just a great read! ᚴᚱᚢᛘᛘᛁ by MisuAnonimasu 10,589 words, E LawLu. Viking!AU of my dreams! The whole series is a fantastic read. like sunshine and marigolds by fallflowers 42,182 words, E LawLu. The perfect childhood friends to lovers fic. you're not just a human being (you are art) by orphan_account 3,127 words, E LuLaw. Law grows his hair out and Luffy has a crisis. So cute! The Doctor is Snowed In by Anonymous 35,867 words, E LawLu. "Wherein Luffy learns a little more about his anatomy and tests the patience and bond of his newly formed alliance while stuck in a cave on Punk Hazard." I love this fic SO much. and we'll have a spring wedding by Killyhawk 4,895 words, M "A 40-year-old Luffy appears on the Thousand Sunny with unexpected news." AMAZING READ. One of my faves for sure. Logistics by ST_Osmanthus 4,241 words, E LawLu. "The alliance succeeded. The mission is over. It’s time to go." This one is so fun! A Good Man Is Hard To Find by Masked Deuce 29,566, E DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Serial killer!Law and cannibal!Luffy. Read the tags. Love this one so much. Tea'sing All The Way Through by Camafeu 274,600 words, E This fic made me experience every single emotion that exists. I have no words other than this is a MUST read! Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response by DidntThinkofAName 9,302 words, E LawLu. "Luffy sees Nami fiddling with a pair of tiny transponder snails and begs her to let him try them out. Things get out of hand.

Or, the one where Law does ASMR." I'm so obsessed with this fic, I could read it a thousand times. I shine only with the light you gave me by bokkuroo 5,766 words, E LawLu. God of Death Law and God of the Sun Luffy. Very sweet and spicy. Treats by Rainy_atw 6,124 words, E LawLu. "Luffy gets golden-retrieverd." This is so fun and hot, OBSESSED. Lavender's Blue by Cooknumber3 33,850 words, E LuLaw. Cinderella/fantasy AU with fantastic worldbuilding.

Ongoing works:

After the Fall by Minniaa 4/? chapters, E LuLaw. Beautiful AU based on the Icarus myth. Sun King by Newmoondust 1/? chapters, E Roman empire AU where Luffy is a gladiator, and Law is a priest. Gorgeously written and I'm so invested only one chapter in! a scripted empathy by lances 2/8 chapters, E Law is a serial killer and Luffy is an underground fighter, but that's not enough to explain how riveting this fic is. Unique and captivating! Hold My Heart, it's Beating for You Anyway by 7raffy_law 5/? chapters, E LawLu. My absolute favorite vampire fic. Beautifully written with an engrossing plot, and fantastic characterization. shadow rises (and you are here) by shishiswordsman 8/11 chapters, E This author is one of my absolute favorites, and this fic makes you feel despair, sorrow, pain, but also flickers of hope masterfully weaved inbetween. The angst is spectacular, and the bond between Law and Luffy and how it's written takes my breath away. Of fans and filmstars by N_Moonbreeze 6/? chapters, E Switch. Pornstar!AU that hits the spot. Love this author's writing style and this fic in particular has me in a chokehold.

Don't Assume by Kyrathel 14/? chapters, E LuLaw. Fem!Law. This fic is so much fun to read, with delicious smut as well. "Luffy meets Law online playing a game. He isn't really what he thought she was..." Curiosity Killed The Cat... But The Hot Wolf Doctor Brought Him Back by vomsa 15/? chapters, E Such a fun and yummy omegaverse fic. Absolutely adore it! until you're mine by Jien_o 7/? chapters, E "Luffy has a stalker." All of Jien's fics are worth subscribing to! This one has me on the edge of my seat.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Several Sentences Sunday!!

Tagged by the lovely @spotsandsocks @tizniz who shared AMAZING words y'all should show some love!! 🩷🩷

Tanis is holding me to this, and y'all are free to join in. I am bound and determined to finish the paranoia fic by this time next week. I'm working out the kinks at the moment, and I have one or two scenes to add, but we're close!!

"Sorry to have to cut this short," Buck says, not sorry at all, and tugs Eddie away from Allen. Eddie turns his head to Buck, using his peripheral vision to see if Allen gave up. He stands in the parking lot, scowling at them. “He's watching us,” Eddie whispers. He makes sure to smile like he said something flirty. Buck guides them to the passenger side of his Jeep. “Go with it,” he mutters as he easily spins and presses Eddie against the door. Eddie's breath hitches as his back hits the door. Buck smiles, almost smirks, something in his eyes Eddie hasn't seen since a late night in Buck's kitchen. His eyes dart somewhere behind them and his brows twitch into a frown. He smooths out the expression into that smirk again. “Do you trust me?” he whispers. “What kind of question is that?” Eddie drawls, way too fond. Buck raises an eyebrow, almost admonishingly. He reaches up and cups Eddie’s cheek. His thumb sweeps across Eddie's lower lip and Eddie shudders. He can't look away from Buck. Doesn't ever want to. “Do you trust me with you?” Buck whispers.

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[saccharinesatoru]

Unwrap Me (m)

Pairing: gojo satoru x reader (f)

Genre: sorcerer & boyfriend!Gojo + smut w/ fluff

Word count: uhh 6k ish i think

Summary: Satoru felt so very bad after spending so much time away from home, so to make it up to you, he’ll be wrapped nice and pretty for you as a Valentine’s Day gift for the both of you. 

Warnings: submissive!gojo, mommy kink, bondage, overstimulation, breeding kink, choking, penetration (f receiving), brief use of daddy kink, pregnancy kink (low key)

A/N: i originally had this as a gojo christmas/belated birthday fic, but i didn’t finish it in time… lmao thank you always for the support. And lemme know if you have the artist’s ^ name, so i can tag or credit them  

Xx Jay

Surprisingly, the hardest part about being a sorcerer wasn’t fighting curses, the agonizing hours of training, or even dealing with the ridiculously ignorant higher ups. The most challenging part was how your social life was almost entirely depleted. It’s a miracle you get along so well with other sorcerers like Shoko and Nanami, otherwise you’d have no friends whatsoever… and no boyfriend either. When you first met Satoru, you admittedly thought he was annoying. Though, pretty much everyone felt the same way upon meeting the white-haired sorcerer… and some people still found him annoying to this day (i.e., Nanami). 

After years of working together, neither of you could deny the spark you two shared and eventually caved in to the passion. The rest was history. And now, going three years strong, you and Satoru love each other more than anything. There’s just one problem: both of you are so busy that you hardly get any time with each other. You have the day off? Sorry, Satoru’s on a mission abroad. He miraculously finishes a mission early and gets to come home sooner than expected? That’s a shame; you’re caught in a meeting with Yaga and the higher ups. It certainly wasn’t easy being in a relationship with the honored one, and that was emphasized on anniversaries and holidays that you two spent apart. 

Today was Valentine’s Day, and you had already prepared yourself to spend the night alone, drinking wine, watching corny romcoms, facetiming Satoru from his mission outside of Tokyo, and trying not to cry yourself to sleep as you lay in a cold bed, void of your boyfriend of several years. You told yourself it was okay. After all, you should be used to it by this point, right? This was hardly the first significant date you had spent without your partner. Surely you’d be able to muster through this one too… right? 

That would be much simpler if you hadn’t borne witness to about a dozen couples enjoying the day of love together. Hell, even Principal Yaga had plans and left campus early to meet with some mystery woman. Like Satoru, you're a teacher at Jujutsu High, and you saw plenty of your students celebrating the special day together. Yuta planned a picnic date with Maki, Megumi made a bouquet of origami flowers for Yuji, and even Hakari and Kirara had planned some big trip to a casino in the heart of Tokyo which definitely didn’t seem legal or age-appropriate. As happy as you were to see your students so happy and in love, it reminded you of how your Valentine this year would be your couch and a bottle of wine instead of your boyfriend. You took a deep breath as Ijichi drove you home. Ordinarily, you’d drive yourself, but you had a sneaking suspicion that even Ijichi felt bad for you and decided to show you some compassion… or pity… or both. 

You smile softly and wave goodbye to the assistant supervisor as he drives off in the direction of the setting sun. Surprisingly, getting off work late was a welcomed circumstance today given it meant you’d be spending less time alone in an empty house. Trudging to your front door, you fumble with the keys and slip off your shoes upon entering the home you shared with Satoru. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but the house quite literally felt colder without Satoru- regardless of what the thermostat said. All you want to do is change into your pajamas and wallow in self-pity… but then you see the rose petals delicately scattered on the floor. You frown, and for a second, you think you’re either hallucinating, about to be attacked by someone who broke into your home, or being pranked. 

Your worries are offset when you hear soft music coming from the direction of your bedroom. You slowly walk toward the room, following a line of rose petals. Upon peeking your head in the doorway, your jaw drops and your eyes widen. Who else do you find but the one and only Gojo Satoru sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but his signature blindfold and red ribbon that’s meticulously wrapped to cover his pelvis. Now you’re sure you’re hallucinating. 

You stammer, “I… The mission… you’re here…”

He laughs and sits up to rest on his elbows. “Surprise, sweetheart. Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

You feel dazed. Here you were, preparing yourself to lie to your boyfriend over facetime about not crying your eyes out due to loneliness when Satoru was sat, waiting all patient and pretty, and ready to be unwrapped like the gift he is. Your jaw must still be on the floor, because Satoru laughs again at your expression. “Don’t just stand there. I didn’t get home earlier than planned just for you to catch flies with that jaw of yours left open all night.”

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you feel tears well in your eyes as you rush toward him and leap onto the bed, pulling him into your arms. You say softly and quietly, “I missed you so much, Toru. I wanted to count down the days until I saw you next, but with how busy we both are, I wasn’t sure when that day would be.” 

Satoru looks at you with a soft smile too as he holds you close to his chest and his warmth envelops you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart… I know this is difficult for you and our relationship. I’m going to make a better effort to make time for us. And that’s why I think you’ll like the gift I got you…” He trails off before chuckling. “I mean, it’s not the only gift I got you, but I think you’ll like it most.”

You furrow your brows and look at him. It was not a surprise that Satoru got you multiple gifts for Valentine’s Day. He does the same thing for just about every special day, even holidays like Saint Patrick’s Day that neither one of you even celebrated. So what did he have planned that was so magnanimous that he deliberately mentioned it before giving it to you? “...What is it?”

He smirked at you and whispered in your ear, “After negotiating with the higher ups…” He pauses and amends, “Okay, after threatening the higher ups, I got the two of us a whole week off of work to do whatever… we… want.” 

It may sound silly and over dramatic, but you honestly have to hold back a scream at the words he whispers to you. A whole week? Neither one of you has had that much time off since… actually, you’ve never had that much time off. You and Satoru were lucky to get a mere afternoon together. That time was always cherished, but this is an entire week. You feel faint just thinking about it. Your silence and expression conveys just about every bit of excitement and shock you have. Satoru smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “That’s right, sweets. Just you and me for the whole week. No curses, no missions, no higher ups… just us.” 

A tear threatens to slip down your cheek as you process his words. He softly wipes away your tears with his thumb. You pull him even closer and breathe in the scent of his cologne. It’s the little things, really. The very thought that you’ll be able to take in his scent from rubbing your nose against the crook of his neck rather than try to inhale traces of it from his pillow brings you overwhelming joy that you can’t begin to put into words. You say softly and sincerely, “Thank you, Satoru. This means more than the world… You mean more than the world.”

Satoru smiles. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He leans closer to you, his breath warm against your ear and whispers, “Now, how about you unwrap your other gift.. I think you’ll really like it.” He grabs your hand gently and places it on the ribbon’s bow on his thigh. You smirk as well and begin to slowly pull on the strand, untying the bow. 

“I think it’s a gift both of us will like,” You whisper back. 

You undo the ribbon and slowly slide it off Satoru, revealing his body in its entirety. You caress him as if he’s the most precious piece of art you’d ever laid eyes on (which is true). Almost as if in a trance, you whisper, “A masterpiece…” 

Satoru’s blush doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Even though Satoru was always very confident (cocky) about his handsome features and bragged frequently about his physique and attractiveness, he never failed to blush whenever you complimented him. Something about you and your praise made him equal parts flustered and proud. And your comment just now was no exception. You chuckle at his expression and run your finger down his body. You have a mischievous twinkle in your eye. “Satoru… I have an idea for your Valentine’s Day gift…”

He furrows his brows in confusion. You have to keep yourself from cooing and pinching his cheeks, given his expression makes him akin to a puppy dog. “What is it?”

You smile and gently pull off the remaining ribbon on his body. Satoru lets out a quiet hiss at the feeling of the silk gliding over his rock hard cock. Once the ribbon is completely off his body, you twirl it in your hands and smile. “Be a good boy for me, and let me tie you up another way.”

Satoru’s eyes widen, and his cock grows impossibly harder. If your previous compliment made him blush, your comment made him red as a tomato. Sure, he likes pet names like ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, or ‘honey’... but nothing gets him hot, bothered, and a blushing mess than when you call him your good boy. He stutters, “T-tie me up?”

You chuckle and nod, playing with the ribbon in your hands. “You heard me right, Toru. How bout you let me string you up and take care of you for the night, hm? You must be so tired after your long mission… Why don’t you let mommy do all the work?”

He nearly cums from your words alone. No one would ever expect the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, the honored one, the almighty Gojo Satoru to have such a submissive side to him, but you knew better than anyone that every now and then, Satoru would be so desperate for you to take control that he’d be on the brink of tears. This is no exception. He looks at you like you’re his patron saint, and he worships the very ground you walk on. He nods slowly, eyes still wide. You chuckle again and lightly pat his cheek. “Words, baby.”

Satoru attempts (and fails) to snap out of his daze, but is able to speak softly, “Yes, mommy. Please make me feel good. I need it- I need you.” 

You smile and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “What a good boy. Scoot up near the headboard for me, baby. Let’s hope I’m still good at tying knots.” He damn near leaps to the top of the bed. You almost question if he teleported there, too excited to even move normally. It’s not entirely fair to chuckle at his behavior, since you’re just as excited as he is. You use the ribbon to tie his wrists to the headboard. Pulling gently on the restraints to make sure they’re not too tight, you ask softly, “Is that okay, baby? Not too tight?”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine, mommy- no pain or discomfort.” 

You nod and caress his cheek again. “You remember our system, right? Green for keep going, yellow for slow down, and red for stop. If your mouth is full, tap me three times, and I’ll stop. Also, be sure to tell me if the restraints are too tight or are beginning to hurt you, okay? I know you can heal yourself with reverse curse technique, but the last thing I want is to hurt you, alright? Don’t ever worry about upsetting or disappointing me. Your safety is the most important thing to me, alright?”

Satoru nods. Even the way you speak to him while explaining your safe words has his stomach doing flips. He’s always appreciated how caring you are, and there’s no exception when it comes to sex. As hot as the actual act is, the amount of love and care you display is the part of sex that means the most to him. And obviously, he’s far too strong for the measly ribbon to hold him back, but the very act of submitting to you willingly has both of you feeling hot and bothered. “Yes, I understand. I will communicate with you how I’m feeling, I promise.”

You nod again and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Okay, baby, let’s get started.” 

The excitement in Satoru’s eyes is practically visible through his blindfold. You chuckle and gently slip the fabric up and over his head. “I want to see all of you.” His face heats up at your words and nods, his bottom lip between his teeth and blush on full display. You begin by running your finger gently down his torso, leaving goosebumps along his skin. As you move lower, you begin to pepper kisses along his torso, leading to his muscular thighs. When you reach his cock, you playfully run your tongue over a vein, making him shiver. “P-please don’t tease, mommy. I need you so bad.”

Chuckling softly, you drop a dollop of spit onto his length and take him in your hand, pumping him a few times. “I’m sorry, baby. You know I can’t help but love watching my good boy squirm and beg for me.” Shooting him a sweet smile, you lean forward and wrap your lips around his pretty pink tip, eliciting a gasp out of the man. Deciding you’re done with teasing him, you sink your mouth down further until he hits the back of your throat. Instead of making him cry through teasing, you’ll make sure to bring him to tears by milking him dry. 

You begin with a slow rhythm, pumping in your hands whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Satoru was nonstandard in every sense of the word. To say his cock was massive was an understatement. The feeling of him in your mouth was one thing, but the stretch you felt when he finally slipped inside was unlike anything else you’d ever felt. And you were determined to make him feel as good as he made you feel. Quickening your pace, you hear Satoru moan, the occasional whimper and whine spilling from his lips. You forced your mouth deeper until your nose touched his pelvis, the soft white tufts of hair around his cock brushing against your nose. You lean up quickly for air, you immediately wrap your lips around him again. He gasps at the sudden change and wiggles his hips against you, almost thrusting into your mouth. You tap his thigh, wordlessly giving him permission to fuck your mouth. Satoru whines upon your signal granting him permission and wastes no time bucking his hips upward, his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. You’re gagging, drool and precum spilling from your lips and dripping down your chin. Satoru looks at the sight of you with tears brimming in your eyes from the lack of oxygen as he fucks into your tight throat. He honestly feels like he could cum from the sight alone, but he holds back since he doesn’t want the moment to end. The pleasure feels too good for him to give in now. He bites his lip and clenches both of his fists against the restraints. 

Upon seeing him hold back, you narrow your eyes and sit up. When his hardened cock falls from your lips, his eyes shoot open in desperation and he immediately begins to whine, “W-wait, wait, wait! Why did you stop? Please, please keep going, mommy.”

Taking his length in your hand and rubbing up and down the appendage, you say sternly, “You know how I feel about you holding back, baby. You’re not supposed to hold back any noises or orgasms unless I tell you otherwise. I don’t want to have to punish you…” 

Satoru feels like he might start crying on the spot. “N-No! No, I swear, I’ll be your good boy. I’m sorry for breaking the rules, mommy. I… I just wanted this to last longer. Y-your mouth feels so good, and I just want to feel it a little bit longer, mommy. I wasn’t trying to be bad.” 

You honestly feel bad for even mentioning punishment in the first place with how desperate Satoru looked at the moment. You caress his cheek and say softly, “Baby, I have so much more in store for you. Just because you cum early during a blowjob doesn’t mean I’m not going to milk you dry tonight.”

His eyes light up in excitement at your words, the distress written on his face fading and the tears subsiding. “Yes, yes, thank you, mommy. I’m sorry for doubting and disrespecting you…” Satoru’s face morphs into a pout. “Can… Can we keep going please?”

Chuckling at his question, you nod. “Of course, baby. Tonight’s about you.” You catch him off guard by immediately taking him in your mouth again, causing him to let out a loud moan and tense his thick thighs. You increase the pleasure by moving one hand to his balls and fondling them the way you know drives him crazy. He whimpers at the feeling and faces an internal dilemma as to whether or not he should drop his head against the pillow in pleasure or keep his eyes trained on the captivating sight that is you. 

With his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, your hand pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth, and your other hand playing with his balls has him teetering on the edge of climax. He whines out, “M-Mommy, mommy, I’m close. Please let me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” 

You hum around him, both giving him nonverbal permission to cum as well as sending vibrations through his already sensitive cock. He gasps and shoots his load into your mouth, whining, moaning, and thanking you for pleasing him. “Thank… Thank you so much, mommy. That felt so… so good.” He’s panting and trying to catch his breath when his eyes widen upon realizing you hadn’t stopped your ministrations. Satoru stammers, “W-Wait, mommy, I finished already. I- fuck- I’m sensitive.” 

Despite hearing his nervous stammering, you continue to suck him off. Hearing all his cute little noises sounded even better after he felt boneless following a powerful orgasm. Just to push him even further, you pick up the intensity of your movements and make the act even messier with more drool, tears, and precum. You know how much he likes the sight of you eager to please him and give him the relief he needs. 

Satoru feels like his brain is turning to mush. Despite the fact that he just came moments ago, he feels his cock begin to harden again, adding to the sensitivity he feels. He feels his entire body tremble as you increase the intensity. He lets out a shaky breath, feeling as oxygen-deprived as you do. “I-I’m close again, mommy. I’m so, so close. I’m going to cum, oh my god.” Satoru groans and his entire body tenses, anticipating his climax. You pull your mouth off him, but continue pumping him up and down as well as fondling his balls. 

You say to your boyfriend warmly, “Baby, I told you I was going to milk you dry. Mommy always keeps her promises, right?”

He nods vigorously which is a miracle considering how high he feels at the moment. Satoru’s lips are red from how much he’s bitten them and his entire body is on edge, teetering on the brink of release. He looks at you with tear-filled eyes. “C-Can I cum, mommy? Please? I’ve been such a good boy for you.” 

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to his lips and whisper, “Cum for me, baby. Show mommy how good she made you feel.” 

You barely finish your sentence before he’s spilling into your hand, several ropes of cum coming from his red, sensitive cock. “Fuck!” Satoru’s a moaning mess, and you’d surely get noise complaints from the neighbors if Satoru weren’t so rich that he could buy the two of you an unreasonably large mansion. He’s loud and shameless- just how you like him. 

He comes down from his high and mutters, “Thank you, mommy. I-I was worried about how sensitive I felt at first, but you made me feel so good as usual. Thank you for always taking such good care of me.” Satoru looks at you with stars in his eyes as if you were an angel sent from heaven. 

You chuckle softly and lick off the cum that had stuck to your hands. Gently pushing some of his hair from his sweaty forehead, you smile fondly at the man. “Of course, baby. I have to give my good boy every bit of care and affection he deserves.” 

Satoru smiles at you softly and leans up to catch your lips in a kiss again. You make him feel so safe, so warm… so loved. He hadn’t felt that way since Suguru said goodbye to him all those years ago and left him to pick up the broken pieces of the life they had built together. You made him feel whole again, and he would spend every day of the rest of his life repaying you for the priceless amount of care and affection you gave him. 

He feels content in the moment but longs for you in a more intimate way. Satoru looks at you, a bit shy, and asks softly, “Can… Can you please ride me, mommy? Your mouth feels so good… but your pussy feels amazing.” 

You chuckle again and press another peck to his lips. “Of course, baby. I just wanted you to catch your breath first… What color?”

He thinks back to their color safe word system and states confidently, “Green, mommy. I feel a bit overstimulated… but you know I like it…” Satoru looks to the side, blush spreading across his cheeks again. 

Gently grabbing his chin and turning him to face you, you meet his gaze. “I know you do, baby. We’re far from done tonight, so I really need you to be honest and vocal with me if you want to slow down… If you’re ready, then we can move on.” 

Satoru nods. “Yes, mommy, I’m ready to continue. Please… please use me. Use my body, mommy. My cock belongs to you.” You can tell by his expression just how much sincerity his words hold, and it makes your heart warm like nothing and no one else could. You smile softly at him and capture his lips in a loving kiss. Your actions convey what your words cannot, and Satoru can feel the amount of love you feel for him. It makes his stomach erupt with butterflies. He would fight every cursed spirit and curse-user a million times over just for a simple touch from you. 

You throw your leg over his torso, effectively straddling him. You hover over his cock and use your hand to line him up with your entrance. Looking down at him, you ask, “Are you ready, baby? Ready for mommy’s pussy to take your big cock?” 

Your words have Satoru feeling feral. He nods so intensely, you think for a moment that he’ll have to use RCT to heal his neck. With desperation in his voice and written across his face, Satoru says quickly, “Yes, yes, please. Mommy, I need you so bad. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 

Chuckling, you show him mercy (not like you were doing any better yourself). You sink down on his cock and hiss at the stretch. The two of you never wore condoms since nothing felt better than being able to feel each other without any barriers in the way. The thought of that alone made Satoru feel weak, and the action itself made him feel like he ascended to heaven. Every time he filled you up, he returned to his own personal paradise. And the feeling was only exemplified by the fact that he was tied up, completely at your mercy. He whimpers when he bottoms out, your tight, warm walls sucking in his cock like a vacuum, making him shiver uncontrollably. 

After taking a moment to adjust, you lift yourself up with your thighs and slam back down onto him, making the two of you moan loudly in unison. After a few slow movements, you begin to bounce on his cock with increasing speed. You bring one of your hands to play with your clit as you ride him which has Satoru feeling both incredibly turned on and also a bit jealous since he wanted to touch your body too. You notice the look on his face and chuckle breathlessly, “Don’t worry, baby. Your touch still feels better than mine. Your hands are just a bit… preoccupied at the moment.” 

In any other situation, Satoru would have laughed at your sly joke, but you were fucking him so good that he couldn’t even get in a smart ass comment in retaliation. As your hips meet his, a bit of drool begins to spill from his lips. You lean forward and lick off the saliva that threatens to descend down his chin. Satoru looks fucked out beyond belief. The two consecutive orgasm  overstimulation from earlier only made him more sensitive, and you knew it too. 

With your spare hand, you wrap your fingers around Satoru’s throat, applying a fair amount of pressure that has him impossibly more aroused. Though you’re careful not to squeeze too tight and risk hurting Satoru since he was particularly sensitive in his submissive state, you press your fingers around his throat and make him see stars with the combination of your tight pussy and tightened grip around his windpipe. 

Satoru’s eyes roll to the back, and his head drops down onto the pillow. He longs to place his hands on your hips and guide you up and down his cock, but he knows that he has to be a good boy for you- especially since you’re oh-so-sweetly taking care of him. And in the moment, the mere thought of displeasing you makes him feel like crying. 

Noticing his expression, you press your lips to his again, kissing him passionately. He returns the kiss, matching the amount of affection and eager to express his love for you through his lips. You continue to fuck yourself on his cock, making the both of you loud and uncontrollable messes, frantically chasing their releases. 

Satoru hisses, “F-Fuck, mommy, your pussy fits me like a glove, I s-swear. I don’t give a fuck about jujutsu; your pussy is the real magic.” 

You would have laughed at his words if it weren’t for the fact that you were also turned on beyond belief and felt like you were going to explode if you didn’t climax soon. You release your hold on his neck (much to Satoru’s dismay) and start leaving hickeys along the smooth skin instead. Satoru gasps at a particularly hard bite against his jugular, making his eyes widen. You whisper in his ear, “You better not get rid of the marks I’m leaving on you, baby. You’re my own little masterpiece. My good boy, so pretty and strong. I just wanna mark you so everyone knows who you belong to. So be a good boy for mommy and don’t use your RCT to heal yourself, okay?”

Satoru is nodding quickly before you even finish speaking. “Yes, mommy, I belong to you. I don’t want anyone else looking at me. I- oh my god, you feel so good…” He’s unable to finish his sentence with how good you’re making him feel. He stammers out again between moans and whines, “I’m all yours, mommy- no one else’s. Use me whenever and however you want. Just wanna make you feel good.” 

He’s a rambling mess, and you know he’s approaching another orgasm. You ignore the burning in your thighs and force your body to move even quicker. His cock is sucked in and out of your pussy before his eyes, and the sight has him feeling even dizzier than he already does. Moaning against his skin, you breathe out, “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make mommy cum. Be a good boy and thrust up into me like before, okay? Can you do that for mommy?” 

Satoru nods eagerly again and starts fucking up into you, increasing the pleasure even more. Your fingers make fast figure eights on your clit and bring you to your climax. You curse and clench around him. “Oh my god, Satoru!”

He’s unable to be quiet even if he wanted to. Your walls tightening around him sends him spiraling over the edge. Satoru whines uncontrollably, and you feel him fill your insides with several spurts of his hot seed. He’s panting, chest rising and falling heavily with his eyes clenched shut. All of a sudden, his eyes shoot open. “Oh my god, mommy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t ask for permission to cum, and you told me to obey you otherwise I’d get a punishment, and I didn’t mean to let you down. You felt so good around me, and I know that’s not an excuse, but I just couldn’t help myself and-” 

You cut him off with a kiss. “Baby, it’s okay, I understand. Don’t worry; I’m not mad at you. You’re not going to be punished, baby. Take some deep breaths, okay? I know you’re feeling sensitive.” You softly wipe a tear that threatened to fall from the corner of his eye. He was so distraught at the thought of disappointing you that it had him as breathless as his orgasm. You rub your hand on his chest comfortingly. “What color, baby?”

He takes some deep breaths, trying to collect himself. Your soothing touch did wonders for him (it always did), and he was able to calm down within the next couple of moments before saying softly, “Green, mommy. I just… I just want to make you proud.”

Satoru has a frown on his face that breaks your heart just a bit. You take his face in your hands gently and say softly, “Baby, you make me proud everyday. The love of my life is the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. And the jujutsu isn’t even the most important part.” 

He looks at you with a bit of surprise in his eyes, “...It’s not?”

You chuckle softly and shake your head, rubbing your thumb against his cheek. “I’m proud of how smart you are, how brave you are, how big your heart is... I’m the luckiest girl in the whole wide world, because I get to call you mine.”

Before, Satoru felt like he was going to cry out of fear that he has disappointed you by not following the rules. Now he felt like he was going to cry from the sheer impact of your words alone. “You… You really mean that?” 

You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. “I meant every word, baby. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It doesn’t matter if our schedules don’t align or if we don’t always get to be around one another. There’s nothing that could keep me from loving you.”

Now Satoru actually starts crying. You frown and untie his hands gently before pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you for always being such a good boy for me, baby.” He pulls you in closer and wraps his arms around you tightly as if you’ll slip through his fingers if he’s not careful… just like Suguru did.

He whispers, vulnerability laced in his words, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You smile softly and caress him. “You’ll never have to find out, baby. I’m right here, and there’s nothing you can do to get rid of me.” He chuckles softly at your words, knowing that he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Satoru speaks softly again, “I keep having this dream… where you and I are retired, and we spend our days doing all the things we never have time for as sorcerers. Every time I pass by a bakery, I think about baking with you on a peaceful Saturday morning with flour cutely dusted on your face… Whenever I travel abroad for a mission, I think about how amazing it would feel to take you on a trip around the world, visiting every landmark and attraction just for the hell of it… Whenever I’m around the students, I… I think about how it would feel having kids of our own…”

Your eyes widen at that last comment. You know that Satoru is especially soft and sentimental after being in a submissive state, but you and Satoru had never discussed having kids together before. Of course, you wanted to… but having and raising kids when both of you were overworked beyond reason seemed impossible. But to hear him say those words so passionately, so sincerely, it had your heart warming in a way it never had before. 

You say softly, “Maybe… maybe we can make that a reality, Satoru.” 

He looks at you with hope. “Do… Do you think so?” 

Smiling warmly at the man, you press another kiss to his lips. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, and the thought of building a family with you only makes me love you more.” 

In that moment, Satoru feels more loved than he ever had in his entire life. He pulls you even closer until you feel his heartbeat against your own chest. After a moment, a smile slowly forms on your lips. “You know, Satoru… maybe I should stop taking my birth control…”

His head snaps up, and his wide eyes meet yours. “Don’t mess with me right now, or I swear to god, I’ll hollow purple myself.” 

You laugh at his comment. Although it sounded like a joke, you could hear the vulnerability in his tone. He wouldn’t really hollow purple himself… but this conversation about your future together was so important to him that he felt like he was hanging on the edge of his seat waiting for your answer. You whisper against his lips, “I want you, Satoru- all of you. I want the white dress and flower bouquet, I want the sounds of our kids playing in the backyard, I want you by my side as we build a home- a family- together.” 

Satoru pauses and looks a bit sheepish before saying, “Well, uh… If you don’t wanna spoil the surprise, then don’t look at the small box on our nightstand…”

You pause as well and naturally turn to the nightstand, unable to resist the temptation. You ask calmly, though your heart feels like it’s about to explode, “Satoru… is that an engagement ring?”

He doesn’t answer, and his silence speaks volumes. 

You laugh at his expression and smile playfully. “Well… If we really do hear those wedding day church bells in our future… then maybe it really is time we start building that family…” 

Satoru’s cock twitches inside you at your words, and you smirk. “What do you say, baby?”

He catches off guard by flipping the two of you over. You yelp as you're pinned down to the bed, staring up at Satoru with a fire in his eyes you’d never seen before. Before you can say anything, he grinds his hips against yours, and you moan. You ask shakily, “Y-you’re not too sensitive still?” 

Satoru laughs and begins to slowly thrust into you. “Ha! Are you kidding? My girl just told me she wants to have my kids. I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my entire life.” 

You’re about to playfully roll your eyes when he snaps his hips against yours again and sets a rough pace. You’re a moaning mess, and Satoru’s hard thrusts have you seeing stars. Satoru doesn’t even care that you’re still on birth control, and there’s hardly a sliver of a chance that you could miraculously get pregnant from a faulty medication. None of that matters. He has tunnel vision, and the idea of you pregnant has him crazed. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life. “Fuck, you’re gonna look so good, all round and plump… And your tits are gonna taste even better when they’re swollen with milk.” He latches his mouth onto your nipples and starts sucking and biting.

Long gone is the submissive Satoru who called you ‘mommy’, because now Satoru is hellbent on turning you into a mommy. He’s a man possessed with the way he fucks you. His hardened cock is slamming in and out of you, and all you can do is moan as he fucks your brains out. He chuckles darkly, “Who’s submissive now, huh?” 

You don’t even get the chance to respond since Satoru’s hand makes its way between your thighs and begins to rub your clit harshly just the way you like. You scream out, “Fuck! Satoru, don’t stop. Oh my god…”

Satoru smiles at your moans and continues fucking into you like his life depended on it. The sound of skin slapping echoes through the room, and the bed begins to squeak due to the intensity of Satoru’s thrusts. Neither one of you cares though, too distracted with the feel of each other. As if in a trace, you two fuck as if you’re the only people left in the world. Satoru speeds up the pace of his thrusts as well as his fingers on the bundle of nerves. 

You’re a blubbering mess. “Satoru, fuck, I’m so close.”

Desperately teetering on the verge of your orgasm, you’re desperate for release. Satoru laughs breathlessly as if he’s in a better state than you are. “Can’t hold on anymore? Look who’s- fuck- desperate now.”

An idea comes to mind and you lean in to whisper in Satoru’s ear, “Please let me cum, daddy.”

Satoru cums immediately. He practically bursts. Daddy kinks were one thing, but daddy kinks in the context of you two having a baby together? Fuck, Satoru is reeling. “Shit, oh my god, sweetheart. Take all my seed, fucking cum with me.”

You don’t waste a second and cum immediately after Satoru’s words. “Satoru! You’re so deep inside me- fuck. You’re filling me up so good…” You fight the urge to pass out with how hard your climax was. It seems that you and Satoru are the same in that starting a family has you hornier than ever. 

Once you both come down from your highs, you’re both breathing heavily with Satoru lying comfortably on top of you. You hold one another close and enjoy the feeling of each other’s heartbeats.

Satoru chuckles after a while. “I had a special Valentine’s Day dinner planned for us… but now I think it’s best we just stay in bed.” You laugh as well. 

“All this baby-making practice sure is intense.” You wipe your hair out of your eyes and gasp when Satoru thrusts into you again, cock harder than ever before. “...Satoru?”

He grins. “I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing our baby-making for when you stop your birth control. Practice makes perfect, right?”

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

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i actually posted when i said i was gonna lol wow that's a first. if you made it this far, thanks for reading and happy belated valentine's day loves <3

[staybabblingbaby]

Project: Stack The Deck (First Meeting a1d1)

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Concept: Reader is a long-time trainee at JYP Entertainment, on the verge of being dropped completely due to her age. In her first stroke of luck in ages, she's presented with an opportunity: JYPE is producing a brand new type of audition show - 9 lucky trainees will be 'interning' with 6 of JYPE's active groups for a year in hopes of forming the first ever mixed gender AND mixed subgender group in k-pop. The catch? The trainees are only interning with their exact opposite groups, in an effort to appease ongoing protests.

Or - Babble gives in and writes Omegaverse. But this time, there's ~lore~

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Word Count: 2,442

Notes: I've been writing a lot of stuff I can't post for various reasons, but the Fanmeet literally left me in shambles and I can't NOT write right now. So. Have basically our only 'proper' archive fic rn. It took over my brain y'all can't blame me 4 this. Very literally please ask me abt the lore for this fic. Send me an ask, I beg. I wanna talk abt it SO bad I will write essays.

Heavily inspired by To The 9th Degree by azaluvx7 on Ao3.

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Warnings: Mention of house fire. This gave me anxiety while I was writing it, so anxiety, maybe?

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Masterlist | Prev Part

Being in the same room as Stray Kids gives the same surreal feeling as an oncoming storm. It reminds me of standing in a sunny spot and seeing dark clouds on the horizon, knowing that, despite the warmth I feel now, a downpour is coming. It’s oppressive, it’s heavy, it’s nature and change in motion.

Or maybe it’s their very heavy scents in the air invading my thoughts.

Being in the presence of my wildly successful seonbaes is, of course, as impressive as all that, but I can’t help but wrinkle my nose as I walk into the meeting room. The air is saturated with alpha scents, muddled and indistinct by the sheer amount of them.

There are at least twenty people in this meeting, by my guess. Stray Kids and several Division 1 staff I recognize only due to having been at the company longer than many of them. Most of my trainers and a handful of T&D staff I’m very familiar with. Some producers and choreographers I don’t recognize, but assume work with Stray Kids.

I can hazard a guess that this is the general cast that’s been involved with the planning of the show. The glaring hole where the CEO or JYP himself should be, seeing as this meeting deals with both some of their top talents and a major project, is conspicuously ignored. Maybe this show has lower projected ratings than I thought.

Sudden apprehension seizes me at the prospect. My debut depends on this show getting good ratings. My debut depends on a lot of very nebulous things right now. This is no longer a matter of simply working hard.

The weight of my new reality settles, crooked and off-putting, around my shoulders.

Director Jae-Hwa’s hand feels like a brand on my lower back as she guides me further into the room. I’m toted around, making introductions and shaking hands, greeting those I already know as warmly as I can manage.

Stray Kids are saved for last, and it takes everything in me not to throw up on their shoes. I shake each hand with reverence, making sure to bow at the waist and shake with both hands, and show as much respect as I’m capable of.

I also hold my breath in attempts not to sneeze as their collective scents invade my nose at such close proximity.

It’s easy to tell they’re all wearing scent blockers, as I imagine is a constant necessity with scents as strong as theirs, since all of the nuances I’d normally be able to pick out easily are strangely absent. Still, they’re typical over-the counter Alpha-type blockers, not made to cater to the delicate and sensitive nose of an Omega like myself.

I’m sure they only smell themselves faintly, if they’re not all completely nose-blind to each other by now, but to me it’s like sticking my face directly in a tub of perfume. The lack of nuance to the scents only makes the sensation worse. It feels like my nose-hairs are burning.

When we turn around to head to our seats, Jae-Hwa subtly hands me a tissue. I toss her a grateful smile and delicately blow into it, careful not to dislodge any actual snot or make noise. It takes a couple tries, but the itchy feeling calms.

I allow gratefulness to overtake me as I discard the tissue in the nearest trashbin. Jae-Hwa doesn’t have nearly as sensitive a nose as I do, I know. She wouldn’t be able to manage so many teenage trainees so closely otherwise. But still, she nose my nose is on the stronger side, had remembered that little factoid about me, and prepared accordingly. I owe her more every second I spend in her presence.

The meeting goes smoothly, if slowly, for the most part. Production jargon I don’t yet understand is lobbed around, plans are made, and schedules penned. I look to Jae-Hwa in absolute panic the first time I see Stray Kid’s schedule, terrified and confused by the absolutely packed blocks of colors and words.

She just pats my thigh under the table and makes a point to clarify aloud that I’m only shadowing them during group and select unit schedules, and that ‘Schedules with my trainee are marked in light blue, correct?’

It’s immensely relieving to see that less than half of the contents of that monster calendar involve me.

There are no other hiccups that I need to be at all concerned about, and it’s clear that I was mostly here for the experience and to show my face. I’m more than okay with that, at this point. Jae-Hwa wouldn’t let me miss anything truly important, anyway.

Eventually it’s just me, Jae-Hwa, Stray Kids, and one of their managers left in the room. It had felt a bit claustrophobic when the room was full of people and information being lobbed at me at lightning speeds, but now there’s no buffer between me and the weighty gazes of the group of Alphas and Betas.

One would think my issues with the overwhelming scents would have left with the majority of the people producing it, but if anything Stray Kid’s scents feel more overpowering than ever. It’s like with less people crowding, they’ve unfurled. Like large cats taking up as much space as possible.

I can’t help the mental scoff I give at the image. Alphas.

Their scents are all over each other, intertwined in the way only very close and healthy packs that participate in lots of scenting can manage. I can’t really pick them apart from each other, but the collective evokes images of nature and adventure. It makes me restless, and my chest fills with an odd sort of longing.

I feel a bit foolish at the moment, actually. It was well known that Stray Kids was a very close pack, but somehow I’d still expected to be able to pick apart their scents and hadn’t done any research about it. Like having been in the company since before their debut would help me distinguish the scents of people I’d barely interacted with.

It’s my first time meeting people so very intertwined. My own family hadn’t been big on skinship, and I hadn’t much time for friends or dating since I left them. I feel a bit wrong-footed, like I’ve lost a sense I’ve always had, to not be able to tell them apart with just my nose.

Their manager, too, is lightly dosed in their collective scent, but it’s easy to tell it’s more from exposure than active scenting. He’s an Alpha as well, I can tell, and it’s easy to catch the fresh bergamot of him, along with a hint of tea under his scent blockers.

Or maybe just hot water, but it’s hard to know for sure under the combined might of Stray Kids’ scent. It’s relieving just to be able to tell that much.

It’s all very overwhelming, daunting in it’s enormity. It’s a force I’ll have to get used to over the next year, but for now I allow myself to seek shelter behind a wall of Jae-Hwa. She allows me my comforts for now, but I know I’ll be exposed before too long.

I’d seek out her softer omegan scent, try to refresh my nose and shelter from the storm, but she’s got those nice prescription blockers. The Omega type that applies as a cream over your scent glands and is customized to neutralize pheromones and scent compounds as you produce them. All I can get from her is laundry detergent and faint, lightly sweet, omega scent.

There’s a welling of displeasure from the collective scents across the room as I disappear from sight, but their blockers hold strong against the complexities in their scents and I can’t quite tell who it’s from.

I reckon it’s quite like trying to read the expression of someone with a mask on. It’s a bit socially off-putting, and I find myself floundering.

Once again, the director saves the day.

“I had one more thing I wanted to talk about, but it’s specifically a question for you boys,” She begins kindly. Her words bring everyone to focus where we’d all been drifting in our own thoughts.

The gaze of my seniors is so much heavier when combined with their attention.

Jae-Hwa pulls me out from behind her, like the traitor she is, and presents me to the group of Alphas and Betas. I cant help but fold into myself under their focus. Only a few of them are taller than me, and even then not by much, but I still feel as if they tower over me in this moment.

“This kid’s apartment burned down recently,” She informs them bluntly, patting my shoulder as she speaks. I watch shock ripple through them, and duck into myself a bit further, “And she’s staying in a hotel at the moment.”

Before the director can continue, there’s a spike of something sharp and metallic in the air, like lightning about to strike, and my head whips up to make direct eye-contact with Lee Know. I can almost taste copper at the back of my throat and feel static on my skin from the intensity of it.

Now that it’s been violently brought to my awareness, I can smell Lee Know’s heavy forest scent as a vaguely threatening undertone to the cacophony of the pack. Like dark towering trees and storms rolling in, it’s pervasive and heavy.

I still can’t tell exactly what the emotion behind the spike was, but his blockers, weak patches already struggling for their lives, can’t hide the negativity of it. Even if my nose wasn’t as sensitive a it was, anyone could’ve sensed that much from the way his scent darkened the room.

I’m further convinced by the way one of his packmates, Han, leans into his side soothingly. I can’t tell if it’s to comfort of restrain him, so I just press my lips into a thin smile when your eyes meet and lean into Jae-Hwa.

She’s clearly a badass and so continues like nothing happened at all.

“You boys recently moved into Pack housing, yes?” Jae-Hwa asks like it’s not public knowledge. Everyone knows they moved into a place that could hold them all about as soon as the ink on their Bond registry was dry.

She doesn’t wait for either their manager nor leader to respond before she continues, “I’ve heard have at least one spare room, and since the dorms for the trainees participating in the show won’t be ready for a few weeks yet, and it makes little sense for her to move into the regular dorms and right back out again, I was wondering if you wouldn’t put her up until we can get accommodations squared away.”

I spare myself a moment to be amazed at the way she implies this is a recent thing for me, instead of a weeks-long problem, before her request registers and I snap around to stare at her with wide, shocked, eyes.

“I- Director, no, that’s not...” I tug weakly at her sleeve as if to fill in for words I’m too flabbergasted to say.

It would be one thing if she’d asked them to squeeze me into their dorm when they still had one, especially when they’d all been split up among different apartments. It was another thing entirely to brazenly request them to open their Pack home to me.

Pack housing implies that you were done expanding your pack. That outsiders were no longer welcome. That the Pack was as large as it was going to be until babies got involved, and they’d settled into a space to suit the size they were.

It was a step of permanence, and while friends could certainly be welcome like they would be in any other home, inviting a stranger into that space was just asking for instincts to go haywire. For hindbrains to perceive threats and lash out. It was a recipe for stress at best, disaster in most cases.

Especially when the stranger being invited was an Omega.

Somehow, the group doesn’t react with disgust and rage like I expect them to. At least not outwardly. Personally, I wouldn’t have been able to tolerate even Jae-Hwa, arguably the person I trust the most right now, in my hotel room, let alone a pack space.

I can’t even den down in my hotel room, but still, even the thought of inviting her in sent my hackles rising.

The group defies your expectations though, simply exchanging glances and subtle gestures. A pointed nod from Han in Lee Know’s direction seems to make a poignant enough point, and the pack turns as one to face the director once more.

Bangchan offers the both of you a magnanimous smile that charmingly crinkles the corners of his eyes. “We’ll need to talk about it amongst ourselves first,” He starts, and you’re ready to accept the rejection with relief. The hotel was stressful and expensive, but honestly just fine for now. You didn’t need to be mucking around in someone’s Pack space.

“But I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.” He finishes, and I swear shock stops my heart for a second. I look at the whole group of them incredulously, waiting for someone to speak out against their leader, because I know they’re an Alpha group but surely at least one of them would have some objection to this?

Their instincts couldn’t be that different from mine, could they?

The unnamed manager ushers the group out while I’m frozen, citing some schedule or another they’re running late for. Bangchan promises to reach out to Jae-Hwa to discuss arrangements, and then they’re gone.

You hear faint murmurs and then a rising voice as they head down the hallway.

“If— for one— FUCKING night—!” Is all I hear before it fades out. I’d guess it was Lee Know, but admittedly I only really know his singing voice with any confidence, even after years in the same company. My heart sinks with thoughts of causing discord among such a close pack.

Jae-Hwa settles her hands firmly on my shoulders, jarring me from my stupor. Her gaze is sympathetic and knowing.

“Trust me kiddo,” She says, “They’re an Alpha-heavy pack. Very few of them even have Omegan family members. If they say it’s okay, It’ll be okay.”

I try my best to believe her as I smile and nod, but unease grips tightly at my heart as she leads me out of the room, hand on the small of my back, just as we’d entered it.

The touch still burns.

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This taglist is temporary while I ask y'all a question: Project: Stack The Deck will be a typical archive fic the way Soulmate Garden and Best Friend Protocol aren't - that means It'll be written as fancy strikes, and wildly out of order and likely in fragments. It'll probably be very rare that I have a full scene written out like this at the end of a writing session. So my question is - Do y'all want to be tagged for everything? I don't perma tag for anything but full chapter updates, which this is not, based on an old poll, but like. Do y'all want to be tagged for full scenes like this, just for first and final drafts, just for chapters and not scenes, like. How frequently do you want to be tagged and how complete would you like the chapter to be when you're tagged? If you don't know the rules for the archive, posts are Once every attempt (changes of a paragraph or more), Once every five drafts (small adjustments to wording or grammar), and Once every 1000 words added. pls lmk <3

@chancloud8 , @allenajade-ite , @thatgirlangelb

[pkg4mumtown]

I Bet You Look Good in Pink (On the Dancefloor)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Male!Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: You panicked and grabbed some poor stranger off the street to be your fake boyfriend to get your mom off your back. What could go wrong?

Content Warnings: Crack, fluff, meet cute, first kiss, first person pov, male reader, fake relationship

A/N: This is pure crack influenced by this guy I saw doing videos walking up to dudes saying “I’m out with my husband, say hi mom” and wanted to explore Hotch reacting to that while Rossi ran amok at the end. That’s it. That’s the fic. Enjoy!

Also available on AO3. I recommend having work skins on if you do, so you can see the social media and text skins.

I was set out on a brisk jog—more of a speed walk, who was I kidding—before work to prepare my mind for the day's stresses. All that went to hell in a handbasket when I felt my phone buzz and my earbuds start playing a jingle, which only meant that my mother was calling me. 

I’d been dodging her calls for weeks knowing she was asking whether or not I was bringing my “boyfriend” to my cousin's wedding. I had made the smart decision to tell my mom I was seeing someone—a total lie—thinking I could make several excuses about his absence and things would be okay, considering I didn’t see my mom as often as I should.

Then, my cousin just had to announce a wedding on short notice. 

I had never wanted someone to call off a wedding so badly in my life. My mother couldn’t resist meddling either and marked me down as having a plus one without consulting me first.

“Patience” and “understanding” were not words I would use to describe my reaction.

I groaned when I saw that it was a video call, too. Sighing heavily, I answered the phone and picked up the pace again, hoping the loud sounds of the city and my huffing and puffing would get her off the phone faster. Knowing her, I wouldn't be so lucky.

“Hey, Mom,” I breathed heavily, my feet pounding on the pavement. 

“Hi, honey, I wanted to talk to you about Vanessa's wedding.”

“Yea? What about it?” I asked nonchalantly barely able to hold in my labored breaths, looking forward rather than at the phone so I didn't trip and eat the pavement.

“You haven't double booked anything have you?” she asked, a wary tone to her voice, expecting me to cancel at the last minute.

“No, Mom. I didn't forget.”

“Then, your boyfriend is coming, right? I think it’s been long enough that I should meet him, sweetie,” she smiled on the other end. 

Honestly, she was right. I had told her about “him” about six months ago, being as vague as possible every time he was brought up.

My brain—on the other hand—had other ideas causing me to immediately panic, not knowing how to respond. If I told her I lied to her and that he wasn’t real or that we “broke up", she would be back to hounding me and trying to set me up with every man she met. If I made another excuse, she would be suspicious. I almost felt bad lying to her, but “getting the hint” was not one of her strong suits.

As my brain warred with itself, I spotted another man running just up ahead dressed in a dark t-shirt, shorts, and plain running shoes. He was slowing down as we approached a crosswalk with flashing red lights indicating that it wasn’t safe to cross. 

This might end up topping my list of idiotic plans, but—

“Yes, Mom. My boyfriend is coming,” I raised my voice slightly as I finally got to the crosswalk where the man was bouncing on his toes to stay warm. 

I noticed the vague glance he shot my way at my voice and presence, but that was the only acknowledgment I received.

He was kind of cute this close-up. His soft dark hair contrasted sharply with his light complexion. He was in his mid to late forties but clearly in excellent shape and by his stone-faced expression, a government worker like many people in this area.

“We’re actually finishing up our run, soon,” I stepped closer to him, meeting his hawk-like eyes with a pleading, pitiful expression. With reflexes I wasn’t aware I possessed, I switched the call to speaker and turned the phone toward him, “Say, ‘hi’, babe!”

The glare he gave me was a mix of incredulous confusion and wariness as he checked his surroundings like he was expecting someone to come out and attack him while I distracted him.

Definitely a government agent, then.

“Um,” he started cautiously. “Who are—"

I hurriedly tapped the mute button on the call, wanting to grab his wrist and plead like a child asking for sweets. I restrained myself, expecting that he would have me face down on the concrete in a second if I did. 

I probably wouldn’t even mind that.

“Hi, sorry,” I quickly spat my name out at him in my haste. “Please, play along. I’ll owe you my entire life, please,” I begged.

Was I being dramatic? Totally. But I was desperate to give her an actual face to get her off of my back.

One last glance around us and he relented, bending somewhat to be level with the phone’s camera. I tapped the mute button again.

“Sorry, Mom, his hearing is a little bad. Babe, say ‘hi’ to my mom,” I raised my voice, positioning myself so I was just in front of him and both of us fit in the frame.

I heard him slowly exhale behind me, then a soft smile spread over his face in the camera preview, “Hello, Ms...”

I felt him smack my back with the back of his hand, making me jump but I murmured her last name out of the corner of my mouth.

“Right, hello,” he smiled again. “I’m age—Aaron. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh, how handsome,” she winked and I felt my soul immediately leave my body. 

How childish would it be to launch my phone into the street right now?

“Yea, um, so—we're—” I started but was interrupted.

“Aaron, sweetheart, I love my son to death but his memory is awful. I hope he told you about his cousin’s wedding. I’d love to meet you there,” she interrupted me.

Aaron’s smile faded somewhat, probably internally panicking as much as I was.

“I should have stayed home,” I heard him murmur under his breath. “Uhm, no, but it’s been a pretty hectic couple of weeks for me, so it’s not entirely his fault,” Aaron covered smoothly, bringing a hand up to my shoulder and stepping closer.

Damn, he was good.

“You poor thing,” she cooed. “Well, I hope you can make it.”

“Of course, I’ll do my best.”

“Oh, and she changed the colors to pastel pink, so I hope that’s not too hard for you to come up with, honey.”

My jaw clenched. Of course, she changed the colors. Luckily, I had a navy blue suit that would go with the only pastel pink shirt I owned.

“I’ll make it work, Mom, thanks.”

I could feel Aaron glaring at me through the video preview, his fingertips digging into my shoulder. Like he was questioning every life choice that landed him in this present moment. 

I reached my hand back, fingers barely grazing the side of his neck as I looked back at him, “I think you have one.”

Aaron’s eyes flicked down to my lips and back to my eyes so quickly I almost missed it, “You would—uh—know better than me.” He sounded unfocused and dazed as he reacted to my movements.

“I think so,” I winked, pressing my lips to his stubbly chin and focusing back on the phone, seeing my mother’s eyes lit up with glee. “Anyway, Mom, I gotta go home and get ready for work. Love you.”

“Okay, have a great week, sweetie, I love you, too! It was nice to meet you, Aaron.”

“You as well,” he smiled, giving her a small wave before the call ended.

My face dropped as soon as the call was over, turning to face Aaron, “I am so sorry for that! I panicked and I’ll admit it was not my finest moment. And I’m especially sorry if that whole thing made you uncomfortable because I’m...you know...and I kissed—yea—uhm...I’m sorry.”

Aaron scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “It’s okay.” He shifted in place, looking at the people passing us rather than me, “I’m actually...bi? Is that the word?”

This man was getting better by the minute.

“Good enough,” I smiled.

The silence stretched between us again. Was it too late to run across the street and away from this silence? I glanced at the light as it turned back to red—the third one we’ve missed now.

“I’m—uh—sorry, too,” he finally said.

“Why?” I asked him, confused, “I trampled all over your morning.”

“I thought you were distracting me to—er—hurt me, rob me, ambush me...” he trailed off, looking just past me.

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up my throat and morphed into a full-bodied laugh, “Honey, please...look at me.”

Aaron’s shocked face slowly cracked, laughing with me finally. His shoulders relaxed a little, not as on edge as he was when I first approached him.

He had a beautiful smile, I was learning.

“What—uh—what day is that wedding?” he finally asked as our laughter settled down.

“Oh, you don’t actually have to go. I can make something up, really,” I waved him off. “I just needed to give her a face to give my claims some validation.”

Aaron shrugged, his arms flailing slightly, “My coworkers tell me I need to get out more, so...”

Oh.

“Well, in that case...” I unlocked my phone and checked the calendar to be absolutely sure lest my mother fry me, “It’s next month. The fifth. You have approximately twenty-five days.”

How was this my life right now?

“My schedule is—well it’s unpredictable, so I’ll let you know?” he cringed a little.

Government agent. Right. No wonder his posture was so good.

“And how were you planning on doing that?” I asked with a smirk.

He froze for a second, brain rebooting, “I was hoping I could get your number, actually,” he laughed shyly, looking down and patting his pockets to locate his phone.

He fumbled with the phone for a second and finally handed it to me. Pursing my lips, I laughed to myself as I typed my name in and put “boyfriend” with a heart in parenthesis before typing my number in. I handed it back to him, seeing the way his face flushed at the name I put in. 

“I’m serious, though, if you can’t or don’t want to just let me know. You’re in no way obligated.”

“Yeah, I will,” he nodded, making a move to continue his journey.

We both crossed the street, him breaking back out into a run and me a brisk-ish stroll as I got my music playing again. I caught him looking back a couple of times, making me wonder if he was challenging me to catch up or making sure I didn’t follow him home. A smile pulled across his face as he saw me start to speed up. As we reached the next intersection, I held my hand up in a wave as I turned left while he continued straight and crossed the street.

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Aaron POV

Aaron had been understandably wary of the man who approached him that morning. He had a dangerous job and had experienced more than enough trauma for one lifetime. 

He was ambushed. Just not like had expected.

All of a sudden, he was talking to a lady and gently touching a man he didn’t know and—

Uh.

Did he just kiss Aaron?

On his chin, but still.

He wasn't sure if he was conscious at that moment, except for the fire burning on his face.

Aaron made it home and to Quantico in a haze. He sat at his desk, staring at the phone in his hand like it might suddenly burst into flames. A phone number, a name, and an invitation. Nothing more. Nothing less.

It had been hours since the incident, and yet, the warmth of a stranger’s lips on his cheek still lingered like an unresolved case in his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was the sheer audacity and absurdity of the encounter or the way he had simply…gone along with it. The sound of the stranger’s voice still echoed—quick, clever, and just a little desperate.

"Babe, say ‘hi’ to my mom."

And Aaron—fucking—Hotchner, a man trained in several facets like terrorism, law, and behavioral analysis, had folded like a damn lawn chair.

Which is why he now found himself in a situation far more dangerous than being ambushed in the middle of a morning run—standing in Penelope Garcia’s office.

Penelope turned in her chair and blinked at him, fingers frozen over her keyboard assessing him.

“Sir,” she said slowly, looking him up and down like he had just walked in wearing a clown wig. He certainly felt like it. “Hi, sir. Hotch. Uh, sir. What… are you doing here? Do we have a case?”

Aaron didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he set a paper down on her desk where he’d written the man’s number and slid it toward her with two fingers. “Can you run this for me?” He cleared his throat. “Unofficially.”

Her eyes flicked from the paper to his face, then back to the paper. Then back to his face.

She gasped, “Oh my God. Is this—” She clapped her hands over her mouth, muffling an excited squeal. “Are you asking for a background on a new lady friend?”

Aaron’s jaw tightened, teeth grinding under the pressure, “Garcia.”

“You are.” Her voice was an octave higher, her whole body vibrating with barely contained glee. “Oh, my stars, this is my favorite day—”

“It's not—” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not like that.”

Garcia wiggled her fingers at him. “Oh, no, no, no, sir, you do not get to walk into my office, ask me to dig into some poor lady's entire life, and then pretend like this isn’t about romance.”

Aaron exhaled sharply.

There was no easy way out of this now.

“He approached me this morning,” he admitted. “Called me his boyfriend—to his mother over the phone—and I…played along. His mother invited me to his cousin’s wedding.”

Garcia gawked at Aaron, completely glossing over the fact that Aaron had implied a man. He shouldn’t be surprised that she didn’t care, “You played along?”

He glanced away, embarrassed, “It was—unexpected.”

She pointed at Aaron accusingly. “You liked it.”

“I did not.”

“You so did.”

“Garcia—”

She cackled, typing the number in furoiusly and bringing up several windows, “Well, now I have to know who this mystery man is. I would have never guessed, boss man, but I can't judge a book by it’s cover. Oh, what if he’s a spy? Or an undercover agent? Or—”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a scam artist,” Aaron muttered.

She hummed, making a tsk with her tongue and teeth, “Doubt it. Cute guys don’t run scams, they just break hearts.”

Hotch gave her a flat look, “That’s how you—”

“Not a word,” she held a finger up. “Give me five minutes.”

And just like that, Garcia’s fingers were flying over the keyboard. The glow of her multiple monitors flashed across her face as she scrolled through the man’s life with the skill of a seasoned technical analyst and the enthusiasm of a gossip columnist.

Aaron crossed his arms, exhaling sharply at her wild glee, “Anything?”

“Oh, my dear sir, I have everything.” Garcia’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh my God.”

Aaron's posture stiffened, leaning in closer to the screen. Dread filled his stomach at what she could have found, “What?”

“He’s adorable!”

Aaron immediately frowned, he was too old for this shit, “That’s not relevant.”

“Oh, but it is,” Penelope turned one of the monitors slightly so he could see. “Look at this. Your mystery man is a dog dad—and look at this cutie pie of a pup! He posts pictures of her in cute sweaters—sir, he’s a sweater-on-dogs guy.”

Aaron barely glanced at the screen. “And?”

Garcia gasped, “Oh, and? And? That means he has a soft heart, sir. That means he is a man of culture. Also, look at him.”

Hotch did not look at the screen. He refused actually.

Garcia, however, had no such reservations. She clicked on another post. “He hikes! Look at him in the mountains with that perfect lighting—who is taking these pictures, wow? Oh, that’s so unfair. Pretty people should not have good lighting and cute dogs.”

Aaron exhaled through his nose, long and slow. “He sure was struggling to catch up to me today.”

“He strolls, sir. Not everyone runs marathons.”

“Garcia.”

She ignored him, clicking another post, “Ooh, he bakes. He’s posted about trying new recipes. There’s a caption—‘Husband material 😏😉’.” She turned to him, eyes wide with revelation. “This is so fate.”

He finally looked at her, doing his best to look unimpressed but he was slowly softening to the man, too, “Fate?”

She pointed at the screen. “Sir, this man makes baked goods, is absolutely adorable, and randomly fake-dated you? That is the universe working in real-time.”

Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose. Why had she put so much stress on “you”? He was a catch, too.

“Oh, wait, what’s this?” She clicked on another post and let out yet another squeal, “He dressed up as a cowboy for Halloween. Sir, I swear to you—”

“I’m leaving.”

Garcia lunged forward, grabbing his wrist before he could retreat. A playful glare had her releasing him instantly. Still, Garcia looked up at him, eyes twinkling, “He’s precious.”

Aaron sighed, rubbing his temple. “Did you find anything that would suggest he’s dangerous?”

Garcia grinned. “Only to your heart, sir.”

Hotch turned on his heel and left.

Garcia called after him, sing-song, “So, are you going to call him or what?”

Aaron was not going to dignify that with a response. He had just made it to the door when Garcia made more excited yelps and beckoned him back.

“Oh, oh, wait, wait, sir, come back!”

With a sigh, he turned, “Hmm?”

Garcia spun one of the monitors toward him, biting back a grin, “So, uh. You remember when he mentioned a wedding?”

Aaron frowned, “Yes?”

“It’s real,” She clicked on a recent post. It was a screenshot of a text conversation:

Garcia wheezed, “Sir, you are his manifested date.”

Hotch stared at the screen, resisting the urge to chuckle at his ridiculous antics. It was good to know he was actually that awkward online, too.

“…I see. To be fair, he did give me a choice.”

Garcia tilted her head, watching him carefully. “Perfect, you could just text him and say you’re not going. Or—” Her smile turned devious. “You could meet up and—you know—practice before the real thing.”

Aaron gave her a deadpan look.

She beamed.

Without a word, Aaron turned and walked out but sighed, stopping the door from shutting all the way with his hand. He poked his head back in, “Thanks, Penelope.”

MC POV

I honestly, didn’t expect Aaron to text me. It had been about a week since I ran into him. Throughout that time, I hadn’t seen him out and about any other morning. So, I couldn’t tell if he’d been avoiding me, we were completely missing each other, or he was just busy.

I chose to believe he was busy because boy would I not mind seeing him and those perfect hands again.

My thoughts were put at ease when I got a text ten days after I ran into him, smack on a Saturday morning.

I had no idea what to reply as I stared at my phone with a puppy chewing on my sweater sleeves. 

“Mochi, no,” I absentmindedly corrected her. “Daddy needs to think.”

While I thought about a response, I saved his contact to my phone under “Aaron (Mom's Fav)”.

I could practically feel his exasperation through the phone. But I did hope he thought I was somewhat funny, too.

My heart felt like it was ready to jump out of my throat as I read his text. Tonight? Like TONIGHT?

“Mochi, come here, baby. I need support,” I dragged the over-excited puppy into my lap and hugged her to my lap with one hand while the other held my phone. 

What do I even say to that? Deflecting with humor sounded like a safe bet.

Aaron’s address was sent shortly after and I wasn't surprised to see that it was only a couple blocks north of mine in the direction he ran the day we met. I threw my head back on my couch, giddy to see Aaron again. My brain finally caught up with what that meant. I was going to be alone with the man, with only Mochi as a chaperone and she couldn’t care less about who I embarrassed myself in front of. I had nothing to hide behind, no buffer, no screen, no over-excited mother to parry off of. 

Fuck. Why was I like this?

Then I realized I had a lot of work to do and leaped off the couch to make him a study guide. I had pictures of the important people: my parents, siblings, bride and groom, and some assorted aunts and uncles. I wouldn't subject him to memorizing the kids because—let's be honest—they didn't care about the old folks anyway. It wasn’t too long of a list, only about three pages that I printed out to make it easy for him.

Once I had that sorted, I thought about what to bring. Can you go wrong with brownies? Actually...I’m sure you could, but it was the most practiced thing I knew how to make without messing up considering the state of my head.

The time snuck up on me quickly and I frantically took the brownies out of the oven to cool before running to my room to get ready with Mochi hot on my heels. She guarded the shower, attacking my towels and shower mat as I hurriedly washed myself. Doing my best to not trip over her and slip on the slick floor—medical emergencies were not ideal right now—I ran back to my room to towel off and get dressed.

“Ok, little girl, what color are we feeling today?” 

I laid out a couple different collars for her, which she hopped excitedly around and chose one to attack. Lilac it was. 

“Should we match?” she gave me a beady-eyed stare, focused only on gaining possession of the collar again. “You don’t give two shits.”

I fastened the collar around her neck and tugged a matching sweater over her, taking the time to gush over how adorable she looked.

I surprisingly found a passable first-date shirt that sort of matched her and finished getting ready. In my haste, I nearly forgot the small tray of brownies as I fed Mochi and packed a couple of toys to distract her. Nearly screaming, I covered the tray and put it by the door with the other stuff so I wouldn't forget.

I was a wreck the entire drive to Aaron’s. For no reason, too. As much as I teased him, he was right. 

This wasn’t a date. But, he was hot and I was me.

I located his apartment with relative ease and waited nervously outside with an impatient puppy at my side and a glass tray under my arm digging into my ribs. His cheat sheet lay balanced atop the foil. Making a nervous whine in the back of my throat, I finally knocked with my free hand that held Mochi’s leash.

The door swung open, Aaron on the other side with a dish towel over his shoulder in a dark polo. I stared at the skin past the unbuttoned top buttons, completely missing whatever he said to me.

“—need help?” I caught at the end of his sentence.

“Oh, uh, yea sort of,” I winced as I shifted the tray, which he gladly took from me, noticing the paper on top as he ushered me inside and shut the door behind me. 

“You can let her off, it’s fine. I closed all the doors already,” he nodded to where Mochi was eagerly wanting to sniff every surface she could reach.

Wow, he’s perfect.

I unclipped her leash, laughing at the way she made a beeline for Aaron’s jeans, nipping at the material before skittering over to his sofa. I tossed the toys I brought with me to the floor, so she would leave his belongings alone.

“This is...a good look on you,” I smiled nervously, taking in the domesticity of his clothes. My bravado over text completely flew out the window.

“Mm, I was married once upon a time,” He smirked, turning back to the stove.

“Was?”

“Yea, we found out I was married to my work more.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Aaron just shrugged, “It was a long time ago.”

I chewed my lip, desperate to change the topic. My eyes landed on the papers I brough with me.

“Oh! I brought this so we could go over my family.”

I picked up the papers and met him near the stove, leaning against the counter where there was free space he wasn't utilizing. He smiled softly in my direction as he cooked, nodding and stirring.

“Go for it,” he nodded.

I was surprised he wanted to start now while he was busy cooking but went ahead anyway. I would show him the picture, tell him their name and relation, and move on. He listened diligently, repeating names and making sure they were pronounced correctly before moving on. His eyes moved over the pictures like they were calculating and cataloging every little detail of their faces.  He would lean in for a closer look at the pictures, standing much closer and making me stumble over my words. My face would feel like it was on fire.

Aaron didn’t comment on it.

He was weirdly good at it, remembering faces and recalling details from short-term memory.

I wanted to ask how but didn’t want to intrude more than he was allowing me. My big mouth couldn’t be stopped, though. 

“Wh—,” I started, my voice hitching when he moved into my space and grabbed something on the other side of me. His arm wrapped around me, chest scraping mine as he looked at me expectantly to keep talking. “—wh—uhm…hmm,” I raised my eyebrows, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly under his gaze.

He sighed with an amused smile, “You can’t act like this every time I touch you at the wedding, boyfriend.”

I cleared my throat, blinking rapidly, “Act like what?”

Aaron shook his head, adding the item he grabbed and stirring briefly. He gave me a pointed look, “You freeze up and stutter.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You just did.”

Aaron set his large spoon down and crowded my space, “If you’re nervous about being close to me, then you need to get used it.” His hands framed my hips on the counter behind me, “Touch me.”

I nearly choked on my own saliva.

“I—I’m sorry?”

Aaron was unfazed, “If we’re going to sell this, you can’t tense up and shy away every time I stand next to you. So, touch me. Now.”

I stared at him, his brown eyes boring into mine with long lashes framing them. 

He’s so pretty.

I raised my hand up and pressed a finger to his chest. His very firm, very nice chest that stretched the fabric of his polo.

“Not like that,” he sighed, taking my wrist and guiding my hand more firmly to his chest.

Oh.

Brain.exe has stopped working.

I swallowed, pressing my palm more confidently against him and looking just past his head. Aaron tilted his head, purposely catching my gaze again. Picking up my free hand, I rested it on his bicep, where his shirt met his skin. 

“So—uh,” I tried to think at the same time, gently squeezing the muscle and sliding my hand around to the back of his arm. “You have a really good memory.”

“Mhm.”

“Where do you work?” I finally asked.

“For the DOJ,” he answered automatically.

“Got it, top secret,” I laughed.

He dropped his head sheepishly, “Sorry. It’s kind of an automatic answer for people I just met.” 

He lifted his head up, smiling and moving a hand to my lower back. I fought the jump that threatened to move my body and lost, tensing just a little.

“I work for the FBI,” he finished.

“That makes so much more sense,” I laughed, sliding my hand up from his chest to his shoulder.

I licked my lip as his head tilted away from my hand. 

An invitation.

Slowly, my hand made its way to his neck. His eyes fluttered shut as my fingers slipped around the back of his neck while my thumb brushed just below his ear.

“Good,” he hummed with his eyes still closed, helping my confidence just enough since I was no longer under his watchful gaze.

“This is so stupid, why am I nervous? I literally kissed your face on a whim in front of my mother.”

Aaron shrugged, “You tell me.”

Frankly, I did know. I was legitimately attracted to him beyond this whole fake dating bullshit.

He still stared, expecting an answer.

“Oh, you want me to say it out loud?”

“Yea.”

“Well, I—”

“Look at me.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

Looking directly at him, I continued, “I think I’m just actually attracted to you and all of my confidence over text goes out the window when that happens. I don’t have anything to hide behind, you know?”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Would be hard to sell if we didn’t find each other attractive.”

Wait. 

We?

Aaron leaned forward.

I held my breath.

His lips touched my cheek, pressing a soft kiss there before straightening up and going back to the food before it burned.

My cheek was on fire.

He found me attractive, too?

Dinner was a little easier, reviewing my family again to make sure things were sticking with him. Mochi had come over at some point to chew on my shoelaces as we talked. Aaron picked her up, having finished his food first, and let her chew on his arm with her little dagger teeth. As soon as I finished, I grabbed his plate and took it to the sink—which he protested.

“You’re babysitting, it’s the least I can do,” I slapped his hand away.

Aaron kept me company instead, leaning against the counter with Mochi in his arms. We diligently went over our backstory, how we met, our first date, etcetera—knowing full well that my mother would ask every single question she could think of. Whether it was meant to be private or public.

Mochi eventually wiggled out of his grasp, running over to one of her toys, snagging it, and doing laps around the couch.

Aaron smiled as he watched her, then turned to take the wet dishes from my hands to dry them. My fingers tingled as his own fingers brushed mine, but I kept my cool and he noticed with a proud nod. 

“See? You’re doing better already.”

I roll my eyes, watching him push off the counter to put the dishes away. I turned the water off, busy drying my hands when I felt two hands come to my hips with Aaron’s breath against my shoulder. His body heat was plastered against my back. I was proud of myself for not tensing up, instead waiting for him to do something while I placed my damp hands over his as his hands met at the front of my hips.

“I’m assuming you know how to dance?” He murmured.

“Yes, I know how to dance at a wedding. I know you’re out of practice and all but this is not how you do that,” I laughed.

“Just making sure you wouldn’t jump,” he muttered, his nose brushing the shell of my ear and his lips skimming the back of my neck.

“I’ve calmed down a little, okay?” I rolled my eyes, turning to face him.

I gripped his upper arms, his arms still wrapped around me, and slid them up his shoulders until they could meet around his neck.

“Can I try something?” I asked.

He seemed to already know, eyes half-lidded and already staring at my mouth, “Go ahead."

I leaned in, pressing my lips to his gently, separating only to come back and press a little harder. Aaron’s hips closed the gap between us, arms pulling me close at the same time.

This had to be heaven.

My hand cupped the back of his head, eagerly bringing him down as my lips parted. The tip of his tongue flicked out at my bottom lip, nearly making me whine in the back of my throat. The friction of our pants did not help in that department.

I pulled back; the kiss having been much briefer than it felt. Aaron’s mouth chased mine, barely able to mutter, “Again,” before his tongue was licking my mouth open.

A moan ripped from my throat as his tongue skimmed the hypersensitive skin of the roof of my mouth. The shiver I fought made me grip him tighter and I had a vague thought about how far he was willing to take this as I felt the unmistakable brush of his hardness against mine. I pulled back, letting my hands drop to his chest to create some space.

His lips were swollen, eyes a little dark, but he was otherwise annoyingly calm. I was flustered, the line between real and fake being blurred so intensely in that moment.

“This might be a problem.”

He didn’t have to look down to know exactly what we both felt, “Only if you make it one.”

I shook my head, smacking his arm and squeezing myself out from between him and counter, “You’re insufferable.”

“You kissed me first,” he followed, stopping to grab two brownies out from the covered tray.

He followed me further down the counter, handing me one of the brownies and watching me with a vaguely amused look. I took a bite just to give myself something to do, staring at the floor and murmuring my thanks.

We just made out. We barely know each other. This is insane.

“You’ve been giving me an out this entire time but It looks like you might need one,” he took a slow bite of his own, clearly in no rush. “You’re thinking too hard about this.”

“You just kissed me stupid, give me a second.”

“You still kissed me first.”

“Are you seriously not letting that go?”

“No.”

He was so fucking smug. I hated and loved it at the same time. It made me want to kiss him again. I shoved the last of the brownie in my mouth, finally meeting his eyes and swallowing thickly.

“So, at the wedding, we’re not kissing like that.”

“Obviously, unless you plan on scarring your family,” he exhaled, sounding like a laugh. He crowded my space again, my brain going into overdrive at his heat and smell. “You specified ‘at the wedding’, which I find interesting.”

Aaron’s eyes flicked down to my mouth, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to my chocolate-flavored lips, then another, and another before pulling back. My eyes were still closed as he spoke, relishing the contrast of his gentle movements versus the intensity of before.

“We act normal. Just like that,” he smiled, grabbing another brownie and bringing it to my mouth.

“You’re way too chill about this,” I scoffed but took it from his hands.

“It’s more fun than I expected,” he shrugged. “Plus...I did mean it.”

I tilted my head questioningly.

“About the attraction. I was cautious of course last week because of my job, but I don’t know. After making sure you weren't a threat…I—” He paused, trying to figure out his next words, “You’re unfortunately magnetic.”

“So, what you’re saying is that my incessant text flirting worked?”

“Only a little,” he joked. “The cowboy outfit was the kicker for me.”

“Oh my God, stop!” I covered my face.

“What I’m saying is,” he laughed, prying my hands away from my face, “if you’re amenable of course—that maybe it doesn't have to be entirely fake.”

I feigned thinking, squinting one eye in thought, “So, this was a first date?”

“I think it was about three dates wrapped in one,” he pursed his lips.

“Well, I don’t put out on the third date, so it might be my time to leave,” I teased.

He just grinned, swooping in and claiming my lips. I decided then that the brownies tasted much better with him.  I kissed him as fervently as I needed air to breathe, gasping as his hips ground softly into mine purposely. 

It felt so good.

So good that by the fourth time it happened, I had to remove myself from him, “I was—mm—I was serious about the third date thing—as-as eager as I might be.”

Aaron nodded in understanding, chest heaving.

“And if you were serious before, I just-I just want to make sure, you know? If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” he smiled down at me, his reddened lips still so inviting but I needed to go before my resolve crashed and burned.

“I should go before it gets out of hand,” I smiled sadly, “but study up and keep those,” I pointed at the brownies. “Take them to work or something.”

“That’s probably for the best,” he cringed a little as he glanced down at the unruly bulge in his jeans. “You’re definitely not freaking out anymore,” he pointed out smugly.

I made some kind of noise. A flustered scoff? Panicked laugh? A dignified, manly squeak? I didn't know but I did know that if I stayed here any longer, we were either ending up in bed or I was leaving with soiled pants.

“Shut up,” I murmured, a smirk playing at my lips. “Mochi, it’s time to go home!” I called the puppy, leaning over and seeing her curled up on top of an afghan thrown over Aaron’s couch. 

I clapped my hands together, her ears perking up as she stretched. Aaron didn't try to stop me as I gathered my belongings, just leaning back against the counter looking completely satisfied with himself. He met me at the door, opening it as I carried the sleepy puppy.

“Drive safe,” he said casually, voice warm and comforting. Before I could walk out completely, his fingers pinched the center of my shirt, guiding me backwards and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. Then obnoxiously, “See you soon, boyfriend.”

“Good night, sweetheart,” I sassed back, running my shoulder straight into the doorframe on my way out.

-

Luckily, they had the shirt in his size and it came in a couple days before the wedding.

I rushed up to his apartment door, fully dressed for the wedding with the pink shirt in hand. The wedding wasn't far from here and it was still an hour before we needed to be there. I knocked frantically on the door, met with a still damp Aaron from the shower. 

"Oh, I could get used to that sight," I commented appreciatively, looking at his bare chest and taking my sunglasses off. 

"Are you sure it wasn't too much?" he asked about the shirt

"Hush, go get ready," I pushed him away by the chest.

He took advantage, tugging my arm to him so I would stumble forward into him. His hands grasped my hips immediately, lips finding mine easily in all the movement. 

"Aaron," I murmured trying to get him moving. "You're wet."

"Mhm," he smiled into the kiss. “Just getting some practice in before showtime.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

He finally let me go and took the shirt, shaking it out and nodding as he felt the material between his fingers.

When he came out of the room fully dressed, my jaw was on the floor looking at his form in a fitted navy suit. We were fucking matching.

"You are feeding my mother, I swear," I laughed. "We look like we're about to take engagement photos."

A satisfied smirk stretched over his face at my admiration. He strode forward but stopped short.

"Where's Mochi?" He frowned.

"Oh, she would cause mayhem. My neighbor is watching her."

"You trust your neighbor with her?"

"You're so perfect," I gushed, wanting to squeeze his face. Cute aggression, I swear. "Out the door, please," I waved him toward the front door.

I didn't know how I convinced him to let me drive, but he luckily backed off as soon as I started ranting about his alpha male need to control everything and that he probably took over driving everywhere at work.

"Just be a good little passenger princess," I settled my hand on his thigh as I took off.

"I don't always drive," he muttered under his breath.

"Somehow, I severely doubt that."

The country club was a short drive, allowing us to arrive fifteen minutes early before the actual wedding ceremony was due to start. We entered the country club, following the signs for the wedding outside. The reception would follow indoors. Several signs along the way instructed guests to turn their phones off, which Aaron hesitated to do.

"Just put it on silent or vibrate. They don't want all the aunties' phones in the photographers shots," I touched his wrist, seeing him contemplate. "If you're on call just do vibrate."

"I'm not technically, I just don't want to miss a call if they do. It's a little unpredictable."

"Whatever you do, do it fast," I wound my arm around his as I spotted my mother among my family.

I heard Aaron clear his throat and shove his phone in his pocket, plastering an award winning smile on his face. 

“Oh, sweetie, you're here!” My mother ran up to me, nearly stumbling in her heels.

“Woah, careful,” I lunged, holding my hands out to catch her but Aaron was faster, grabbing her hands and stopping her forward momentum.

“Aaron, honey, how sweet are you?” she gushed, holding onto his forearms. “It's so nice to finally meet you.”

Aaron and I were dragged around to my family and he—unsurprisingly—remembered all of the information I had fed him. Throughout the ceremony, Aaron had his arm wrapped around me, hand resting on my lower back. It was strange being here with someone after expecting to be here by myself, but as I leaned my head on his shoulder I was glad it was Aaron I picked off the street. He caught me looking at him, giving me a soft smile and kissing my temple.

The ceremony was blissfully short as the afternoon sun started to heat up. I just about dragged Aaron inside after, eager to not sweat through this light-colored shirt. 

The reception started off without a hitch. Aaron offered to drive while I had a few drinks—who was I to decline such an offer—and dancing commenced while we waited for the food.

Aaron begrudgingly danced with my mother—only to slow ones per his request—but he kept his awkwardness at being interrogated hidden well. When it was my turn to dance with my fake boyfriend, I did so happily, not one to complain about being close to Aaron. 

Aaron’s hand was warm on my lower back as we swayed to the music. His thumb brushed small, lazy circles along my spine, and I was very much not immune to it.

"You're suspiciously quiet," I teased, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. "Having fun?"

"Something like that," he said, lips twitching in amusement.

"You're thinking about work, aren’t you?"

"No," he replied, then smirked. "I'm thinking about the conversation I just had with your mother."

I groaned, "Oh God. Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not," Aaron said, but the glint of humor in his eyes gave him away.

I gave his shoulder a light, playful shove. "Tell me."

He hummed, swaying us slightly to the left as another couple passed by. unable to resist, he pressed a quick kiss to my lips and continued speaking, "She asked when we were having kids."

I almost tripped over my own feet. My hand tightened on his bicep as I choked out, "She asked you what?"

"When we were having kids," he repeated, perfectly calm.

My mouth opened and closed, my brain short-circuiting. I finally sputtered out a laugh, "Jesus Christ, she didn't even ease into it?"

"Not even a little," he confirmed.

I tipped my head back with a groan, "Okay, well, the real question is—which one of us is gonna carry the baby to term?"

His lips twitched. "Hmm. Probably you."

"Excuse me?" I gave his shoulder a scandalized smack. "Why me?"

"You've got the instincts for it," Aaron said, voice low and teasing.

I blinked. My jaw dropped, "Did you just insinuate that I'm Mochi's mother? Because she knows damn well I'm her daddy."

Aaron’s shoulders shook with restrained laughter, "I'm just saying. You hover. You told me you checked her paws for three days straight when she yelped after stepping on a leaf."

"That’s called responsible pet ownership, Aaron. She’s just a baby."

"Mhm,” His thumb traced another slow circle against my back, and I absolutely did not shiver. 

Nope, not at all.

We were both grinning like idiots when my mom passed by again, shooting us a look that said: You’re next.

Aaron leaned closer, voice low in my ear, "She seemed pretty convinced we're soulmates."

"Oh God. We are never gonna live this down."

"Probably not," he agreed.

"You're enjoying this way too much."

"I really am," he murmured, then kissed my temple.

I rested my forehead on his chest, laughing so hard I almost missed his hand tightening just slightly on my waist.

It was inevitable that I would have to run to the bathroom after several alcoholic beverages. I swayed slightly as I washed my hands, grinning at my own reflection. My face was warm, appearance slightly disheveled from dancing with Aaron, and my smile wouldn't go away—not that I wanted it to. I’d spent the better part of the afternoon glued to Aaron’s side while my family peppered him with questions. He’d taken it like a champ, even dancing with some of my aunts before my mother would steal him back, all while keeping his arm casually draped around me like we’d done this a million times.

Honestly, he was too good at this. I was beginning to suspect he actually enjoyed the chaos. 

As I stepped back into the reception hall, the music thumped under my feet, mingling with the sound of clinking glasses and laughter. I scanned the crowd for Aaron’s broad shoulders, but before I could find him, my mom’s voice sliced through the noise.

"Who the hell are you, and why are you taking my son’s boyfriend?"

My heart just about stopped, what the fuck?

I turned toward the commotion and froze. Across the room, Aaron stood stiffly near the entrance with a vaguely exasperated expression, one I saw a handful of times on our date. My mother had one hand on her hip, the other gesturing toward a very well-dressed group of strangers attempting to pull Aaron toward the door.

"Ma'am," the oldest of the group spoke to my mother, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I assure you, we come in peace."

"You're not answering the question," my mom snapped.

Oh, mom. 

"He’s my ex," the man blurted out without missing a beat. His voice dropped into something heavier, "And I’ve come to win him back."

The entire room went silent. I swore someone actually gasped.

Aaron’s jaw twitched as his eyes found mine across the room. He looked annoyed, amused, and frustrated all at the same time.

"Your...ex?" my mom repeated, voice pitched with disbelief.

The man sighed, bowing his head like he was carrying the weight of an old, familiar pain. 

"Yes. We were once...so much more," He lifted his eyes to the ceiling with a wistful expression, voice trembling just enough to sound authentic. "I gave him my heart, but he belonged to the world. And now, seeing him here..." He placed a hand over his chest. "It's like I’ve been wandering through a desert of loneliness only to find an oasis I no longer deserve."

Someone near me whispered, "That’s so beautiful."

My mom’s jaw slackened. "I...I don’t know what to say."

He continued, "Sometimes, the greatest act of love is letting go." He cast a mournful glance toward Aaron, "Even if it means watching the only man who ever understood me walk away with someone else." 

A sniffle echoed from the corner. I glanced over and saw my cousin Vanessa—the bride—dabbing her eyes with a cocktail napkin.

I nearly fell over at the absurdity of it all.

"And these people?" my mom asked, voice cracking slightly as she gestured to the rest of the group.

The youngest man in the group awkwardly rose his hand, "We're, um..."

“We were in an polyamorous relationship—with Aaron,” a dark-haired woman spoke up. 

A fit man with a shadow of a beard—damn he was hot, too—hid a laugh behind his hand while hiding his face behind the dark-haired woman. 

My mother did not look impressed.

Meanwhile, Aaron stood there like a hostage, shoulders rigid and lips pressed into a thin line. I knew that look—he wore it when I ambushed him on the street—his I am using every ounce of my patience right now face.

I made my way toward the group just as my mom turned back to the older man.

"Listen here, buddy," she snapped, poking him in the chest. "I don’t care how much you still love him. He’s here with my son, and you’re not going to ruin this by dragging him off for some last-ditch romantic gesture."

Rossi gave her a deeply sympathetic look, "I—we just want to beg for another chance, ma'am."

The crowd melted.

Someone whispered, "That’s love."

Another person sobbed openly into their champagne flute.

By the time I reached Aaron's side, the tension had shifted. My mom was still skeptical, but several of my cousins were openly swooning at the spectacle.

I gave the crowd a tense smile as I approached, resting my hand on Aaron's upper arm and leaning in to his ear and whispering, “What the fuck is going on?”

The older man gave me a nod, lowering his voice, "We hate to break up the party, kid, but we need Aaron. Urgent case."

"Right," I said, suddenly more sober. He was needed, I could text him later.

The team ushered Aaron through the door to the sound of faint applause from the wedding guests.

I stood there, shaking my head at what the hell just transpired.

My mother actually wiped her eyes and sighed, "I'm so sorry, honey, I tried to stop them. I didn't realize he had so many partners before you.”

“Mom, those were his coworkers picking him up for an urgent issue.”

"Oh, sweetie," she said, patting my cheek. "You just don’t understand modern relationships. 

Later that night I was sprawled over my couch, my mother having driven me home as I had a few more drinks to make up for Aaron’s absence. My guest room was prepared ahead of time, thankfully. 

I groaned, loosening my belt lazily, still in my suit. I had gotten Mochi from my neighbor, needing my baby to ease the sing of Aaron’s depsrture. She lay across my lap, belly-up and snoring. My mom sat in my recliner, a glass of wine in hand now that she could decompress from the wedding.

“It was such a beautiful day,” she mused. “Until Aaron didn’t come back after that discussion with his exes,” she grumbled.

“Mom…” I groaned into a pillow. “Mom, they’re not his exes, they’re his team at work. They were messing with you.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, not sounding the slightest bit convinced.

The TV hummed in the background, low enough for us to ignore until I heard a familiar voice break through our conversation.

“…we were able to quickly apprehend the suspect and bring an end to these tragic events."

My mom gasped, leaning forward, "Oh, honey! Isn't that Aaron?"

I sat up so fast Mochi nearly flopped off my lap, and sure enough—there he was on the news, standing in front of a sheriff’s station with a microphone in his face. Same pink shirt. Same navy suit. Same faintly irritated expression.

"I told you he was working," I muttered, running a hand down my face. “All of a sudden you love him again,” I rolled my eyes.

"—ultimately, the case was resolved after it was determined that the suspect was, in fact, the sheriff," Aaron said, voice monotone and precise. "He left his own boot prints at three of the crime scenes and, when confronted, confessed almost immediately."

There was an awkward pause as reporters scribbled notes.

"Wait," one asked, "so it...was just the sheriff the whole time?"

"Yes," Aaron said.

"And he...admitted it right away?"

"Yes," Aaron repeated, slower this time. His jaw twitched in annoyance.

"So," the reporter pressed, "you flew in from Quantico...for that?"

The muscle in Aaron’s jaw jumped again, "Yes."

I barked out a laugh.

The camera zoomed out as Aaron stepped away from the microphones. His team followed closely behind, the blonde agent talking with the older agent animatedly. The last shot before the feed was cut off was Aaron rubbing his temples.

I shook my head and stood, scooping Mochi up under one arm, "I'm going to bed."

"Tell Aaron I said ‘hi’ next time you talk to him!"

"Mm-hmm." I carried Mochi toward my bedroom, but halfway there, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I smiled, tucking my phone away again and held Mochi tighter. 

I called back down the hallway, “Aaron says ‘hi’.”

“What a sweetheart. I really do like him, honey,” she called back.

“Yeah, me, too, Mom.”

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Knot in Time | Chapter 00 Chapter 00 |  Blurb⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Knowledge of EPIC: The Musical isn't technically needed; this can be read with just common knowledge of Greek mythology.

❝Stay.❞

It was a whisper, barely spoken, but it hit like a blade to the ribs.

Your breath shuddered.

His eyes glistened, unshed tears pooling at the edges, his emotions raw and unmasked.

❝Stay by my side,❞ he breathed, his voice cracking. ❝For the rest of time.❞

Your fingers twitched at your sides.

You shouldn't hesitate.

You'd spent your existence moving forward without question, without pause; always knowing what must be done.

But here, in the silence of the Loom, with his hands pressed to your skin, with his plea hanging between you like an offering, you realized—

You'd never had a choice before.

Fate wasn't something you chose.

It was something that is.

Yet here was Telemachus, asking you, the one who wields the shears, the one who had ended lives without question, to defy everything you are—

To choose him.

..... ... ..... ━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━ ..... ... .....

To cut a thread is simple.

To leave one uncut is chaos.

But for the first time in eternity, you don't care.

You were born to sever lives, to keep fate in motion. Never to hesitate. Never to choose.

Until him.

Telemachus, son of Odysseus—warrior, prince, and the man whose thread should have been cut weeks ago.

A single hesitation. A single choice.

But here's the truth no one ever considered:

Even the Fates were woven from something; and maybe—just maybe—they, too, can unravel.

..... ... ..... ━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━ ..... ... .....

╭─↬ ❗𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆❗ ↫─╮ There will be mentions/descriptive scenes of the following:

╭ ⁞ ❏. Death ┊

🔺 Reader Discretion Advised.

Lol, I don't know if I got them all, so if you see anything I didn't list, come back and comment right here so I can add them to the list later ➡

Also, before you start, if you're new here, welcome! But if you're a returning reader/came from my other books, hi babies 🥹❤️ Enjoy (•͈˽•͈)

A/N: SCREECHING, SOBBING, THROWING MYSELF INTO THE SEA—WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!?

Y'ALL. TWO. BOOKS. OVER. 100K. VIEWS. ON WATTPAD. WTF. WTF. WTF.

THIS IS NOT REAL LIFE.

Wattpad was literally the first platform I ever read and wrote on—like, baby me was out here devouring fanfics and original works at 2AM on a cracked phone screen, practically vibrating from excitement every time I found a good fic.

And now?? NOW I HAVE TWO BOOKS THAT PASSED 100K READS???? ON THE VERY PLATFORM THAT MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH STORYTELLING?!?!?

Y'all are too much. TOO. MUCH. (And by too much, I mean I love you all deeply and will fight Zeus himself for you.)

So, as a tiny thank-you for all the love and chaos, I present to you: "A Knot in Time"—a 10-chapter short story I finished weeks ago featuring Telemachus and a Fate-who-should-not-love-but-does-anyway.

It's slow-burn, introspective, and built on steady, lingering tension, because I wanted to write romance the way I personally understand it. Sooo if you're the type who likes instant love, jumping straight into things, and getting to the spice ASAP... yeah, this fic ain't it, bestie (but no worries, I have projects in the drafts more up that lane). 💀💀

But if you're here for a Greek-myth style tragedy-turned-love story about a man who should have died and the woman who was meant to end him... buckle in.

Hope y'all enjoy. And thank you, again, for making my inner bookworm FREAK THE HELL OUT. 🖤

Also, I'm working on a new update for both 'Know No Evil' and 'Godly Things' and oh! Y'all are in for a ride 😮‍💨

[wildestheart4ever]

@stealingyourbones

Was reading a “Danny is Damian’s biological older brother” fic where he was with the Fentons due to mission reasons that Jack and Maddie are aware of

And seeing Danny treat Maddie with this “I’m your superior and you should remember that” attitude just woke something in me

There are a lot of Danyal Al Ghul fics where Danny winds up with the Fentons because of

a) He was a spare heir Ras didn’t want and killed or had killed leading to Talia having him moved to a humble little family in America

b) Danny ran away either for his own good or for Damian’s [i.e. Damian is the spare in this scenario]

or c) He was displaced via Lazarus Pit or failed mission

But there’s very few where Danny is with the Fentons for mission reasons [whether that is overseeing the Fentons’ progress or what have you], where he is a loyal member of the Al Ghul family

Now the fic I read? Danny is continuing to oversee this mission but is trying - and failing - not to get attached and implies he’s doing this for Damian’s sake [letting him live his life with their father while he keeps Ras’ focus on himself as the heir]

But of course like always, I got to thinking how things would be different in the DP world if he were loyal to the Al Ghul family

And how terrible he would be to someone like Vlad

‘Cause Vlad? That man would be small fry to someone like this Danny, a Danny who has lethal training, resources, protection and a superiority complex to outmatch Vlad’s - he’s not going to be threatened by Vlad’s experience with ghost powers

This Danny isn’t going to be blackmailed with their shared secret, because what does he care what the Fentons think? [If] The Fentons try shit there would severe consequences [Cut resources, cut throats, the works]

Vlad thinks he knows everything about Danny? He couldn’t be more wrong but Danny certainly knows everything about him once Vlad made himself a pesk

Because a pesk is all he’ll ever be

I’m just imagining a scene where Vlad is welcoming himself to the Fenton household as he does, trying to push his weight around and all that shit

He thinks he has all the cards

And Danny? Danyal Al Ghul? Well, they’re not in public right now so he has no reason to save face so he just pulls the rug from under Vlad’s feet

And now Vlad finds himself with a blade against his throat

“The only reason you are not a smear on the couch is because I see no reason to cut you down where you stand.

You think yourself such a superior dreadful opponent, when the truth is that you are nothing more than a small insect in my eyes. You hold no power over me, Masters, because you are nothing in the grand scheme of things - you don’t even hold title to most obnoxious rich man, that title belongs to Luther

but myself? Well, I already exchanged words with my grandfather of what could be done with you.”

The boy draws closer with a thoughtful hum, blade kept completely steady where it is against his skin

“You see, he finds you a…..curiosity he wishes to study once the time comes. The Fentons and yourself have certainly developed a myriad of weapons, so controlling you shouldn’t be an issue.”

Maddie walks into the room with a tea tray and for a moment Vlad hopes Daniel will retreat and put up what was apparently the mask he’s been wearing since they’ve met

She just pauses with a startled expression and looks at the two before quietly asking if she should come back later

Daniel just gives her a wane smile “Just for a moment, Dr. Fenton, I’m just clarifying some things for your guest”

And with that, Vlad watches as she quietly leaves the room and leaves him with this threat he suddenly found himself against

He looks down and finds Daniel watching him, smiling a benign, innocent smile and with eyes of a hawk, gleaming a toxic green. He can feel the blade against his throat turning gently, it’s sharp edge slowly digging into his skin and knows it’s been altered to use against ghosts

“You thought her presence would save you, didn’t you? Unfortunately for you, she and her husband are perfectly aware of who I am.

I only tell you this, Masters, because I tire of this ploy you think you have. This is me telling you your place - any advantage you think you have is nonexistent: Your experience, your power - what little of it you have, down to your money is irrelevant to me”

“I imagine your little friends will be very contrite with this revelation, Daniel” Vlad utters, looking for something to hold over this boy’s head and knows it’s futile

For a moment, Daniel pauses and Vlad feels the vicious glee that maybe he finally got the advantage and some semblance of control back

But then that smile turns sharp and mean, like the boy is perfectly aware of his attempt for control and finds it amusing.

“I assure you that they are perfectly aware as well. You see, despite their age and lack of experience - Sam already displays the traits Grandfather values and Tucker’s knowledge with hacking and technology - while limited, especially compared to others of greater experience - will be proven valuable assets given time and proper training.

And you? Well! Like I said, grandfather finds your duel nature a curiosity he has wished to study.”

Vlad wonders if Daniel’s equally duel nature could be held against him, if this grandfather could have his focus turned on a different much closer target

Something tells him Daniel’s place in his grandfather’s life isn’t as uncertain

So he thinks of any contingencies he has that might save him from this situation, what he has to do to keep himself in the public eye to ensure his absence will be noticed, what he has to look into to understand the threat he faces

“Of course, there is your position as town mayor, we can use that to our benefit - make you of use, I’m sure your sudden absence will be noticed after all…..

But you just had to annoy me.”

With a click of the tongue, Daniel finally pulls the blade away, wiping any blood away with a cloth before handing it over to a dark garbed woman Vlad hadn’t noticed before now

With a sharp inhale, he looks over his shoulder to find two others in the room with them, eyeing him like he were nothing more than a mouse. He feels further unease at the fact that he hadn’t heard or seen these people coming in, doesn’t know how long they’ve been laying in wait

For what, that is what he wished to know

With a shaken breath, he looks back to the boy with awe and fear, “Who are you?”

The boy looks back at him with sharp eyes, a derisive sneer curling at his nose, “I don’t see how that is any of your concern.

I’m feeling generous, so I’ll let you off with a little warning, Masters: Next time you fancy yourself superior to me, you’ll be gutted and strung up like a pig, left on the steps of town hall for all these town plebeians to see, with evidence of your extensive crimes up on display.”

With that, he picks up his bag from the floor and dismisses his silent companions, heading towards the front door with a quiet hum.

Vlad can barely keep himself from tensing up when the boy pauses, looking back at him with a perfectly innocent expression, any cold, lethal intent that was there beforehand completely gone

“Tell mom and dad I��ll be out with Sam and Tucker, will you? That won’t be a problem for you, will it, fruitloop? I’ll leave you to your nice and friendly visit with your friends.

Behave.”

[burb-ie]

Okay so - the origin of the Autobots and Decepticons. I’ll admit I’m mostly pulling from the wiki, since the Allspark Almanac is very long and there’s a lot of lore thats scattered around a lot of different places. So this is what is commonly understood.

(Also this is over the course of millions of years. Transformers long ass timescale basically)

The Autobots and Decepticons are the modern factions, but in Cybertron’s past they’ve had several wars. There is some lore on how this came to be, but the important stuff if that a group called the Protectobots eventually came to power through a coup d’état.

Eventually Nova Magnus came to power, and started what was known as “the great purge” in order to eliminate all “undesirables” including knowledge of their past. They were stopped by another faction known as the Destrons led by Devros, who won the war and came to power around 1 billion years ago.

The Autobots emerged as a sub-faction of the Protectobots, encouraging them to expand into other planets and eventually other systems around 700 million years ago, founding the Autobot commonwealth. However, Destrons started to feel like they were doing all the work defending the commonwealth and not seeing the benefits. This ended eventually, likely from these tensions.

As tensions grew, a subfaction of Destrons, the Decepticons, rose to prominence around 70 million years ago and were led by Megazarak. By that time, the age of expansion was over and the Decepticons wanted to return to it - advocating to bring Cybertron itself to life to become a juggernaut of conquest. They’re vaguely implied to be very imperialistic while Autobots focused more on art and science.

When Megatron ousted Megazarak as leader, tensions reached a boiling point and the Great War began. We don’t know how long it exactly was, only that it lasted for millions of years and by the time animated started it’s been at least one or two million years. Long enough for there to be a new generation thats never seen war, at least on the Autobot’s side.

Jump forward a lot, a new combiner group were named Protectobots and it’s noted this name has negative connotations in modern times, which also tells us a lot about what we should think of them.

So basically both factions were originally political groups on Cybertron, but there’s always been something of a divide between the civilians and war frames that got more pronounced over time - which matches the g1 clips we see in the first episode, since the g1 backstory for the war was that the Autobots and Decepticons have always been fighting for control over Cybertron.

However, this divide became MONUMENTAL after the Great War, which was the largest of the Cybertronian wars, and now they’re basically completely different societies and co-existence is inconceivable to both groups from what we see.

I find this interesting compared to TFP, where Optimus Prime wants there to be peace super badly and the divide between them is a much more recent thing (relatively speaking).

Anyways - thanks for giving me space to infodump :) and I’m not any authority lol, especially since so much lore is scattered and almost none of it is in the show. Honestly, I think most Animated fic writers pick and choose what to use because of just how unexplained it is lol.

I’m loving the TFP x TFA stuff you’ve already done, it’s a lot of fun to contrast such different stories against eachother!

omg thank you for explaining this to me!

and im glad you enjoy my crossover au, ill use all the info you dumped on me to better flesh out this au, thank you!

[aziraphales-library]

Hi, friend! Your recs are always so good!

I was wondering... Do you have any recs for either Crowley or Aziraphale being in long term hospital care?

Thank you so much!

Hello! Here are some fics which include extended hospital stays...

“It should have been me.” by die_traumerei (T)

Crowley and Aziraphale co-own a bookshop, and absolutely cannot stand one another. They're famous for it. But when a frightening accident means Aziraphale can't work for months to come, things start to change, and revelations are had, and maybe things can change between two women who irritate each other just by existing...

Lwmp by AppleSeeds (M)

In hospital awaiting heart surgery, Aziraphale feels like he's going crazy when his heart starts talking to him, trying to persuade him to engage in some rather inappropriate intimate activities with incredibly hot nurse Crowley.

moments lost, moments gained by commodorecliche, Dervila (M)

With frantic, fumbling steps, Hamish hurries back to his car, grabs his radio, and alerts headquarters.  “Yes, uh,” He huffs with urgency, “This is PC Hamish Black; I’ve got two folks out here off the A30, both suffering from severe injuries and unresponsive. One burn and one… impact, maybe? I can’t tell. I need emergency units here as soon as possible.”  Hamish takes another look at the two men strewn across the highway, the rubble and flames surrounding them both. He vaguely hears headquarters responding to his alert.  “Please, hurry,” he mutters.   :: Crowley and Aziraphale are expelled from their respective realms when their partnership is found out, and find themselves waking up in hospital as humans, with no memory of their previous natures, and no memory of each other.

A Crash Caused By A Cat by MrsMendes19, The_Queen_Of_OTPs (NR)

It had been a boring day in Soho London, Angel content but because the demon is bored they go out and go shopping. All was good, a nice experience with some spending, but while on the way home, before either of them could see it coming, the Bentley crashed into a telephone pole, veering off that into a tree. On impact, the airbags blew, the hood crumpled making a horrible crunching sound pushing the front of the car in trapping Crowley’s leg, and the smash of the windshield as glass fragments flew in all different directions, and leaving Crowley with most of the injuries while Aziraphale with minor injuries and a slight concussion, and the crash itself, well, it was a crash caused by a cat of all things!

Though Heaven Bar the Way by books-and-omens (T)

Nearly five decades after the Holy Water argument, Aziraphale is sent to a world-famous sanatorium in the Swiss Alps on an assignment that Heaven appears to care about rather more than usual—only to find out that Crowley, of all creatures, has already established himself there. Clearly, this cannot be good for anyone's constitution.

Smitten at First Fright by Oopsynini (M)

Aziraphale has problems. No one needs to tell him so, he's well aware that his issues are many and in-between. He's an agoraphobic shut-in with a bad back and a sad past. It's a rule that, to most, he isn't much worth the effort of getting to know. Crowley doesn't seem to abide by any of that. He's an enigmatic gardener with a green thumb and a smile a thousand miles wide. It's something like love at first sight; if that included a panic attack and a minor foray into bird watching. Aziraphale is smitten, now if only he could get past his fears and admit it.

- Mod D

[lonewolflupe]

Happy Valentine's Day from Fives! Read messages below the cut

To: @queen-of-mandalore

Thank you so much for being my friend and someone to bounce fic ideas off of. You’re such a great writer and I can’t wait to see how your fic progresses. Happy Valentine’s Day, my friend!

From: Misty 💙 ( @tealmisthams )

To: @snarkyfina

I just wanted to say thank you so much for your support of my writing and for joining me in my love of Five-soka. 💙🧡 Happy Valentine’s Day, my friend!

From: Misty 💙 ( @tealmisthams )

(Note from Lupe: I'm sorry for adding the '-' in 'Five-soka', but I didn't want to get this post filtered!)

To: @tealmisthams

Misty!

Please accept some Fives as a token of my gratitude for your lovely friendship <3 I'm at a bit of a loss for words (ironic, given my messages are usually paragraphs long) to express how truly thankful I am for our wonderful chats, character analyses, Fives and Ahsoka fangirling, Severance theories, and for all the writing support. You are an incredibly talented writer and truly have a gift for balancing angst with really sweet/tender moments. You always manage to do it just right and I am always inspired by what you create and how dedicated you are to working on your writing while balancing everything else in your life. TEACH ME YOUR WAYS!

Thank you for all the wonderful works you've created for the fandom and for your friendship. I'm always excited to get a notification from you.

Sending you much love (and to Sable/Mabel),

Mimi (and Fives, who inserts a few winking emojis here)

From: @aknightreaderr

…

To: @tealmisthams

I don't know you very well but you made the mistake of being nice to me (tagging me in a tag game) and you ain't getting rid of me. You're my beloved mutual now.

From: Kote ( @kotemf )

To: @aknightreaderr

To my dearest editor,

First of all, I know you might be disappointed in receiving a Valentine's message from me instead of from a certain sensitive (sensible? sensory? sensational? serious?) sergeant, but he was unavailable. Believe me, I tried, but a certain.. biting child got in the way, so I couldn't reach him. So I get an A for effort and you get a F for Fives!

Jokes aside (although I know Hunter is no joke to you), I'd like to thank you for your service and your friendship (and your patience). I know I can be a real handful, and so do Echo and Rex and Fox and probably a few (million) more. But after everything I put you through (fame included, of course), you're still sticking with me. And I really admire that about you.

Just know you are loved and appreciated around here. Rex just said how lucky I am with you as my editor, so I called him Captain Obvious.

Wishing you lots of love (Echo just added: wish her lots of love 😏)!

From: Fives

…

To: @aknightreaderr

Hi! I really love your blog. Your writing is incredible and it always makes me laugh. Also Ask Fives is a brilliant idea and you write it so, so well! I really admire your ability to write crack.

You were also the first person on Tumblr to tag me for a writing challenge or a tag game, I don't really remember what it was anymore but thanks. It meant a lot. It's an honor to be able to call you a mutual.

From: Kote ( @kotemf )

To: @lonewolflupe

Lupe, bestie!

It’s ya boy Fives. You really thought that you could hide behind this event and share the love and not receive any back? YOU ARE WRONG!

How do I love LoneWolfLupe? Let me count the ways. Actually, I won’t count the ways because that would take all of eternity and it’s not that I don’t have time for that, but I think I might lose my voice (RIP).

Lupe, there is no one quite like you - equal parts kindness, chaotic (which makes me shed a tear bc you get the Domino Twin vibes), creative (a writer AND an artist? The galaxy is shaking in its boots), and encouraging. Your selfless nature could melt the coldest heart (maybe I should get you to talk to Rex when he won’t let us go to 79s because we’re ‘a handful.’ I know you could sweet talk him out of it. And also because if you don’t come with us, then where is the party?)

Always keep your head raised high and take life a day at a time. You are more than capable of achieving anything you can dream on the timeline that suits YOU (Echo said that was cringe life advice but please know I speak from the heart).

But truly Lupe, I’ve never met anyone so generous and supportive as you. Thanks for all you do for us clones (and the earthlings). We always have your back! *insert lots of winks here and a hug and also Tup says hi*

Happy Valentines Day 💙

LIVE LAUGH LONEWOLFLUPE,

Fives

p.s. I wrote you a poem which is from me and Echo but he didn't write it

From: Fives

Roses are red

The 501st is blue

LoneWolfLupe

Oh how I love you!

(Note from Lupe: shedding a tear again as I re-read this whilst preparing this post. I appreciate you so much, thank you for this message <3)

...

To: @lonewolflupe

your positivity and passion is radiant! you uplift and spread love to so many. for you to make events (like this one) is so sweet

every interaction i've had with you has been nothing short of lovely and i hope so many more can feel it too <3

From: @littletroggo

(Note from Lupe: Thank you so much for your kind message, I appreciate it so much! <3)

Heart divider by @/saradika-graphics

[mechazushi]

Heart-To-Heart {A Kaiju Number 8 Short story.}

[Warning: Major Character Death] [Warning: Depictions of Gore]

It was a long drive back to the First Division base. It felt even longer since you could feel everyone collectively reeling from the news. It hadn't hit the front-liners just yet. The higher ups were waiting to see just how many were going to come back from the fight alive first. Mina and Soshiro couldn't bring themselves to tell Reno or Kikoru just yet either. They knew something was off when they rushed their friend into an armored truck as soon as the dust settled. They were just going to have to writhe in a lack of understanding for a little while longer. At least, just until the captain and vice captain could get a better understanding of what Kafka; or, they guess in this new situation, Kaiju Number 8, was now.

"You seem to have developed a new staring problem." Hoshina observed bitterly.

Him and his captain were riding in the back of a mostly empty armored box truck. Other than them, there was what was to be assumed to be what remained of Kafka. That being just... the kaiju itself. It wasn't clear what had happened to Kafka after the end of the fight, but that's why they were in here. Although, neither of them felt like getting a head start on questioning.

"Apologies. It's just... you, remind us... of someone. Someone... we miss." Kaiju Number 8 spoke as it cocked its head to the side, it's sight not leaving the commander's face.

It was strapped to a metal chair again, similar to the one they had placed their friend in three months prior. It's voice wasn't the same as Kafka's anymore. Even when Kafka was in his Kaiju form, you could still hear it and tell it was still Kafka, even if it had developed a deeper tone and a rolling grumble. Now... there was nothing of that jolly voice left. It sounded more like listening to a stadium of people talking in unison behind a closed door. It was almost hard to listen too... in more ways than one.

"We? All I see is the one knucklehead." Hoshina retaliated, his voice unchanging. A brief pause was filled with a low, clicking growl. Almost like thunder rolling over mountains.

"Was that a purr? He fucking purrs now?" Hoshina thought as he continued to return the stare down the Kaiju was giving back.

"Looks like... we, won't miss... him... for much... longer." Kaiju Number 8 said with an uncanny level of hope in its voice. It was an odd sight watching the kaiju speak. It moved its mouth like it was talking, but the movement didn't match the words themselves.

"We. You keep saying we. Why is that?." Mina spoke up for the first time since they entered the vehicle. They watched the kaiju as it took its time coming up with an answer.

"We are... gone. All gone. We are now... shame. Regret... Fear. Rage...Revenge." Kaiju Number 8 said cryptically.

"Well, that wasn't exactly helpful." Mina thought.

"Revenge? Against what?" Hoshina questioned on his turn.

"To finish... what we started. To kill... Kill all Kaiju." It said as it's voice became more threatening, dropping in tone and developing a deeper growl.

A harsh, wheezing laugh came from the vice captain as he got up to walk around the container.

"Great. The damn thing's turned you worse than a mindless, killing dog." He muttered to himself as he was turned away from both of them.

"Hoshina." Mina said with a warning tone, having heard what he had said very clearly.

"Oh, don't act like you're being okay about this! How is anyone going to be okay about this? How's he okay about this?" Hoshina suddenly became very shrill and his movements became exaggerated despite him still feeling the toll the back-to-back fights had put on him, "This is Kafka we're talking about! Or, well, at least it was Kafka."

"Our host... is still here." the kaiju interrupted, "He has joined... the others." There was a weighty pause as the information settled into the commanders.

"Is there... a way to bring him back?" Mina cautiously questioned, trying to not let her hope betray her tone.

"He was presented... a choice. To heal his own heart... and walk away. Or to let it become... our new core." It spoke longer now, gaining speed as well as confidence while it acclimated to it's new state. That harsh laugh rang out again from Hoshina's bruised lips as he tried to not shake his head at the absurdity.

"Why am I not surprised. Ohhh, I should have seen this coming." He sighed as he gently rubbed his face, "He didn't have to do any of this. I had that fight handled." the vice captain continued to mutter as he paced the metal box. This earned a disappointed look from his captain and a curious head tilt from the strapped down Kaiju.

"Oh, don't give me that look." Hoshina said quickly.

"You said he's... that Kafka is still around. Do you think that... it's possible he can hear us?" Mina continued to question cautiously, her heart quietly grasping at any straws that Kafka could have a chance. A chance to understand, to come back to them, or anything that would assuage the pain she felt in her chest, she didn't know.

"He can... He is." the Kaiju answered. Mina tried to prepare a statement, something that could have be reassuring to the both of them at the moment, but the words were killed on her tongue as Hoshina stomped over to their altered friend and slapped a hand on one of the metal arm cuffs while he rudely pointed his finger at it's chest.

"Good. Then that self-sacrificing, one-percent lump of dead weight can hear in great detail about how I'm going to jump down your throat and drag his hairy ass back into the sunlight the second the option seems viable." Hoshina was growling and practically frothing at the mouth by the time he finished his tirade. He took a deep and shuddering breath as he stared the unflinching Kaiju down before calmly turning his head to side-eye his captain.

"You've picked one hell of a friend, captain." he said, his tone unfortunately still harboring misplaced resentment. Mina's normally unflinching face cracked as her brows furrowed and her lips pinched as she got up from her seat.

"You're the one that wanted him on the force." her voice was dark and deceptively even as Hoshina rose to meet her eyes.

"You might want to rethink your tone, captain." He said, trying not to spit it back in her face. The tension in the air pulled tighter and tighter behind the sound of the road noise, only to be cut short as the Kaiju in the room spoke up.

"Kafka... Were you and Kafka... friends?" It asked softly. The two of them turned to face it with puzzled expressions.

"Did having him melt into your little hive mind not already clue you in to that?" Hoshina scoffed.

"It did." The kaiju answered.

"Then why ask?" Mina questioned slowly, becoming deeply curious as well as a little worried for the answer.

"He felt he had... lost the honor." it said as it's white pupils flicked away sympathetically, "He had... broken his promise."

Hoshina shook his head a little at the answer, not understanding completely what that would mean to Mina. He was already aware at this point that her and Kafka were childhood friends, but without any deeper knowledge as to what that friendship meant to each other, he just felt left out of the loop. What ended up grabbing his attention was a shallow, rattling breathing next to him. He turned to look at his captain and saw an emerging and disheartening marvel. Mina seemed to be on the verge of tears. Lips quivering and tears threatening to spill from her shocked eyes.

"Hadn't he?" the kaiju asked, tilting it's head again.

The final nail in the coffin it seemed. Mina spun around on her heels and sprinted to the container's reinforced doors as she put her finger up to her ear comm.

"Stop the vehicle." She commanded, her voice not betraying an ounce of what she felt at the time.

A brief pause was held before she commanded again, this time screaming the order into the comm. Hoshina quickly widened his stance against the force of the truck breaking suddenly.

"Mina?" Her voice captain called out as he watched the back doors fly open and his captain hop down and out of the vehicle.

He tried to rush forward and catch up to her, only for the doors to be slammed back in his face before he could leave. He banged his fist on the metal for a moment, hoping for someone to open them back up. All he felt was the truck rumbling back to life and continuing down the road. He shook his head in disbelief and concern, not knowing why his captain reacted like that.

"Do you believe... that this is not a good price... to pay?" that infinitely echoing voice rang out from the back of the truck.

"What?" Hoshina spat, not understanding the question.

"You continue to fight against... what has already been decided. Do you think that... this form... was not a good price... to pay?" It spoke slowly, not in intentional mockery, to be sure, but it felt like it to Hoshina.

"Pay? Pay for what?" he shouted back.

"No more lost lives... No more shattered families... No more broken promises." It spoke, leaving the idea open ended. It didn't need to expand further anyway. Hoshina got the idea pretty well as he calmed down.

The only thing worse than a predictable friend, was knowing how predictable you were yourself. Because Hoshina asked himself the same hypothetical question and found himself coming to the same answer. A heart for a core... a thousand times over.

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"Epidermis breached. Eight, you're up!" Soshiro called as he leapt back from the entry wound he caused in their newest threat.

Some sort of bastard child of the Meraki Kaiju a year earlier. It hadn't developed Number Nine's shape shifting abilities or possessed any way of speaking, but it damn sure inherited its intelligence. Emerging without warning in the northern part of Japan, it made it clear it still had an ax to grind. A writhing mass of acidic smelling meat, tentacles, and eyeballs, it looked the part to start a spaghetti monster themed cult.

Kaiju Number Eight made a mad dash from the sidelines, focusing solely on getting to the gaping wound the Vice Captain had started. Getting to the weeping slash, it pried the edges of it apart with as much force as it could muster, sending violent arterial sprays of acid around, over, and behind it. From then, it was just a fury of movement. Strong claws ripping and yanking large chunks of hazardous flesh from the threatening mass of black and sending it away from them so it could dig ever further to its center. An example of perfectly honed equilibrium comprised of streamlined intent and raw berserker rage. A flicker of bright, webbed strings of multi-colored light let it know that its destination had been reached. Quickly scrapping the muscle around the core, the Kaiju noticed that the monster had picked up another thing from its progenitor; a hard-light barrier around the core.

"Core two of three located. Beginning demolition." Eight called out loud enough to be picked up by its custom ear comm.

"Core sighting confirmed. Begin neutralization." Okonogi had said on the other end of the link.

It reared back its fist as it felt the thruster tubes in its forearm slide out and into position. It waited for the jets to build up sufficient pressure before letting it send its fist rocketing forward to the shield with each punch.

First hit.

Second hit.

Third hit. Shields gone.

Fourth hit.

Fifth hit. Core shattered.

"Energy readings dropped. Core Destroyed! Good work Kaf-I mean, Eight!" Okonogi let out a reserved cheer as she read out the information at her station.

That wasn't the only surprise the monster had in store it seemed. Just as Eight turned to launch itself out of the slowly enclosing wound, a barbed tentacle shot out from behind the broken core and propelled through its chest with enough force to send its body flying out and down the street. When the tentacle stopped moving, Eight's body flew off of it, feeling the barbs rip through its flesh as it tumbled through the air. Eight hit the asphalt, hard. Would have sent any ordinary officer unconscious with a concussion even if they had the suit's shield. It felt itself rolling down the street and over the harsh edge of a curb. With the wind knocked out of it's lungs and the very obvious sign that it's blood was pouring out from its chest, it made the now monumental effort to prop itself against a solid surface and take a mental rundown of the damage. Bringing a clawed hand to its chest, it made the devastating discovery.

"Well... shit."

On the other side of the offending mass of destruction was Mina and Narumi, tag-teaming their attacks to crack the first layer of the Kaiju. Dodging the slashing appendages coming for them left and right, they felt they weren't any closer to breaking its resistant shell. The fight had been going on for so long that the both of them could feel their fortitude percentage dropping with every twitch of muscle. Out of nowhere, Mina saw her vice captain drop from the air in front of them and plunge the sword in his suit's tail to cut a deep gash in the beast top-to-bottom.

"Heard ya'll were having some trouble." Hoshina panted with a bloody and cocky grin.

"Hoshina! You're supposed to watch Eight's back!" Mina yelled as she shifted her cannon's muzzle away from him.

"Kafka got his mission handled. He should be on his way." Hoshina replied as he dashed in a circle around her, dicing up any tentacles shooting out her way.

"About that! Eight's vitals just dropped off the map!" Okonogi cried in panic, watching the screens turn red.

The captain and her vice immediately looked to each other as their faces turned to shock. Okonogi could only watch as she witnessed everyone's vitals go haywire at the news. Mina could just barely bring herself out of her nightmarish thoughts and leveled her cannon at the kaiju's gaping wound, making sure it stayed open a little longer.

"Go to him! Me and the Bowl-cut Bastard can handle this!" Narumi cried as he fought off his own barrage of barbed obstacles.

Mina looked over to her vice as he reassured her with a quick nod before jumping into the fray with Narumi. She whistled hard and loud, calling her faithful tiger to her aid. She leaped onto its back and held on tight while they tracked down their fallen comrade, trying not to think the worst.

Back on the other side, Eight had managed to prop itself against a shockingly still intact dumpster next to one of the few miraculously standing buildings this close to the fight. Black rivulets of blood trailed behind it and stained its path to false safety. A jagged tunnel had been left behind from the tentacle's blow, acting as the main source of agony and fear for its health. This kind of an injury wouldn't normally be a problem, even the acid melting away at his chest wouldn't have raised any concern. It's healed from worse before, but not this time. No, this time was a problem as it could feel where the barbs had ripped and shredded its way through its core and the acid making quick work of whatever was left to touch.

Inside the dark, flesh textured walls of their mind, Kafka's presence manifested as a battered and broken soldier. Redder blood leaked from various gashes on his face and body. Dark, angry bruises littered his sore chest and limbs. Outside of the pain, he mostly felt numb. At most, a dull ache in his chest where his heart-turned-core would have been. He turned to one of the other presences in his mindscape, the samurai soldier that held his powers before him, and smiled a weak smile. He couldn't tell if the samurai was as badly battered as he was, but he could tell in the way he held his chest they at least felt the same pain. Kafka chuckled raspingly as he turned and shuffled toward the last being in the brain, the big Kaiju bug that held all the power, and painfully shambled his way over to it.

"So... Was that a damn good last run or what?" Kafka playfully mocked as he carefully settled himself to the floor, leaning back against the equally battered Kaiju bug.

"No... We're not finished. We have to finish the fight!" The samurai shouted wheeling around to Kafka, still clutching his chest.

"Can't do that if there's no more fight left in us, Papaw. Face it... We're fucked." Kafka panted from the pain as it spread more viciously and his muscles released its tension.

"How dare you call yourself an officer! There are still lives on the line back there!" the samurai angrily shouted at him.

"AND HOW DO YOU EXPECT US TO CONTINUE WITHOUT ANOTHER FUCKIN' CORE, HUH?" Kafka screamed back with more rage than the samurai could ever express.

There was a lot of words that both of them wanted to say, things to be said in anger and fear, in hopelessness and tiredness. But they were getting tired themselves, feeling the energy being sapped from their muscles and the warmth being leached at the same rate as their blood. There was no denying that this... this was it. No more hearts for cores, no second chances, no turning back the clock. Kafka never got to feel what it was like to be by Mina's side. The Samurai won't get to see other people live a life without fear from otherworldly threats. The kaiju that made all this possible will never know what a quiet mind could have felt like.

"But we got close though, didn't we?" Kafka softly begged, "Tell me we got close, Papaw."

The samurai looked down for a moment, seeming to think his response over, before looking away entirely.

"Even if one fails to reach the moon, one still lies among the stars." He finally said, still not looking back.

Kafka gave a soft smile in return, leaning his head back as his head grew heavy with a lead-like feeling. He knew he didn't mean it, but appreciated the effort anyway.

"And not a night sky to be seen." Kafka muttered to himself as the dark started to overtake his sight.

Something in the back of his mind wouldn't let him rest completely, however. He could sense something coming closer and moving in rapidly. He could tell it was a kaiju, but a smaller one giving off an abnormal but familiar signature. Mina's tiger, no doubt bringing its owner along with it.

"Shit. Can't let Mina see us like this." Kafka groaned painfully as he tried to stand both inside and outside the body, "She doesn't need to see this."

The samurai just eyed his mental roommate from the unchanging confines of his mask and made no move to help the struggling Kafka up to his feet. In their mind's eye, they watched as Mina dismounted and bolted forward to their devastatingly injured remains. Her voice was muffled, but they could definitely sense the distress in her tone as she dropped to her knees by their side.

"Oh God! Nonono, KAFKA!" Mina cried as she harshly dropped to her knees beside his still body. She brought up a hand to its chest wanting to slow the profuse bleeding, only to feel the massive opening staying warm through the power of the acid alone. It became all too clear to her that at this moment... that her friend couldn't be salvaged

"Mina... please. You need to go." Eight muttered out as more blood dripped from its teeth.

"No, Kafka, this can't be it! Not like this. I can't lose you again." Mina's eyes rained its tears freely, taking advantage of their privacy to stop holding back in this vulnerable moment.

She could barely hear the sounds of the on going battle in front of them through her wet sniffling and ragged coughing. She held on tight to its chest and shoulder, trying to focus her thoughts away from another time. An earlier time where this had happened before, where she lost the last pieces of her long gone friend. Her cheeks were hot with anguish as she bowed her head against its shoulder, thinking of any and all prayers she could think of. She didn't want this moment to finish and take the last shreds of hope she had with his passing.

Back in the dark passages of their mind, Kafka had only managed to drag himself to his hands and knees as he tried to speak to Mina. He barely had enough strength to keep himself upright, let alone to project his voice out of the confines of his mind. The samurai just stood still as it quietly watched this all go down.

"Mina... Mina I'm so sorry *cough* for everything... I... I know this is going to be hard... but I know that... you can be strong-" Kafka coughed again and almost landed on his face from exhaustion. Planting his trembling arms as firmly as possible underneath him, he tried to look over at the samurai standing next to him.

"For fuck's sake, Papaw! Can you help me up sometime today, please?" He called out as he managed to lean back onto his legs somewhat.

He watched as the samurai continued to ignore him, not even bothering to look his way. As Kafka busied himself with finding the strength within him to push Mina away in any way he could, he missed the telltale sound of a sword being pulled out of its sheath. As Kafka got off of one knee, he felt something hard and sharp push its way through the back of his neck and out of his mouth. He instantly felt all of his limbs going numb in that second and all of his weight being carried by what was shoved through his neck.

As the sword pulled itself back out, Kafka felt warm trickles of his blood start running down the back of his throat. He couldn't swallow the blood into a different direction and could only feel it all sliding right into his lungs, making him choke reflexively. As he fell onto his face, he felt the growing pain from the wound grow from the back of his head and slowly turn into the worst, practically splitting headache he had ever felt before now. Feeling his body twitching from the numbness and his lungs quaking in the fight against being able to breathe, he just laid there and saw his Ancestor flick his sword and clean it on his sleeve before placing it back into the sheath. Had Kafka not been choking on his own blood or had enough feeling in any of his limbs, he would have certainly returned the favor. What happened instead was the feeling of the floor opening up underneath him and dropping him down into that familiar, watery, bottomless pit in their shared conscious, eyes and mind growing darker the further down he drifted.

Back up top, his Ancestor took control of the body and started talking to the grieving Mina.

"Mina..." He called out.

"Kafka? Kafka, are you still with me?" Mina cried out desperately as she continued to hold the body close.

"We need... another heart." He asked, trying to stretch out whatever remaining willpower he had left to finish his request.

"A heart?" Mina questioned in the interlude, slowly gaining control over her tears.

"Yes... Another heart... for another core." He finished, hoping for Mina to understand what he was asking of her.

"A... a heart." Mina reiterated as the request she began to realize what was being asked of her, "I-I can't... I can't ask something like that from anyone..."

"You don't have to ask... If they're not here to question..." He answered, hoping he wouldn't have to spell it out further than that.

Mina's eyes grew wide as the tears threatened to spill over again. He was asking for her to drag over an already dead body? Just to continue fighting? Warning lights went off in her head as this ask dawned on her. Kafka would never ask for something like this, it was too underhanded. But then again... Maybe this wasn't Kafka talking anymore. Maybe Kafka was gone, and it was whoever made Eight was talking now. It had to have been, because Kafka's hate for the Kaijus was never deep enough to warrant this.

Still... some part of Mina refused to give up on him. Even if he wasn't the one talking right now, Eight was all she had left of her friend. Mina was strong, she led the forces, she joined the Division because of Kafka. She had watched him struggle year after year to catch up to her, falling back to square one every time. This Kaiju helped him on his last chance to get his foot in the door, and she hated to admit that it was probably the biggest reason as to how he managed to stay this long.

It wasn't the only reason, however. If the Kaiju helped him physically, his promise to her helped him in every other way. All he wanted was to be by her side, and even after every roadblock and setback and debilitating snag he hit, he got to this moment... this fight, and it was the closest he had ever gotten to fulfilling it. But one can't be expected to carry that kind of fight alone. She knew that well enough after blitzing through the ranks to Captain. At some point, a hand needs to be extended, a branch to hold on to, a sign that this isn't a one sided fight. That someone else wants what they want too, and wants to see that dream realized for them... with them. It took both of her hands to muscle the slackened arm up to her chest and placed the bloodied and acid-stained hand over her own heart.

"Take mine... You can take mine." She said, her voice betrayed no cracks, only a solitary hiccup.

"Mina... no. Anyone else..." The ancestor argued, knowing well enough that this would hurt more than just Mina.

"Well, you're not getting anyone else, goddamnit!" Mina screamed, " I've wanted too damn long for you to be by my side and watching you sacrifice everything on the dotted line, just for it all to stop here! I'm tired of waiting. I'm done waiting."

She placed her head back on its shoulder, waiting for it to decide. She worried that she took too long and that there wasn't any life left within it to finish the task. Eight found enough strength to bring his head over to the top of her's and lightly placed his closed mouth on it. For he had no lips to kiss away her fears, or a voice left to reassure her that everything would be okay. All it could give was a low, throaty rumble as her tears fell down like a storm.

'I'm sorry... for everything.' It thought.

A loud squelching noise was heard in tandem with a dull ache suddenly spreading out in her chest. Mina looked down and could see that Eight's hand had pushed itself through the barriers of her suit and was now being drenched in warm rivers of red blood. Her lungs spasmed irregularly as that dull ache started to feel more and more staticy. As she coughed, she felt a little spurt of blood splatter out of her mouth. Eight waited for her eyes to roll into the back of her head and for her body to grow limp before he sucked her heart out of her chest. Warmth began to travel down its arm and flowed freely into the rest of its body. It shed one lone black tear as the cavity in its chest began to close up.

Soshiro and Narumi's fight with the Daikaiju had gotten only a little further than nowhere in the time that Mina had left them. Soshiro had managed to keep the wound that he had made earlier open and could only stand by and watch as Narumi ventured inside it while slicing his way deeper in. A weighty moment had passed before he saw that back of Narumi's suit being propelled toward him at unbelievable speed. The two of them made contact and were sent flying backwards. Hoshina took his own fair share of damage as he ended up getting abruptly sandwiched between a broken piece of a stone wall and the full weight of Narumi in his numbered suit and weapon.

"Augh! What the hell, Narumi?" Hoshina cried out in pain as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Damn thing must have learned from the last two times we hit its core! It tried to skewer me with a tentacle and launch me backwards. I managed to deflect it with my weapon, but Jesus! That acid stings!" Narumi yelled as he shifted off of Hoshina's lap, trying to use his now ruined jacket to wipe off the rest of the acidic blood from the suit.

Hoshina tried to get back onto his feet, but could only manage to slowly shift himself onto a knee. Bracing himself against the wall, he leveled his one undamaged eye toward the hulking monstrosity before them. He panted heavily as he weighed his options, finding all of them to be far from satisfactory plans to finish this brutal beast once and for all. Still, no one could rest until that thing was put down for good.

"Get up Narumi." Hoshina growled through his pain, "We need to finish this." Narumi just squinted up at him with a question on his mind, before deciding that the smack talk back wasn't worth the effort. As they propped themselves to their feet as best they could, an unearthly voice came over the ear comms.

"Hoshina. Narumi. Stand down and head to safety." the voice commanded with easy authority.

Hoshina peered his head over the chunk of wall first. Off in the distance he saw a slim figure walking towards them. The sound of metal dragging over asphalt matched the sight of the stilted silhouette and its heavy looking object it brought with them. He grabbed Narumi by the shoulder and dragged them both off to the side of the street to hide behind more rubble. Leaning against a shattered chunk of roadblock, Hoshina watched with great interest as the figure got closer and closer. The sound of metal being dragged got replaced with the sound of metal being loudly pried apart, sheets and gears popping and buckling under great pressure. He studied the new arrival as best he could from his distance and made one startling discovery after another.

The being that approached looked almost like Eight and carried Mina's cannon. Only now that cannon had looked like it was caught in a tangle of thick, black, jungle vines that had wound itself into every part of the complex machine. The body that was connected to the cannon looked very different from what he remembered as well. Eight looked taller, leaner, and not as wide. And he certainly knew that Eight didn't have a full head of long black hair.

Narumi watched the new figure as well, but was focused on a very specific part of them. He watched the new kaiju open one set of eyes, then a second set below that, then a third set above them both. It only got stranger as he saw the borders of the eye's sockets stretch and lengthen out to the borders of the other eyes. Once the edges touched, the sides popped open and the eyes melded into each other, forming one long, glowing, teal band extending across the width of its face.

The tentacles on its arm had finished their job of weaving their way through the cannon and lifted the whole mess level with its target, the Kaiju everyone had been fighting. Hoshina watched on in slowly dawning horror as he heard the voice on the comms match to the movement of the teeth on the new Kaiju warrior in front of them.

"All should know better than to be caught in their Captain's line of fire."

Inside the mind of the new beast, Kafka could feel his mind turning on to a sense of alertness. It almost felt like waking up from a paralyzing nightmare. As he blinked his eyes and got them to focus, he tried to recall what had sent him sprawling over the floor in his own mind. His memories slowly worked their way forward from the moment he entered the fray, to when he felt the acidic sting of the tentacle pierce his core. He rolled onto his side and brought up a hand to rub his face, trying to dislodge anything more important or at least relevant. Even moving around in his listless state, he could instantly tell he felt different. His arms didn't feel sore or bruised, his chest had lost its weighty pain that had settled deep in his core. His core. If that had been broken, then how was he still able to think? As Kafka landed on his back and pushed himself up onto his hands, a deep, reverberating thump rattled in his chest as more recent memories started to crop up.

The fight. The killing shot. Crawling away to hide his shameful death. Mina... Oh gods, Mina! She found him, and... and... His Ancestor, the samurai. What did he do to him? Kafka felt his chest tighten as his breathing became labored and ragged, quick puffs of angry air sucking its way past his teeth. He shot up to his feet quickly, the lack of pain making him all the more angry at the thought of his Ancestor committing some atrocity that somehow fixed this. His only reasoning for this being that if it wasn't supposed to be a bad decision, then why bother silencing Kafka at all?

"WHERE ARE YOU?" he screamed out into the vast space of his mind, "FACE ME AND EXPLAIN, YOU COWARD!"

Kafka made a slow turn, viciously eyeing down any shadow in the dark recesses of his mind that could have been his murderer's form. Spying a dark shape off in the distance behind him, he turned and ran toward it, thinking it to be the samurai. As he got closer and closer, it became very clear that this new person wasn't the samurai. His Ancestor didn't have a flowing curtain of black hair, nor did it wear a defense force suit. He slowed down his pace for a second, becoming worried and praying that his mind had just decided to play a cruel joke on him, now of all times.

"Mina?" Kafka hesitantly called out, a thousand prayers for salvation from this fear echoed in his heart.

He watched on in horror as the familiar shade turned to the sound of its name and faced him with shock in her eyes. He picked up speed again, this time not with intent to maim and harm, but to approach this mirage of agony faster with the hopes that he'll just run right through it.

"No. No, no, no, nononono, MINA!" He cried as he got close enough to see that this wasn't a horrible joke, but a nightmare made flesh.

Carelessly plowing right into her, Kafka held her tight as they fell to the softly giving floor. Sobs racked his ribs and shuddered his lungs as he scrambled to his hands and knees. His hands roughly busied themselves with pulling her onto his lap and brushing strands of hair out of her face, chanting that simple word over and over. They slowed as the realization of this, of her physically being in his mind really meant, began to chip away at his already war-torn heart. He could feel himself rocking back and forth, cradling Mina's warm body close to him as he looked into her unbothered expression with his being stained with a flood of tears. He supposed it was him trying to bring comfort to Mina, but as her gentle hand placed itself on his cheek and stroked with her thumb, he knew that this was all to comfort him.

"No, Mina why? Why would you do this? You had to have known, right? I would never ask you to do this, you had to have known that it wasn't me! Why, Mina? You didn't have to do this." He whispered

Kafka could barely get the words out over the snot and bile building up in his throat. His tears soaked his cheeks and fell like rain onto Mina's hand. His face felt like it was on fire as he sniffed hard and tried to clear his throat. Holding her in his hands made any attempt of composure in vain as it just reaffirmed to him that what was done was irreversible. The Third Division lost its captain, but it certainly didn't feel like he had gained back his friend. He tried to restrain his violent sobs as he felt her arms tighten around his neck, pulling his body down over and closer to Mina. His arms tightened in return as he felt the other hand come up to play soothingly in his hair, the other rubbing gentle circles over his spine.

"My heart... was already yours." She whispered into the crook of his thick neck, the vibrations of the words sending small shockwaves through his torso.

All Kafka could bring himself to do was cry. Cry and scream and cry again until his voice became shot and he had no more tears to shed. Hands forever tight around his new heart.

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(Some thoughts I had while writing this that won't fit into tags well)

Real quick, I just wanna mention that this is based off of a recent theory that I developed after reading chapter 118 and its that Kn8' true power isn't that fact that he's a shape shifter, or that he's got super strength or a sonic screech or anything else.

His true power is that he can turn hearts into cores, indirectly making itself partially immortal. (we could be immortals, immortals...)

So I see the end of this story going one of two ways:

One: Once the Third Division finds out what happened, they all come to a mutual agreement that they want their hearts cryogenically frozen after death so that Kaiju Number 8 is forever supplied with back-up cores. This ending kinda gives off this lovecraftian feel where in the future, Kaiju Number 8 stops being considered a Kaiju at some point and is more of an amalgamation of undying spirits that haunt the base forevermore.

Two: Kafka pulls a Hellsing Ultimate Abridged. He fights against Papaw first and then proceeds to fight and kill every soul that inhabits his core, ultimately evicting the collective consciousness that made his powers in the first place and distills it into himself. The only better way I think I can explain this is "Imagine Venom bonding to Eddie and then something happening to Eddie, causing Venom to sort of... recreate Eddie. But it's just Venom, so now it's like if Venom was his own host." Kafka is now Kafka, the parasite, and the Kaiju all at once. (He also somehow figures out a way to spit Mina out into her own body so she's fine.)

He's not a human that can turn into a Kaiju or the other way around. By Legal Definition he is, technically, the first, true, Human Kaiju.

[yandere-daydreams]

Ngl as much as I ready literally everything you write im glad we are on a jjk grind bc I have never and will never play genshin (storage and also the one time I played I was bad at it) so I was a bit loss whenever I read ur fics (still love them tho) so im glad to know what’s going on in ur fics

completely understandable T-T i do try not to go too heavily into the lore bc i know a lot of people do not play/watch the stuff i write for, but sometimes i just,,, get so into it that i forget that everyone doesn't know about the three identical raiden shoguns and the minute differences between their individual personalities/backstories that make them identifiable despite very much sharing a literal body. at least jjk lore easier to explain (there are monsters (curses) and magic people (sorcerers) have to fight them but sometimes they don't (curse users)), even if i do kind of miss having to have 32 wiki for one paragraph of a single fic.

[curseofdelos]

The Anatomy of a Three-Headed Dog (1/1)

Relationship(s): Solangelo Word Count: 3.8k Summary: “How many brains does Cerberus have? Do the heads think independently?” Trust Will to have a mountain of questions about a three-headed dog’s biology. Then again, maybe it’s on Nico for not expecting that this playdate would involve a detailed analysis of Cerberus’s brain functionality. (Post-canon fic in which Nico introduces Will to Cerberus for the first time.)

[Read on Ao3]

[daddyplasmius]

this is let grief do its work, a fic (currently unedited rip) I started as a kind of sister fic to hand on my stupid heart, another fic I'd written earlier and uh. yeah. you guessed it. haven't finished. I'm working on this on the side, Flying Over the Pit of Death + its sister fic & my original novels being my main focuses right now. I will most likely continue lgdiw sometime in the future, it just isn't my main priority. Like all of my fics, this idea is free for anyone to take & run with. if/when I finish this fic, the edited version will go on ao3. For context: this is just a prologue of sorts, depicting vaguely what is happening on the human side of the Portal the month after the Accident. On Danny's side, he's been chillin' in the Ghost Zone, where he ended up after half-dying, believing he's fully dead (he's not) & only realized he's still alive after it was too late for him to tell everyone what happened cuz like, awkward & embarrassing lol. HOMSH takes place a year later, when things come to a head. I feel it's important to reiterate that, although Danny isn't actually dead, the characters think he is & act accordingly. okay author's infodump note complete, fic under a readmore

“when they first go, let yourself think every selfish, no-good, dirty, angry, filthy, horrible thought. let the waves of anger wash through you. let grief do its work.” ーCaitlyn Siehl; Grief Counseling

On the first day, Sam had thought that, maybe, Danny was just busyーtoo busy to answer their texts, and their calls, and everything else. But then Tucker called her. It was a horrible game of telephone at first. Danny’s parents told Jazz, who told Tucker, who told Sam, and that’s how the communication went for two days until she and Tuck had enough.

They went to FentonWorks, the big, ugly building on the corner of Mockingbird and Cedar, and were surprised to find no one home at all. Not even Jazz. And, for the first time since they’d known the Fentons, the doors were locked. And when they tried to talk to Jazz later, they would find that they’ve officially filed a police report.

ー

Danny Fenton is missing. The last time Sam talked to him she was making fun of him, for being too scared to go check out the Fentons’ new Ghost Portal. She knew he was freaked out by stuff like thatーby ghosts. Now she doesn’t know if she’ll ever see him again.

There’s just no way. He can’t be gone. She literally saw him on Saturday. His empty seat in homeroom on the first day of school is the thing that does it. There’s this gap in the desks where he should be, but he’s not. Like he’s already haunting her.

It makes her sick. Everythingーeverything in her head, everything she knows. Despite what Dash and his asshole friends say, Danny wouldn’t run away. And the longer a person is missing, the more likely it is that they’reー

Sam doesn’t wait for the bell. She leaves Tucker in homeroom, goes straight to the bathroom, and wipes her face down in the sink, water turning black. Suddenly, everything macabre, everything dark and creepyーit just disgusts her.

She goes home early. No one even says anything, not the school, not her parents, not Tucker. Alone in her room, Sam starts to shake. She sobs once, something seething just under her skin. She stalks over to the wall where most of her horror movie posters are taped and starts tearing them down, one by one.

ー

Danny Fenton has been missing for a week, and Tucker, staring at the sweater his best friend forgot at his house, laid across his computer chair, thinks he’s starting to feel it.

Opening his phone, he feels it again. Looking at his texts, he feels it again, and again, and again.

Saturday • 4:47 p.m. Danny Phantom: xD Danny Phantom: not playing tonight, ghost portal opening night 👻 Danny Phantom: can play tmrw tho Too Fine: hell ya txt u then Danny Phantom: 👍 Sunday • 10:20 a.m. Too Fine: yo still up 4 doomed Too Fine: dued Too Fine: dude* Too Fine: you there Sunday • 10:21 a.m. Too Fine: txt me when you wanna play Sunday • 11:58 a.m. Too Fine: you up?

Tucker lets his phone fall on his bed. He doesn’t bother checking in with Sam. She’s been out of school and ignoring him for the last three days. It’s almost been a week sinceー

He gets up and stumbles to his chair. He sits down, careful not to mess up Danny’s NASA hoodie. Tucker turns on his desktop, types in his password, checks his emails. He messes around for as long as he can before he literally cannot take it anymore. He just can’t ignore it.

God. His best friend is gone. Is he coming back? Is heー

It’s like something inside his chest cracks. Without thinking, he pulls the NASA hoodie into his lap, and then over his head. It’s been here too long. It still has that smell of ozone and copper on it, though.

Tucker leans back in his chair and stares at the wall.

ー

Danny was home. That’s the thing. The last time Jazz saw him, he was inside the house, and she never saw him leave. He must have, at some point. She has no idea why, or for what, but he must have. It’s the only rational explanation. Danny left. Something happened. He never came home.

She feels the panic rising, gripping her throat again. She puts the candle down on the bleachers. Wipes her face. Whoever is speaking to the crowd of students holding vigil is a mess of white noise in her ears. It doesn’t help. It should and it doesn’t. A lot of things are the opposite of what Jazz knowsーthought they are.

She almost wishes it had just happened at home, been a little less drawn out.

As soon as it pops into her head, she feels sick, disgusted at herself.

But no one goes missing this long and lives. A very small percentage do. And if it had been some accident in the lab, like she always feared would happen, at least they’d have a body to mourn. At least they would know.

ー

Sam’s parents pretend they aren’t happy. They have to look worried, grieving, because what would the neighbours think if they didn’t? She can see through it, unlike them. They always hated the Fentons. They always hated Danny. They always hated Sam’s fascination with the macabre.

Well. They got what they wanted.

It’s like he’s in everything. She isn’t even looking for him, and he’s still there, still everywhereー

Sam rubs her eyes on her sleeve before she can properly cry. There’s no body. He could still come back. A month is a lot, but he could stillーhe could show up. Someone could find him alive. He could be alive.

Her parents look at her from across the lavish, stupidly large, solid wood table. She should know what type of wood it is but it’s like the information is behind a fogbank. She can see the silhouette. She just can’t make it out. Mom places her cutlery down neatly, dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin, and clears her throat.

“Sammy-kins…” She starts, and the rage inside Sam bubbles up like lava bursting through rock. “There’s been… We…”

She looks to the side for help, from dad. He looks incredibly awkward for a moment before turning to Sam with an expression she hasn’t seen since grandpa died.

“Saman… Sam.” He says, simply, slowly, and the lava in Sam’s gut turns cold, and heavy. “They’ve found evidence that has given them reasons to believe that… your friend is gone.” He’s never spoken this softly. Ever. His voice is barely audible above the blood rushing in her ears. “They’ve called off the search.”

ー

Tucker didn’t expect nightmares. He wakes up and he panic-cries into his pillow and hopes to whatever god or deity is listening that ghosts in dreams aren’t real. He can’t explain the fear. Everything is incredibly normal, more normal than his dreams ever have been, and then Danny walks in.

He would give anything for this to happen, right now, in real life. He’s afraid, though. In his dreams, a sheer terror overcomes him. He can’t get away fast enough. He can still hear his own voice echoing in his head. “You’re dead! You’re dead!”

It’s a wrongness he can’t quite graspーor doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to be afraid of his best friend. Tucker wants him back so badly. But his brain knows the truth, even if Tuck is digging his heels in and refusing to budge.

Someone knocks on his door, and he tenses.

“Tucker, sweetie? It’s…” Mom takes a deep breath. “It’s time to go.”

He grits his teeth and shoves his face into his pillow so hard he can’t get air. He stays like this until he can’t. He gets up.

Tucker walks across the floor like a zombie, barely aware of what he’s even doing. He manages to put on the suit his mom put out for him yesterday, and goes downstairs. He refuses breakfast. The three of themーmom, dad, Tuckerーgo out to the car, and drive to his best friend’s funeral.

ー

Jazz stares at the closed casket. There’s a pair of police officers out of uniform, or maybe detectives, standing in the corner by the photo album laid out on a table looking haunted. Aunt Alicia, uncharacteristically wearing a plain, black dress, sits with mom and dad at the other side of the room. Jazz stares at the casket and she tries to imagine that it’s not empty. That it isn’t making her scream inside with the frustration of it all. Her baby brother is gone. They couldn’t even find him. And probably never will. Because that’s how these things end.

Tucker walks into the room. Dark bags circle his unfocused eyes. His parents are right behind him, his father’s hand on his shoulder. Tucker looks at the casket. He turns away, catching sight of Jazz, and when his parents break off to meet hers, Tucker walks over.

He picks at his sleeves. Says nothing. Jazz tries to pick at the grief counseling she knows she’s studied for fun, but finds herself falling short.

She doesn’t see Sam or Mr. and Mrs. Manson walk in, but suddenly they’re there as well, smiling tightly and giving their condolences to Jazz’s parents. Sam doesn’t walk over. She stands in a corner and stares at a wall with purpose.

Jazz breathes slowly, willing her heart to stop pounding. She counts the stages she can see in front of her.

Too much Acceptance, all from strangers who never even knew him personally. She glances at Dash Baxter, tugging on his tie and looking annoyed. She can feel Anger in her. But also Denial. Bargaining. Depression.

And somehow, Acceptance, too.

They’re not stages. She never really got that before. You feel them all at once, all the time, and they don’t go away. The intensity changes, turning from a background hum to bright bursts of emotion at any little reminder.

She looks at Tucker out of the corner of her eye. She wonders if he’s feeling that way too. Being bombarded by the stages of grief in a way no one prepared them for. Is this why mom and dad never let them get any pets? Besides Danny’s gerbil, which promptly disappeared before she could even get used to the rodent’s smell. What happened to it? Was it rehomed, or is its body still somewhere around the house, unfound, unlooked for?

The stages start over, skipping between Depression, Anger, Denial, the emotions falling over themselves. She wished the cops would leave.

Not soon enough, it’s over. The funeral home employees usher them out, the rooms and halls now empty. The drive home is simultaneously the longest and shortest ever. She stares up at the brick and all she wants to do is sleep. She heads inside intending to do just that.

She takes her shoes off at the door. Mom and dad take off their jacks and move to settle in the living room. Mom is holding a tissue to her eye. Jazz hesitates for just a moment.

Should she do something? She feels like she should do something, anything. She wants to suggest therapy. She’s afraid to open her mouth, though. Jazz can feel the blame on the back of her tongue, ready to spill out. That would be the worst thing for her to do, and she doesn’t know if she has the strength to hold it back, because for fucks sake, if they just watched their children, this wouldn’t have happened.

Jazz turns to the stairs and starts climbing them. She doesn’t get halfway before she’s blinded by drywall dust and knocked off her feet.