#and they got defensive and other people did too etc

[andialmostdo]

do you guys ever think back at an interaction you had with someone and wish you could undo it because the things you did is eating you alive bc that’s me right now 😩

[1d1195]

HOV

~8k words

From me: a one-shot

Warnings: enemies to lovers (because WHY NOT), panicked Harry, car accident, hospital visit, etc.

Summary: Two environmentally friendly people carpool to work and almost kill each other every day. Harry brakes too much. She lets people go when it's not their turn. She gets crumbs all over her car. Harry listens to really boring podcasts. Harry thinks she's beautiful even if she's annoying. She thinks Harry is unbelievably sexy even if his opinion of her music is rude.

It’s for the environment. It’s for the environment. It’s for the environment.

Every day he waited for her to get to his car he had to chant it to himself that it was worth it. “We’re not going to fight today,” he mumbled to himself as she left the apartment building. It was exactly one building next to his and so it made sense.

She looked really pretty. She always did. It was brutal on his psyche because he wanted to like her. He was desperate to like her, but she was just so... annoying. But her hair was half up in a clip, pieces spilled from it almost artfully. That was the only way he could describe her: art. Harry wasn’t sure if she wore makeup, he suspected she did but if he found out she was naturally that stunning he wouldn’t have been surprised either.

Her dress pants looked perfect on her legs, not quite painted on but close. Her bright blue button down was tucked in and complimented her complexion so well. She wore a pair of heels to complete her look which he knew she didn’t like doing so he was bracing for her complaints—she was much more of a flats person; but she felt she had to wear them to be taken seriously. She looked professional, beautiful, but approachable.

Harry took a deep breath trying to quell the frustration, anxiety, and adoration he had for her before she got in the car. We’re not going to fight today.

“Hi,” she greeted quietly.

“Hi,” he answered as she got settled. She put her coffee mug in the cup holder, her lunch bag and work bag went to the floor by her feet. Harry much preferred her weekend look, and he was sure she did too; sweatpants, a hoodie or T-shirt, sneakers or slippers was much more her style and she wore that just as beautifully as she did her professional outfit.

Jesus Christ it was going to be a long week. How was it only Monday?

“Do y’have a presentation today?” He asked as she finally settled herself into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, why?” Harry noted she was immediately distrustful and did his best to ignore it because he was trying, with everything in him, to be polite and kind. More than he usual.

“Y’look nice,” he shrugged.

“As in I don’t usually look nice?” She asked defensively. “Are you playing a trick on me? Is this a joke?”

That was short-lived. He sighed and looked at the ceiling for help like the answer to this complicated woman was going to be there, finally. “No, s’not a joke. Y’always look nice, love. But y’look extra nice today.”

“Oh,” she pouted, the pucker between her eyebrows making itself known. He was used to seeing it and he found it cute since she looked so serious and her face was just so sweet it almost didn't make sense for her to look so grumpy. But Harry knew better. “Thank you,” she murmured, surprise laced in her voice. “Sorry... I’m nervous,” she explained.

He frowned. “M’sure you’ll be fine.”

“Mm.”

They didn’t speak for several moments. Silence was a lot better for them. Less of a chance to argue with one another. “How was your weekend?” She asked. Small talk was typically safe. As long as there wasn’t a lot of details.

“Good, finished m’book,” but he didn’t offer what he read because he knew they didn’t share the same taste in book genres and she would probably wrinkle her cute little nose in distaste. “How was yours?”

“Fine, visited my friend,” but she didn’t say which one because he would just tell her how she was being used for her money and networking to get into nice restaurants. The silence continued for another few minutes. She scrolled on her phone then pulled her laptop out of her bag. There was about forty minutes until they reached their office so maybe she would go over her presentation.

Harry would have offered to listen to it, but from experience, she would argue every point of constructive criticism he had to offer—only because he had done the very same. In actuality, her presentation was probably perfect. There was no need for her to be nervous. But as she had explained many times over, she was a woman in a corporate office with a bunch of men who didn’t trust her. She had to work twice as hard to get things done her way.

The silence was interrupted by her stomach growling loud enough for Harry to hear it. He sighed and rolled his eyes like it was a major inconvenience for him. “What, Harry? What?” She grumbled.

“Why don’t y’jus’ eat before y’leave?”

“I told you, I’m nervous about my presentation today.”

“What’s your excuse for the other days?”

“Happy Monday,” she grumbled and put her head on the window. But of course, at that moment Harry stomped on the brake as he was wont to do. Meaning her head all but smacked off the glass. “Ow! For God’s sake, Harry! You don’t have to slam on the brakes!”

“I’m not,” she pulled the visor down to look in the mirror to inspect her forehead as if it was going to create a bruise instantly. “My God, you’re dramatic,” he muttered under his breath.

“You drive like a grandma,” she retorted.

“What, safely?!” He hissed through his teeth. He wanted to actually slam on the brakes. Her stomach growled again only further fueling his annoyance with her. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he pulled off the closest exit and headed for a nearby coffee shop so she could get a pastry or something for her.

“We don’t need to stop.”

“You need t’eat something. Sounds like y’trapped an animal in there.”

Her cheeks felt warm with his comparison. “That’s so fucking rude Harry.”

“I don’t care, y’need t’eat!”

“I’m not hungry. I’m nervous about my presentation.”

“S’gonna be a shitty presentation if y’stomach keeps growling over the sound of your voice.”

She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and turned to look at the window. “I’m too nervous to eat; thank you for caring in your overbearing, aggressive way, but I won’t eat anything. I’ll eat a granola bar from my desk when we get to the office,” she explained.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head but returned to the highway after their tiny detour. “You’re sure?”

“Yup. Can’t eat in the car anyway and I don’t want to be any later than we already are.”

“Late,” his eyes were going to get stuck trying to look at the back of his brain. “You’re ridiculous.”

The spat simmered tensely in the silent air between them. They went a whole four minutes without arguing. That had to be a record, even for them.

*

The drive home was much less tense almost always. Usually, they were both too drained to speak to one another, so it made it a lot easier to tolerate the other person’s existence.

So, it was Harry’s fault that they argued again on the way home.

“How was your presentation?” He asked politely.

“Fine,” she shrugged.

“Jus’ fine?” He frowned. “Y’were all worked up ‘bout it this morning.”

“Yeah, because no one takes me seriously,” she snorted, but her laugh didn’t have a trace of real humor in it.

“Right, so it was just fine?”

“What are you looking for here Harry?” Her irritation was evident in her voice.

“I don’t know, a better adjective? Y’got through t’them? They hated it? Fine makes y’sound like a teen coming home from school.”

She rolled her eyes. “They’re going to table my idea for another day,” she sounded exhausted, and Harry was tired too, so in hindsight, he was willing to take the entire blame for the argument and subsequent tense ride home.

“How do y’feel ‘bout that?”

“What do you even care for, Harry? What’s with the interrogation?”

“Forget it,” he sighed. “I was jus’ making conversation. Y’didn’t even ask how my day was.”

“How was your day?” She snapped.

“Fine.”

Her hands clenched into fists in her lap, and she inhaled deeply. “Don’t talk to me,” she grumbled.

“Fine by me.”

*

She drove every other day; it was their routine. It saved wear and tear on their cars and since her car was a hybrid, they really saved on gas and were doing their part to save the environment. If either of them had a car appointment or stayed home sick, then the other one would of course drive and they would pick up the following day, right where they left off.

When she drove, however, Harry was even grumpier, somehow. Though, it seemed impossible someone could be grumpier. But she made him leave an hour earlier than necessary. Harry was already awake and ready but he very much enjoyed a gradual wake up. He liked the time in the morning to do the daily NYT crossword puzzle and to meditate or workout before going to the office.

He did not like arguing an hour earlier than normal.

“It’s for the environment,” she mumbled to herself as Harry approached. He was otherworldly handsome. He looked like he should have been a model, not a financial wizard. His hair was perfectly messy, his eyes sparkled, and his entire frame was just meant to tempt her. In a suit (which he wore every weekday), he looked fan-fucking-tastic. Everything ironed crisply, his tie perfectly straight. He was sincerely hot—there was no other way to describe him.

But his weekend look? When she saw him out and about lounging in joggers and T-shirts that clung to every muscle in his torso? That was her favorite version of him. They usually ran into each other on nice weather days when they both wanted sunshine and air. Harry jogged a lot. She would read on the bench in front of her building. Sometimes they saw one another at the grocery store. But given they spent two hours every day in an enclosed area and argued for nearly the entire time, they were not spending any more of their weekend doing the same thing, so not much more than a polite hello was said between them.

“Good morning,” he murmured as he got in and settled his bag at his feet. Harry didn’t have a presentation to prep so he was planning on sleeping and meditating this morning with his head propped against the window.

“Morning,” she answered softly.

“Sleep okay?” He asked. “The rain and wind woke me a lot.”

“Same,” she agreed. “You’re going to try and sleep then?”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “S’that okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It felt less tense today. We’re not going to argue, she thought to herself.

While Harry slept, she remained focused on the road. Her mind making a mental to do list for when she arrived at the office. She knew Harry hated getting there early, but her brain focused so much better without people constantly bothering her.

For a company that clearly had it out for a woman in finance, they sure did need her a whole lot.

She had music on low that she sang quietly along with while Harry slept. If it bothered him, he didn’t say anything today.

Even with Harry sleeping most of the way, it had to be a record that they didn’t argue all the way until they were a mere five minutes from their building. Naturally, their getting along came to an abrupt end. A truck roared in front of her, cutting her off and merging with very little space between them so it could get to the next lane and off at the next turn. It made her gasp and slam on her brakes at the same time. Instinctively, she tossed her arm out to save Harry from whiplash, her arm pressed to the front of his body. “What the fuck!?” He shouted and jolted awake.

“Sorry! Sorry! I was—” She dropped her arm quickly and her hand went back to the steering wheel quickly, hiding the shake she felt in it.

“Were y’letting someone randomly go again?”

She had a penchant for being too polite on the road—it was Harry’s least favorite thing about her driving habits. “N-no—” her palms were sweating against the wheel, her heart pounding as she gripped at it tighter. She parked and felt a wave of frustration and worry fall over her. Even some embarrassment as Harry yelled at her.

She hated being cut off by another driver. It made her so nervous. She wasn’t a car person, but hers was her baby. She didn’t want anything to happen to it and if being a little extra nice and cautious on the road would keep it safe, then she would do it.

“S’more dangerous t’be polite,” he grumbled. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorr—”

“Jus’ another reason we should get here so fucking early,” he snapped. “Forget it,” he shook his head and got out of the car and headed into the building without looking at her again. Still shaking, she pouted, took a few calming breaths and composed herself before she followed Harry’s path to their office building.

*

On the ride home she stopped for coffee and kindly purchased Harry one as well without asking—but when he heard her order it at the drive-through, he felt the argument from the morning disappearing slowly from his mind. “Thanks,” he mumbled from beside her.

“You’re welcome,” she figured less would be more in talking to him—especially after their morning.

But it didn’t help that she let two people merge in front of her as they got on the highway—almost like she was still nervous from this morning. Harry sighed heavily, like he was personally inconvenienced by her kindness to other drivers. She ignored it and continued home. Harry watched as she bit into a powdered donut she got. He rolled his eyes.

“What?” She asked through a mouthful, the sugar floated all over herself and her gearshift. He shook his head.

“S’a messy donut.”

“It’s my car,” she pouted. It was hard to take her seriously when she had powdered sugar all over her mouth. She was pretty adorable with sugar all over her cheeks, though, Harry would give her that.

“If y’want t’trade y’car in, they like it to be clean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not getting rid of her ever.”

He just shook his head again. Some mornings she ate a breakfast sandwich and Harry watched the crumbs of her croissant rain on her outfit like confetti while she drove with one hand on the wheel. His car was pristine while hers was not. There were half empty water bottles in the back and random pieces of her “emergency” kit strewn about in the boot of her car in a way that Harry doubted would ever help if there was truly an emergency. There were blankets and reusable grocery bags all across the backseat—there was just no order. Which was so weird because she was one of the most organized people he knew.

“Y’know y’shouldn’t use plastic water bottles,” he rebuked as he caught sight of another one on the floor behind him.

She sighed. “I recycle them, Harry. Do you honestly think I don’t care about the environment when we carpool every day? Do you think that arguing with you for an hour and a half every day is because I hate the environment?”

“Forget it,” he sighed not wanting to argue. “How was your day?” He asked trying to recreate the tension free car ride that was present first thing this morning before they fought in the parking lot.

“It was okay,” she shrugged but immediately, Harry knew it was a lie. He quirked one eyebrow at her in disbelief and her unsure tone. With a bigger sigh, she relented. “I got yelled at for something that wasn’t my fault and then I didn't even get an apology when they realized it wasn’t.”

Harry frowned. “Did y’say something?”

“Did I try to hurt the male ego?" She shook her head with another eye roll. "Harry, I would never.”

He smirked and looked out the window. She was funny. Even if she was annoying. “Y’have no problem hurting my ego.”

“I hurt your ego?” She asked in surprise. He shrugged and nodded with a smirk still on his lips. That cute little wrinkle between her eyebrows pinched together and made itself known again. Harry once more was overcome by how adorable she was. He didn’t understand her question. Or why she cared. But he wished he had paid closer attention to her reaction because she suddenly looked so upset. “I didn’t know that,” her voice was soft. “I’m... I’m sorry, Harry,” and it really sounded like she was.

He blinked. “S’fine,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I know y’don’t mean it.”

“I don’t, truly.” It felt really important that Harry knew that. Maybe it was her crummy day. Coworkers continued to not trust her nor believe she was capable of doing well, which made her feel worse. God why did she continue working where she wasn’t wanted? Where she wasn’t appreciated? She was still a little shaken from her almost accident and her uncanny ability to piss Harry off. She was suddenly very forlorn over the idea that she had hurt Harry in any way. “How...how was your day?” She asked tentatively her voice catching.

“It was good,” he nodded, but he was looking at her suspiciously and the sound of anxiety coating her words. “Ordinary... Nothing t’really report... Who yelled at you, by the way?”

“No one, it’s nothing,” she shook her head quickly.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Then jus’ tell me, love. S’not a big deal.”

She sighed, irritated, dejected, and tired of arguing. “Do you know Jason?”

Harry scoffed. “He’s a prick and can’t add two plus two. Don’t let him get t’you. Sorry he yelled at you.”

It was one of the nicest things Harry had ever said on her behalf. “S’not your fault,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, but he shouldn’t. M’sure y’do everything perfectly. He’s probably jealous and stupid and everything else.”

“Thank you,” her voice was still soft. Her eyes felt misty at his kindness. Harry being nice on top of her shitty day was so overwhelming—too overwhelming.

Harry noticed right away. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine,” she nodded, wiping at her cheek.

“Y’don’t look fine, love... Why don’t y’pull over? I don’t want you t’drive if you’re emotional. S’not safe.”

She sniffed. “It’s fine. I’m just being overly sensitive. Not a lot of sleep and... It just... it wasn’t a very good day,” she swiped her hand beneath her nose and wiped her below her eye again while her words got caught in her throat a few times as she spoke.

“Hey,” his voice was gentle. More gentle than it ever had been toward her. “Please, love... jus’ pull over,” he encouraged quietly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Love, please,” he pleaded. “S’okay t’be emotional.”

“No, it’s not,” she whimpered but pulled to the shoulder of the road at the same time as she heaved on a shaky breath. Cars whizzed past them and Harry watched her closely. “I work in a sea of testosterone, and I’m never appreciated, never respected, and I can’t be emotional,” she fanned her hand in front of her eyes trying to will the tears away. “Especially in front of you.”

“Me?” He pouted, anger took the forefront of his mind, but he had never seen her like this. He felt bad because she was so upset. So, he refrained from snapping back at her.

“You’ll just use it against me or save it for a rainy day to embarrass me.”

“Is that what you really think?” He tutted, his voice devoid of emotion.

She sniffled again. “Yeah... you yelled at me this morning... I didn’t mean to jostle you like that but someone cut me off and—”

She was still upset about that? That seemed like a lifetime ago. Yeah, Harry was irritated, but he felt bad she was holding onto something so small all day. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Her day must have been really shitty if she let one of their arguments take hold of her emotions all day long.

“Hey... hey don’t cry. M’sorry—I shouldn’t have—it doesn’t matter... But y’have t’know, I would never do that, love. M’sorry if I’ve made y’feel that way,” he soothingly rubbed her arm up and down. “S’okay,” he reassured her. “M’gonna drive the rest of the way home. Jus’ slide over for me, love, yeah?” He asked and before she could protest, he was getting out of the car and going to the driver’s side. Not that she really wanted to protest.

But she would have if they were in a parking lot or on a non-highway road. She tried the door handle but Harry shook his head as he approached the driver’s door and jutted his chin to the passenger seat again. Again, she might have argued, but she didn’t want Harry subjected to the busy traffic for any longer, so she awkwardly slid over the console as Harry stayed pressed to the side of the car.

One small piece of her brain realized the most handsome man she knew wasn't letting her get out on the traffic-side. It was a protective, chivalrous moment that made her stomach do a somersault.

Once in the passenger seat, she brushed the powdered sugar that was on the driver's side just before he sat and got powder all over her pants. “Why don’t y’nap or something?” He suggested quietly and pulled into traffic again without any other fanfare.

“Alright,” she sniffed. “Thanks, sorry again.”

“No problem, love,” he mumbled and drove the rest of the way home in silence. He hoped she felt a little better by the time he parked and gently shook her awake. He didn’t say much other than he would see her tomorrow and returned her keys to her. “Have a good night, love,” he murmured as he gathered his belongings and left before they could return to their natural instinct of arguing with one another.

*

After her mini meltdown she was really hopeful that they had turned a corner in their arguing. She couldn’t remember who started the first argument so long ago. When they realized they lived near one another and worked at the same place, it only made sense to carpool. But she didn’t know they would find fault in every little thing.

Harry was constantly late. (But he wasn’t. Not really. He was on time. Which may as well have been late in her book.) It made her insane. He braked too hard—just like the other day. His choice in podcasts was too real and scary at times (she couldn’t get on the true crime train). His favorite book genre was history, which was fine, but he often made fun of the lighter romance novels she liked. There was the no eating in the car rule. And of course, there was his constant backseat driving—it was never-ending.

It's for the environment. She reminded herself.

It was another long day. Her meetings didn’t go well. Her coworkers undervalued her worth and if wasn’t for the fact that her main supervisor gave her stunning reviews and the money was so good, she would have quit ages ago.

Harry was irritated, and she wasn’t sure why. She had cleaned her car over the weekend. She even had it detailed so it was as pretty as Harry’s car. All her blankets were neatly folded, water bottles recycled, and she organized the trunk. There was a new air freshener and everything.

And yet, Harry was still annoyed. He turned the fan off. Twice. She adjusted the settings, they hadn’t even left the parking garage, and he still turned it off. “S’hot.”

“It’s not hot,” she grumbled.

“It feels like m’sweating. Gonna have a heat stroke.”

“Well, I’m cold.”

“Of course you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

It seemed Harry’s day wasn’t too good either as he was just as willing to argue and just as willing to stand his ground. While they argued they continued turning the temperature knob from one extreme to the other.

“You’re gonna break it!” She whined.

“You’re such a brat.”

Her neck snapped to face him. Her cheeks felt hot with embarrassment. “A brat!?” Her voice was three octaves higher than normal. It felt like the car was shaking.

“Yes, a brat who throws a fit when y’don’t get your way. All the time. Y’want t’leave an hour earlier. Y’want t’eat in the car. Roll the windows down, no now up. Y’want t’listen t’your dumb radio station that is ninety-percent ads. You’re. A. Brat.”

She did slam on her brakes at his explanation. She pulled toward the sidewalk right outside their office building. “Get. Out.”

Harry stared in disbelief. “You’re joking,” he cackled.

“I’m tired of arguing. You’re such a dick to me all the time,” she smacked her hand on the steering wheel. “I had a bad day, and you clearly had a bad day and you can’t leave well enough alone! So yeah. The environment can spare two less people carpooling. Get out of my fucking car, Harry Styles before I run us both into a telephone pole.”

“You’re so judgmental and so ridiculous—”

“Get out!” She practically shrieked.

Harry glared, yanking his stuff from where it sat at his feet. He got out of the car, slamming her door hard. He wouldn’t be surprised if it got stuck shut or if the whole frame shook as he did so. She peeled off the curb leaving Harry to fume. They never fought like that. Almost all their arguments always ended in a quiet “good night” or “have a good day.” Never did she shove him out of the car.

He was simmering with anger. He paced a few steps on the sidewalk trying to calm himself to figure out what to do. Maybe he could call her back. An Uber was going to cost a small fortune to get back home. Worth it, he supposed. God, she drained the life out of him.

He was breathing heavily. Good riddance. It was a dumb idea trying to carpool with someone that made him infuriated. Incensed with the feeling of being right, he scrolled on his app for a new ride.

Before he could submit his request for the most expensive Uber in the history of the world, all anger left his body—floated away as if it wasn’t even there in the first place.

There was a screech of tires and a sickening crunch of metal. Harry looked up just in time to see her car do a full 360 before landing upside down in the middle of the intersection. Her car teetered back and forth as it balanced on the roof. His jaw went slack as he watched the car of the pretty girl he was just arguing with crunch in the middle of the roadway. He was practically ready to strangle her himself but he never wanted—

“Oh my God,” he whispered to himself. Before he fully grasped his own movements he was sprinting into the middle of the roadway.

Without knowing what else to do, he knelt to the ground in a spray of plastic, metal, and glass, his face was almost pressed to the ground as he tried to peer into the only available space. “Baby? You with me?” He asked looking at the terrified, shaking girl. There was blood pouring from her hairline, her hands gripped the steering wheel around the deployed airbag like she was still driving.

“H-Harry?” She whispered. A switch flipped inside him. He wanted to rip the upside-down door off and yank her out. He wanted to hold her. All those annoying things she did, they didn’t bother him anymore. She was so pretty, so sweet, and so funny. The mere thought of her injured, terrified him and broke his heart. He didn't know he felt that way and he was mortified that it took this to realize it.

“M’here, love. M’here, you’re okay, just focus on me,” he was shaking as he dialed on his phone for the emergency line. “There’s been a car crash in the intersection outside of Prosperis Financial,” he said. “There’s at least one injured party.”

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I know. I know, my love. I know,” he cooed.

God how could he be so stupid? How could he get out of the car? How could he take so long to get out of the car? If they just didn’t fight, they would have been through the intersection and—

“Harry, my head hurts,” she interrupted his spiraling.

“I know, kitten, I know,” he repeated.

“A-and my leg hurts really bad,” she whispered a small break in her voice. She was shocked and in near tears.

“Don’t move your neck, baby,” he ordered.

“I’m scared,” she cried.

“I know, love, I know, m’scared too. But m’not going t'leave you for one second, baby, okay? You’re going t’be fine, everything’s going t’be fine,” he sounded pretty reassuring considering he was freaking out too.

“I didn’t—I didn't see it,” she sniffled.

“S’not your fault, kitten. S’okay. You’re okay, love. Just breathe, and keep talking, yeah?”

“I didn’t mean to yell at you...” she croaked, the anxiety in her voice broke his heart. He hated she felt she had to say it. “I don’t mean to, ever. I-I don’t know why—”

“Shh… we’re not talking ‘bout that. S’okay, my love. We’re okay,” he promised. She could argue whatever she wanted. Harry was in complete agreement. She was right. Every time. He did brake too hard. She wasn’t too nice to others on the road. She could eat in the car or have the heat on in the middle of the summer. Whatever she wanted.

“Okay... I'm sorry,” her voice sounded quiet.

“Help is coming, baby. M’not gonna leave your side, yeah? Jus’ hang on a little bit longer. I know—”

“I’m sorry I eat in your car sometimes,” she whispered her voice cracking more as she apologized for things that no longer mattered. “I’m sorry I’m a brat—”

“No, no, my love. You’re not a brat... shh...” he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her figure, clutching the wheel like she was scared to let go. His heart was aching to do something more, beating too loud in his ears. He wanted to keep her talking. Wanted to rip her out of the car and make sure she was alright. She could do whatever she wanted in his car for the rest of her life. As far as he was concerned, he would be driving her every day for the rest of time. She was never getting behind the wheel again. “S’okay, baby. Whatever makes y’happy.”

She sniffled. “Harry, I don’t feel very good,” she mumbled. “My head hurts.”

“I know it does, kitten,” his voice cracked hearing the exhaustion in her voice. “I’d trade with y’in a heartbeat,” he mumbled.

She sniveled. “I wanna get out.”

“I know, my love. M’trying. They’ll be here soon.”

“I’m scared,” her voice was soft again.

“Baby, I know,” he groaned. Where the fuck was the ambulance?!

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m glad you weren’t in the car,” she whispered. His heart shattered.

“M’not, kitten. M’not glad at all,” he shook his head.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” she warned and then her neck went limp.

“Baby?” Her hands slid from the steering wheel and her head lolled to the side. “Shit!” Harry reached through the broken glass, but the angle was too awkward, and he couldn’t see and reach at the same time. “Kitten, love,” his voice pitched an octave higher with hysteria quickly flooding him. “Baby? Open your eyes! Please,” he begged. “Kitten? Come on,” he muttered reaching blindly for her again. “Fuck,” he croaked.

“Excuse us, sir,” an EMT was finally at his side pushing Harry out of the way. He covered his mouth, sitting back on his heels as they pulled the car to its wheels once more. There was a flurry of movement as they pried through the metal and glass to get her. He choked on his breath as they removed her and he swallowed hard, his heart felt broken as they put a brace around her neck and lifted her onto a stretcher—still unconscious much to his horror. “Are you the boyfriend? Coming on the ambulance?” the paramedic asked.

“Yes,” he answered immediately and filed in behind them.

*

Harry called her mom and sister. They were on their way. He paced the waiting room with the biggest teddy bear the shop had to purchase while he waited for her surgery and tests to end. It felt endless. Harry thought he had aged ten years during the time he was there waiting.

He also got her a balloon—a heart shaped one that said get well soon. He got flowers. And chocolate too. Once he saw her pretty eyes open again and her family was present, he was going to get her a coffee and breakfast sandwich too.

His clothes were dirty from lying in the street, the knees of his slacks had the tiniest holes and rips. His cheek had a few cuts and scratches from pressing it to the ground while he spoke to her upside-down body.

“Are you the boyfriend?”

He shook the thoughts of seeing her bleeding, terrified body away from his mind at the sound of someone speaking to him.

It was hard to believe only yesterday he would have shuddered at the thought. “Yes,” he answered instantly, not caring in the slightest that he was lying for the second time in several hours about their relationship status. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine,” the doctor stated. Harry sighed with relief, dragged a hand through his hair and swallowed around the relieved tears that filled his eyes and cut off the voice in his throat. He coughed awkwardly.

“Can I see her?” He asked. “Please?”

“Yes, she’s just coming out of the anesthesia,” he explained and tilted his head toward the hallway. Harry grabbed all his presents for her and followed. “She’s a little out of it still,” he warned.

“But she’s okay?” He repeated like he didn't believe the doctor.

“Yes, she’s fine,” he knocked and opened the door.

“Oh, your boyfriend is here, miss,” an older nurse smiled at her as she fiddled with her pillows and the IV stand.

The sweet girl looked high as a kite, her eyes wide, the cut on her forehead stitched. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she frowned. That cute wrinkle between her brows appeared and Harry wanted nothing more than to smooth it away and ease the tension she felt.

“You might want to rethink that,” a woman smiled at Harry with a wink. “He’s very cute and he brought you gifts.”

“Hi, kitten, baby,” he cooed and crouched beside her bed.

“You’re my boyfriend?” She mumbled in surprise. Her eyes were so wide with the loopy medicine, and he smirked, tears filling his eyes again.

“Yes, my love,” he didn’t even feel like he was lying. To her nor to himself about their relationship. It made sense and he truly adored her so easily. He was grateful for the switch in his mind, he just wished a car accident wasn't the cause.

She smiled, self-satisfied. “I knew you liked me,” she mumbled.

He chuckled and leaned forward to press his lips against her forehead. “Y’okay, baby?” He asked.

“They gave me medicine,” she explained holding up her arm that had three or four needles sticking in it.

“Easy, kitten,” he grabbed her outstretched arm and cupped her hand in both of his with a chuckle. He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed her knuckles as the nurse pulled a chair up beside her for Harry to sit in.

“Harry," she said suddenly. Like he wasn't listening to her or paying attention to every little movement. "I broke my leg,” she pouted.

“M’sorry, kitten,” he was livid she was injured but with pain meds she was so cute and adorable that he almost chuckled at the way she sighed and frowned about her situation.

She glanced at their interconnected hands. “Have we been dating long? I didn’t know I had a boyfriend. Do I have amnesia?”

He snickered, kissed her fingers again. “No,” he shook his head. “S’quite new.”

“Oh,” she blinked and a smile grew on her face. “I like that you’re my boyfriend,” she sighed dreamily. “Isn’t he hot?” She asked the nurse who was checking her vitals again. Harry rolled his eyes, smirking and looking away from her and the nurse at her appraisal. It was good to know she felt affected by his presence as well. He liked her loopy thoughts and he hoped they would remain true when the medicine wore off. “Did you call my mom?” She asked curiously.

He nodded, cleared his throat as he focused on more important facts and not worrying about their fake relationship status. “Yes, she’s on her way with your sister. I need t’call them, actually,” he pulled his phone out.

“How did you get their number?”

“I looked them up on social media,” he mumbled keeping hold of one hand as he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Harry?” Her sister’s voice asked alertly.

“Hi Thea, she’s okay. M'sitting with her now. She’s loopy from the anesthesia but she’s awake.”

“Tell her to get me coffee,” she whispered loudly. Loud enough for her sister to hear through the phone. Harry smiled.

Thea sighed with relief and snickered. “Sounds like her,” she mumbled. “Thank you, Harry. We’re about twenty minutes out.”

“Of course,” he assured her. “You’ll tell your mum?” He asked.

“Yes, I got it.”

“See you soon.”

Harry placed his phone back in his pocket and watched her loopy mind work through something on her extremely expressive face. “Are you going to kiss me?” She giggled.

Harry laughed. “Later, baby.”

“When’s later?”

“When you’re a little coherent, m’love.”

She blew a breath through her lips making them sputter. “S’not fair.”

“I know,” the smile remained on his face knowing she was okay, and she wanted him to kiss her. It was a bit wild that the switch flipped so rapidly. This was someone he argued with for over two years every day and now he wanted to kiss her, hold her, and never let her go.

“Can I take a nap?” She yawned. “I’m sleepy.”

Harry turned to the nurse. “Can she? Does she have a concussion?”

“Shockingly, no concussion,” the nurse said reading the chart. “You can nap for a bit.”

She closed her eyes instantly. “Night Harry,” she sighed. “I love you.”

He felt his cheeks warm. Ignored her sweet words regardless of how much he would like them to be true. “Night, baby,” he chuckled and pressed another kiss to her forehead as she drifted to sleep without letting go of his hand.

*

When she woke up the next time she was staring at Harry in awe.  “Thea, I’m fine,” she rolled her eyes. The anesthesia had worn off a bit and she didn’t seem to remember she said I love you nor that Harry claimed to be her boyfriend. While she was hesitant to believe that Harry was really there for her, she was glad he was. She was foggy on the details but there was no mistaking that she felt a pull toward him. Maybe it was the kindness he showed her.

“You live in a fourth-floor apartment. You’re not fine. And your car is trash.”

Harry sat quietly to the side of the room while her mom and sister doted on her. Her mom was on the phone with the insurance company taking notes and questioning a lot. “Well, what am I supposed to do? I don't have a choice, I have to figure it out,” she shrugged.

“Figure what out? You’re going to just stay in your apartment for the next six weeks? You’ll go insane. And what if there’s a fire?”

“The chances of me getting in a car wreck and have my apartment catch on fire is probably astronomically small.”

Harry chuckled from his spot, but the sisters ignored him. “You hate your job. Why don’t you just quit and move back home for a bit?

Back home? Harry thought. Not next door? That wouldn't work for Harry's already obsessed heart. “I have a spare bedroom,” Harry said in offering. “First floor apartment in m'building next t'hers,” he was speaking to Thea and not her.

She and Thea both turned to look at him. “I cannot—” She started.

“Really?” Thea interrupted. “You won’t mind? She’s going to need... a lot of help.”

“I can handle it,” he assured her. Thea knew they drove together. She was also well aware that her sister and Harry argued every day. There was no way Harry was going to survive taking care of her if they couldn’t spend more than five minutes in a car without arguing with one another. She watched Harry, bewildered by his kindness toward her. His willingness to take care of her and let her be a burden when he couldn’t stand her most days. “Are y’alright with that, love?”

It might have only been minutes between arguing and her accident, but the change of heart in herself over Harry was something to be admired. Harry was there almost before her airbag finished deploying. He kept her as calm as he could while they waited for the ambulance and promised her it would be okay. He reassured her that all their arguing didn’t mean anything and she softened. She felt herself melting for him. All the little things he did no longer bothered her. He really didn’t slam on the brakes. It was rude of her to want to eat in his car and make a mess. Perhaps it was too hot in her car and she was a little too mean about his favorite book genre.

Am I in love with Harry? She thought to herself. “If...if you’re sure... That’s an awful lot of time to spend with me,” she reminded him wondering if it was only her that was warmed by the near-death experience and she was imagining the knight-and-shining-armor-complex.

“Happy to,” he nodded and remained in his seat.

Harry was holding her hand when her sister and mom arrived, he gave her a gentle shake and called her kitten. Kitten your mum s’here. His voice was so warm and soothing. He didn’t remove his hand until she opened her eyes and his kind smile was a sweet greeting. He cupped her face and brushed his thumb against her jaw. M’gonna sit by the window while they visit, yeah?

“Do you ladies need anything?” He asked standing. “Coffee? Tea? Food?”

“All set, thank you Harry,” her mom smiled around the phone.

“I’m good too,” Thea nodded.

“Baby, all good?”

She nearly choked on her own spit hearing the pet name directed at her, in front of her family.  “Yes,” she murmured then shook her head. “Um... maybe just water?”

“Sure, love. Be right back.”

“I thought he hated you,” Thea was smiling excitedly.

“I thought he did too,” she shrugged a shoulder.

“You’re just going to live with him?”

She smirked. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?”

*

Harry carried all her stuff into his apartment and settled it in the spare room. He made sure she was safe in his apartment while he went with her sister to her place to get a suitcase of her clothes from next door. Harry was going to take her to get a new car as soon as the insurance check came through. He helped her to the couch and made sure she felt comfortable. Her foot was propped on a pillow as she stretched out on his furniture. For six weeks they were going to live together.

“Are y'in any pain? Do y’need anything?” He asked making sure she had the remote, a book, water, and blanket all within reach.

“M’fine,” she nodded.

“You sure y’don’t need anything?” He frowned.

“Harry,” she reached for his hand and held it. “Could you sit with me?”

His frown deepened. He crouched beside her, sitting on the coffee table close to her. He squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Thank you for being there for me,” she whispered. “I was very scared.”

“Course, baby.”

Her heart skipped a beat with the sweet name again. “Do you like me?” She whispered.

“Was I unclear?” He asked, reaching for her face. His hand fit her cheek perfectly and he rubbed his thumb on her lower lip. The way his eyes softened as he looked at her was the stuff of her romance novels. His eyelids lowered and the smile on his mouth was equal parts sexy as it was innocent. “S’a little selfish of me inviting you here while you recover, don't y'think? S'a reason for it, love."

She cleared her throat, trying not to melt under his touch, his gaze. It seemed impossible. “But... we—we,” she took a deep breath trying to get the sentence in her head to form in her mouth. “Argue so much.”

“S’maybe we could try not arguing.”

“I feel like we’re incapable—”

He interrupted and normally she would have been mad, but his words made her feel hot, burning, like she wasn’t going to get relief unless he kissed her. “Jus’ gotta find a different way t’keep our mouths entertained, kitten,” he leaned forward and stopped when their lips were all but a millimeter apart. “May I?” He asked politely.

“Uh-huh, yes,” she nodded, her brain short circuiting just a hair. Her lips brushed his as she nodded, creating a spark of electricity unlike anything she had felt before. He moaned quietly at the contact. The sound was short-lived, and he tilted her chin and slid his lips over hers.

She gripped at his shirt by his shoulders, pulling him toward her. She felt herself opening to him: her mouth, her brain, her legs. She wanted him all over her and he couldn’t get close enough. It felt insane that less than twenty-four hours ago she would have strangled him for breathing too loudly beside her in the enclosed space of his car and now she wanted him breathing too loudly because of her kisses and more.

He caressed her jaw and the back of her head, tugging her hair ever so softly so she tilted her head back further. “S’nice, baby,” he sighed softly and trailed a path of kisses down her throat. “Knew we could not argue.”

She laughed and nodded. “Guess that’s what’s been missing.”

He chuckled. “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement. “Worth it,” he shrugged one shoulder and dove back in for another heated kiss, making her moan quietly into his mouth. His lips were warm, soft, firm, and perfect. It was a quick path to addiction, and she was happy to have him as her drug.

“Y’said y’loved me when y’came out of anesthesia,” he practically giggled as he pulled away.

She gasped. “I did not.”

“You did.”

“NO.” She slapped a hand over her warm, embarrassed face. “No I didn’t. You're lying.”

“You did, kitten. So sweet of you,” he winked.

She groaned and turned away from him. “I should have just gone into a coma.”

He laughed stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “It was cute. You were all loopy.”

“I am not cute. I’m an adult woman and I’m not cute.”

“You’re adorable, actually. S’probably why m’obsessed with you.”

“You only knew you were obsessed with me twenty-four hours ago.”

He shrugged. “And I can’t get enough,” he assured her with a wink. “Now, m’thinking I’ll kiss you for another long while and then I’ll make you dinner?”

Her heart fluttered. “I like you a lot better when we don’t argue," she agreed.

He chuckled. “Me too, kitten. Me too,” he mumbled but followed through on his promise to kiss her again and not argue.

--

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If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[bonus-links]

IMMA BE THE FIRST TO ASK (I HOPE) CUZ IM LITERALLY CHOMPING AT THE BIT DIRECTORS COMMENTARY PLEASE

GANON??? THE EYES???? BANGER UPDATE 👹

the people have spoken and they want director's commentary (this isn't even all of them lol) OKAY HERE WE GO

the original draft of this scene was much shorter, and Loft actually didn't say anything at all in it. As I kept making the chapter it started to feel weird that he would just. Let Ganondorf say his piece without contributing anything. i like this version of the scene much better

listen. I love WW Ganondorf. He's my favorite Ganondorf. I was going to find a way to fit him into this chapter no matter what

in particular, I love that you get a sense from WW Ganondorf that he is, on some level, sympathetic to Link. Or if not sympathetic, understanding of his place in all this. He tells Link that his gods have abandoned him, that he has not particular quarrel with him, etc. But ultimately it doesn't matter. If this is who the gods have sent to stand in his way, so be it. Essentially, it's not my fault the gods are so callous as to send a child after me.

we're going w the canon that WW Ganondorf is the same as OOT, or at least remembers being him. Don't ask me how. Nintendo doesn't know either

big ol eyeball. which could mean nothing

How does Ganondorf recognize Loft? by that stupid hat. jokes aside he doesn't know Which Link Specifically Loft is, but he's smart enough to figure out that he's a hero of some sort.

Likewise, Loft is smart enough to figure it out as well. He's spent a lot of his chapter thinking about Ganondorf, and if you'll recall from Ch1, he knows from Zelda that Ganon once had a mortal form. I think, from Loft's perspective, he has a hunch that this Ganon figure is the mortal reincarnation of Demise, the way Zelda is the mortal reincarnation of Hylia. I wanna emphasize that's what HE thinks might be going on based on his experiences. He's not the knower of all things. He has a conspiracy board in his mind

the face of a guy who's like. I am not going to be lectured to about morality from the King of Evil. I was very excited to let Loft be snarky at long last. But he also, notably, doesn't push back against what Ganondorf is saying that hard. He doesn't even say that he's wrong, just implies that he's probably a hypocrite. In fact, a lot of this update is about what Loft DOESN'T say or acknowledge

Ganondorf's opening line is about how much he hates that statue of the hero of time, because it's "such grandeur for a mere child". I think he means that at face value, but he's also making another point— the hero of time was a child, but they're not going to depict him that way in his monument. It's honestly sort of ambiguous with the actual model because of ww's style, but it looks like adult proportions to me. The story Wake grew up with calls him a child, but his monument in the castle is of an adult. That was the idea behind this set of panels, the parts of the Hero of Time's story that aren't going to be put on the pedestal

speaking of that I realized making this update that I literally. forgot the pedestal. I just didn't draw it all this time. in my defense the castle in no clip looks like this. no statue or pedestal

except I recently found out by accident that he's literally. under the floor. what the fuck

ANYWAY. I really liked the symmetry of Ganondorf turing to stone at the end of the dream. He won't get any perfect monuments made to him. Also, looks like there's a suspicious lack of water in the underwater castle. which could mean nothing

I'm not gonna comment too much on other details, because i've got to keep some of my secrets. I do think that this update gives a lot away HAHA though that was kind of on purpose. We're entering year 3 of this comic and we're finally starting to get places lolol

WAIT I ALMOST FORGOT loft looks the same way he did when he last touched the triforce

and we've seen a border similar to this before haven't we

that's all i got for now, thanks everybody! im having a blast reading ur comments <3

[zaczenemiji]

absolutely no rush if you're occupied with other asks :D!! I love your writing so so much your descriptions and dialogue are so good 😭💓 could I possibly request a scenario where the reader (working alongside kenji as ultraman/on the sidelines as a civilian, whatever you desire!!) unexpectedly throws herself in front of kenji and takes a hit for him (bonus points of they had unresolved tension before [argument, interrupted confession, one character was sick and rejecting help etc etc; no pressure at all and pls write whatever you'd like i'm just throwing out random suggestions!!]) + the hurt/comfort to follow after? thank you so much! ☺️ i wish you the best!

In the Heart of Danger

Kenji Sato x Reader

Synopsis: As tensions between Kenji and the KDF rise, you become entangled in the conflict, leading to a dangerous confrontation that puts your life at risk.

Word Count: 2,710

Genre/Warning: Action, Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Sacrifice, Violence

Author’s Note: Slight mention of themes from Too Good, Too True

MASTERLIST

For many years, Ultraman and the Kaiju Defense Force worked in harmony. But as KDF evolved under different leadership, so did its philosophy. Their arsenal grew more lethal, their strategies more aggressive. Dr. Onda's vision was clear: the complete eradication of all kaiju was the only path to true safety.

Ultraman held a different perspective. Those magnificent creatures had their own place in the natural order. He believed in protecting life; only fending them off to prevent destruction, not to annihilate them.

KDF’s methods became increasingly ruthless. Where Ultraman sought balance, KDF saw only the necessity of total elimination. The final straw came when KDF started viewing Ultraman's reluctance to kill as a liability, a hindrance to their ultimate goal of eradication.

Thus, the Kaiju Defense Force turned their attention to identifying Ultraman's human form, intent on neutralizing this perceived threat.

"Kenji, you can't keep dismissing this," you said, frustration lacing your voice. "The KDF is closing in on you. They know something's up, and they're not going to stop until they confirm you're Ultraman."

The evening air was thick with tension as you and Kenji sat across from each other in his house. It started with a simple disagreement but it had escalated so quickly.

Kenji ran a hand through his hair, his expression one of exasperation. "I know the risks, (y/n),” he replied. “But I can handle it. I've been doing this for a while now."

"Handling it?" you echoed, incredulous. "You've barely been able to stay one step ahead of them. They've got advanced technology, Kenji. They're not just going to give up."

You remember the incidents with Gigantron, how KDF was willing to get rid of Ultraman, so as to obtain Emi. And for what reasons? To use a frikking baby to lead them to Kaiju Island—to massacre, for the mass murder of those misunderstood creatures.

Kenji sighed heavily, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of determination and fatigue. "I can't stop,” he said. “If I don't transform, people will die."

"I'm not asking you to stop," you said, your voice softening. "I'm asking you to be more careful—to consider the danger you're putting yourself in."

Kenji's jaw tightened and he looked away, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders, “I know you're worried about me. But I can't just sit back and do nothing."

"Then let me help," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm. "We're a team, remember? You don't have to do this alone."

"I can't put you in danger, too,” he pulled away slightly, his expression hardening. “It's bad enough that I have to deal with this. I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

"Kenji," you said, your voice firm. "I'm already involved. Whether you like it or not, I'm in this with you. And I'm not just going to stand by and watch you risk your life without doing anything."

He shook his head, his frustration evident. "You don't understand,” he said. “If something happened to you... I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"And what about me?" You shot back, your eyes filling with tears. "Do you think I could live with myself if something happened to you, and I did nothing to stop it?"

There came a long silence.

He never asked for any of this—you know that firsthand. You didn’t want this either. Only a fool would want to throw away the peaceful life they had in LA, away from the chaos, the danger, and the constant fear of losing their beloved.

But when Emi came and when Kenji reconnected with his dad, you both understood. Ultraman is a vital element, the pinnacle of balance, the one that would keep the world in its equilibrium.

He who holds the scale holds the lives of many. He who carries the burden also carries fear. And with it, the sacrifices to ensure the collective safety of humanity.

Your tears spilled over, and you wiped them away angrily. "You're an idiot, Kenji,” you said. “A noble, self-sacrificing idiot. But I'm not going to let you do this alone. Whether you like it or not, I'm going to help you. And you're just going to have to deal with that."

"No. You don't get it,” Kenji's expression hardened again. “This isn't about what you want. It's about keeping you safe."

"And what if I don't want to be safe?” You demanded, your voice breaking. “What if I want to be there for you?"

"That's not your choice to make!" Kenji shouted, his frustration boiling over. "I can't lose you, (y/n)!”

"And I can't lose you either!" you screamed back. "Why can't you see that?"

Kenji's eyes flashed with anger. "You should have just stayed in LA!" he snapped, his voice cutting through the night. "You're becoming too nosy, and it's dangerous. I can't have you getting involved in this.”

You stared at him, stunned. Kenji never hurt you in any way, especially not physically. But the weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut.

Without another word, you turned and stormed off, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn't look back, even as the tears blurred your vision.

Kenji stood to follow. But with the way you ran away, he knew you didn’t need him at the moment. Still, he worried for your safety. Quickly, he rode his motorcycle and followed you quietly from a distance to ensure you reached home safely.

Everything that unfolded hurt Kenji as much as it did you, if not more. This was the time he finally truly understood his father—why he let them move to LA, why he had to endure the pain of being separated—all because he wanted them safe.

Kenji loves you more than anything, more than you ever knew. He loved you enough to have the resolve to let you go if you finally wanted to be out of all this. You deserved the best, better than a complicated life with him.

When he had seen to it that you’re home safely, he stayed in front of your house a little longer, wanting to be there in case you needed him.

You knew what he was doing. You knew that he was following you. And you were grateful, truly grateful, that he didn’t let you be out here alone. He understood the space you needed and he respected it. This was just one of the infinite reasons you love him so much.

When you arrived home, you sat by the door, leaning on it as you let your tears flow freely down your cheeks. Kenji is a hero, and heroes need saving, too. You wanted to be the one to do that.

Little did you know, you were already doing so. You didn’t know how much you were saving him by being there for him. You have been doing so since day one—since meeting you in LA, losing his mom, coming back to Japan, raising Emi, and fully accepting his role as Ultraman.

Your eyelids became so heavy from all the tears that you didn’t notice that you’d drifted off to a nap. You were awakened by the sound of Kenji’s motorcycle engine as he started it.

You stood to take a peek through your window, careful not to let him see you. He looked your way one last time before driving off into the night.

When he was out of sight, you decided to head on over to your bed but before you could do so, you heard the mechanical sounds of drones.

Your eyes widened as you quickly looked back to see KDF’s drones heading in the direction Kenji went to. With a gasp, you hurriedly slammed the door open and ran out, forgetting about the identical watch you had with Kenji that was repeatedly beeping with an alert of a kaiju attack.

You ran as fast as you could, following the drones as you were sure that they were after Kenji. Suddenly, you heard familiar screams in the distance as the neighborhood awoke to a mundane scene of a kaiju attack.

You looked to your hand only to see an empty wrist. You groaned to yourself, of all the times you could forget it, why now?

Despite being unaware of what was happening or which kaiju was it this time, still you followed the drones. Upon turning the corner, you saw Kenji parking his motorcycle aside so he could transform.

However, this time, KDF came prepared. A squadron of heavily armed soldiers arrived, their weapons calibrated to disrupt his transformation sequence.

As the soldiers closed in on Kenji, one of them set up a cannon, aiming it directly at him. Realizing the gravity of the situation, you sprinted toward the scene, your heart pounding in your chest.

The targeting system locked onto Kenji's energy signature, and the barrel began to glow with a blue hue, signaling the impending shot. Just as the operator pulled the trigger, you threw yourself in front of Kenji.

The concentrated beam of energy hit you with full force, sending a searing pain through your body. You screamed as it disrupted your bio-energy field, causing immediate paralysis and intense agony. You collapsed to the ground, feeling your strength drain away.

The soldiers, momentarily stunned by your intervention, hesitated as Kenji caught you in his arms. "No, (y/n)!" Kenji's voice was filled with anguish as he held you close.

The effects of the cannon had taken their toll on you, but your selfless act had given Kenji the precious seconds he needed. He transformed into Ultraman with a flash of light, creating a barrier to protect you from further harm.

With the kaiju approaching the city, Ultraman's form loomed large, and the soldiers were forced to retreat, their weapons ineffective against his fully transformed state.

Although hesitant he had to make a heart-wrenching decision to choose between being your lover and being Ultraman.

He carried you as gently as he could. In the palm of his hand, your fragile body lay unconscious. He quickly ran back home where Mina awaited him.

Upon arriving, he carefully placed you in the bed Mina took out of the house. “Mina! Emergency analysis, please!” He begged. “Call my dad, do everything to save her! I’ll be back as soon as I can!”

With that, he dashed off to the scene of the kaiju attack. His mind was a mess as he fended it off as quickly as he could, even if it meant hurting it unintentionally, and even if it caused more infrastructural damage.

Ultraman’s heart pounded as he rushed home, the streets blurring past him in a haze of worry and exhaustion. As he reached the familiar door, he transformed back to his human form.

Kenji burst into the house. The scene before him made his heart ache even more. You lay unconscious on the couch, pale and still, with Mina and his father sitting beside you, their faces etched with concern.

Hayao looked up as his son entered. "Kenji," he said, his voice a mix of relief and sorrow. "You're back."

Kenji dropped to his knees beside you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "What happened? How is she?" he asked, his voice breaking.

Mina spoke up. “KDF used a new weapon, something we haven't seen before,” she started. “It emits a high-frequency pulse that disrupts the transformation process. When (y/n) threw herself in front of you, she took the full brunt of the attack."

Hayao nodded solemnly. "It's designed to incapacitate Ultraman before he can fully transform,” he said. “But on a human... it's much more dangerous. It's a miracle she's still alive."

Kenji's hands trembled as he held yours, his eyes never leaving your face. "Is there anything we can do?” He asked, tears racing their way out of his eyes. “Anything at all?"

"We've done what we can for now," Mina said softly. "She needs rest and time to recover. We'll monitor her closely. But Kenji... it's serious. The weapon has caused significant internal damage."

Hayao placed a reassuring hand on Kenji’s shoulder. "You did what you had to do, son. You saved countless lives tonight,” he said. “But we need to be prepared for what comes next. The KDF won't stop now that they know you're Ultraman."

Kenji nodded, his resolve hardening. "I'll protect her. I'll protect all of us,” he said through small sobs. “But right now... I need her to wake up. I need to know she's okay.”

As the night wore on, Kenji stayed by your side, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement. He thought about all the times you had supported him, how you had insisted on helping despite the danger. The argument from earlier seemed trivial now, overshadowed by the reality of your sacrifice.

"Please wake up," Kenji murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I should've listened to you. I should've protected you better."

The room was filled with the soft hum of medical equipment and Kenji’s quiet sobs that refused to give up on the person he cared about the most.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Kenji felt a slight movement in your hand. His heart leaped, and he leaned closer, his eyes searching your face for any sign of awakening.

"(Y/n)?" he whispered, his voice trembling with hope. "Can you hear me?"

Your eyelids fluttered, and a faint groan escaped your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking against the light. When you saw Kenji's worried face, a weak smile crossed your lips.

"Kenji..." you murmured, your voice barely audible. "You're okay..."

Kenji's eyes once again filled with tears as he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening, "Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks to you. You saved me, (y/n)."

You tried to sit up, but pain shot through your body, and you winced. “What... what happened?” You asked.

Mina quickly intervened, gently pushing you back down with mechanical hands that protruded out of her spherical body. "Don't try to move too much,” she said. “You were hit by a weapon KDF used. It was meant for Ultraman, but you took the hit instead."

Hayao added, "You were incredibly brave, (y/n). You saved Kenji's life."

You looked at Kenji, your eyes filled with concern. "I couldn't let them hurt you,” you said softly. “I had to do something."

Kenji leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I promise, I'll never let anything happen to you again,” he said, his tears falling down on your face.

The days that followed were a blur of pain, recovery, and quiet moments shared between you and Kenji. True to his word, he never left your side, his worry and guilt evident in every action he took to ensure your comfort and healing.

Each morning, you woke to the smell of freshly brewed tea and the sight of Kenji bustling around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Despite his own exhaustion, he insisted on doing everything himself.

"Good morning," he greeted softly one morning, bringing a tray of food to your bedside. "How are you feeling today?"

You offered a weak smile, propping yourself up on the pillows. "A little better, I think,” you answered. “Thanks, Kenji."

He set the tray down carefully. "You need to eat,” he said. “You've got to get your strength back."

In the afternoons, when you felt strong enough, Kenji would help you sit up and move around. He'd guide you outside to the lawn, where the sun's warmth and the gentle breeze seemed to hasten your healing. He'd support you with a gentle but firm grip.

"I don't want you to overdo it," he'd say, worry etched on his brow. "Just take it slow."

As the days turned into weeks, your strength gradually returned. The pain lessened, and the color began to return to your cheeks.

The days of your recovery were not just about healing physically but also about rebuilding and strengthening the trust and love between you and Kenji.

You had faced danger and come out stronger, more united. With each passing day, you became more sure than ever that together, your love could overcome anything.

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[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Eleven

I may have taken my sweet time writing this, but in my defense, the Felix smut was what my brain wanted to write first, and then life got to me and made me really busy. And here I am, finishing this fic at 3am in the morning lol. But have fun with the chaos of this fic hehe.

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: We see the aftermath and chaos of the company's decision, plus y/n gets some much needed comfort. Oh, and a reveal! wc: 1.8k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  warnings: fighting and slapping, threats, angst, slut-shaming and derogatory talk towards y/n, use of the words slut,pussy, whore, etc., lots of misogyny in this chapter folks, and a bunch of like derogatory talk about omegas that is absolutely misogynistic and sexist, lots of cursing, implications that people would take advantage of others, disassociating kinda, shitty people being called the names they deserve, this should be everything masterlist

The fighting went on, it seemingly would never end as insults and angry words kept being thrown back and forth. Ateez and their management yelled back and forth over who had the decision making power over the new member, and for the most part, the auditionees just watched it all happen. What could they do? Nothing. They were just the pawns in the game, really, if one thought about it.

“You said we could have the ability to pick the final member out of that group! We don’t want anyone but y/n!” Wooyoung yelled, getting in the face of one of the staff members, having to be pulled away by Mingi and Yunho.

“I will take all of my members, and we’ll leave KQ, if you continue to insist on your pick for the ninth member. I am not above leaving. We,” Hongjoong said as he gestured to the rest of Ateez, “are not above leaving. I don’t think you want to test how far you can push us before we push back.” He said, his words a thinly veiled threat.

“Who would take you? They don’t want an established group.” The staff member who started all of this stated.

“I can think of a few companies who would gladly take us. You forget we’re a group that has a very large international audience, which is what companies want nowadays.” Hongjoong said, almost too calmly.

“We’ll leave, take everything we can with us, and we’ll go start somewhere else. Atiny will follow us, they like us, not you.” Hongjoong spelled it out for the staff members, who quickly realized that they might want to back down on this.

“God, is your pussy really that great that they’ll go to bat for you like this? Well, I guess a slut like you knows how to please, honestly that’s all omega’s are good for, anyways. Just a quick fuck, nothing more.” She heard the voice speak again, and this time it was louder, since she saw some of the other auditionees’ heads turn. She would have turned to look at who it was, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the idols across the table.

It was apparent to the others, though not to the y/n nor the person behind her, that not only had the other auditionees’ heard those words, but so had a member of the group. Before anyone could process the idol’s actions, Jongho had launched himself across the room and tackled whoever had been sitting behind her, the two landing on the floor with a thump. This stopped any fighting in its tracks.

“You want to say that again?” Jongho growled as he pinned the other person to the floor, teeth bared.

“Y-You heard me.” They said, a stutter appearing as they tried to mask any fear of the beta on top of them.

“I would bet that you’re also the person who leaked those pictures to Dispatch. Since you’re so intent on being jealous that you weren’t picked.” The maknae idol deduced.

“And if I did? What are you going to do about it?” They taunted him, somehow overcoming their fear.

“Jongho, get off of him. Now.” Hongjoong ordered, moving over to where the maknae was.

“No.”

“Jongho, now.”

“He was telling lies to y/n. Telling her that she and omegas were only good for a quick fuck, and that we were only fighting for her because she was good in bed. His words were more vulgar, and I won’t repeat them.” Jongho said, never looking away from the target of his rage.

“It’s not a lie. Omegas are only good for fucking, that’s it. That’s their purpose in life, is to be good little broodmares for betas and alphas. Besides, what talent does she have, she’s barely done anything while we’ve been here, and has only monopolized the attention of all of you.” They spat out, glaring over at y/n before their view of her was replaced with Mingi.

Hongjoong turned to look at the staff and managers with a murderous look on his face. They really wanted someone like this, to become part of Ateez? “You wanted a disgusting piece of shit like this, to become a member of Ateez? Someone who will look down on his fellow members because of their subgender? You were going to let someone like this interact with Atiny, and based on his words, probably abuse power as an idol to take advantage of them?” He raged, his voice becoming increasingly louder until he was shouting at them.

The staff tried to stammer out excuses, claiming they knew nothing of the beta’s opinions. It was clear to everyone that none of the idols believed the words coming out of their managers’ mouths, though to his credit, their main manager didn’t say anything, just sat down and stayed quiet while the others talked out of their asses. In return for his silence, he received disappointed looks from the eight idols, half of whom were still filled with rage against the beta and the others.

Wooyoung rushed over to y/n’s side once the shock and anger of the situation was pushed aside in favor of concern for his omega baby. Placing his hands on her shoulders to turn her to face him, as she still spaced out.

“Baby omega, c’mon come look at me,” he pleaded. “It’s okay, so come back to me, to us.”

His words, plus his scent of flowers and cinnamon turning slightly burnt as he worried, brought y/n back to the present. She looked over at the other omega, whose face was filled with worry.

“Wooyoung-ssi?” She asked, still a bit dazed from her intense focus on what was now just an empty spot in the room.

“Hi baby omega, how are you feeling?” He asked her, as the others looked over at the two of them.

“God, I knew it from the moment that the hag of an omega dragged you away, that you were an attention whore.” The beta cut in, making everyone’s heads’ snap to him.

Y/n’s face dropped as she realized who exactly said that, but she couldn’t get a word in before the sound of a slap rang out. Mingi had stepped forward, kneeling down and slapping the beta’s cheek so hard that a bruise had already started to form.

“Aaron, why are you like this? You were so nice to me.” Y/n asked, confused.

“Because you’ve done nothing to deserve anything you’ve gotten here. I’ve worked my ass off for years, and I’ve been passed over in favor of omegas. Because of your kind, I can’t get anything, omegas are always the ones chosen for things, never betas. I deserve this. I’m way more talented than you are, and I’m not a fucking whore who sleeps her way into the team. I don’t monopolize Ateez’s attention, not like you have. You got private sessions with San and Yunho, I saw it. And fuck it was amazing to see how much hate you’re still getting for it. You should just go back home, y’know, and be the little omega housewife, because that’s all you’re good for.” Aaron goes off on a rant, inadvertently revealing that he was the one that leaked the photos to Dispatch.

The anger in the room was palpable, and y/n wasn’t the only one to shrink in on herself because of it. Wooyoung held her tighter, his arms snaking around her to pull her closer, as the two of them watched the others crowd around the three on the floor, as they noticed that the staff ushered the other auditionees out of the conference room.

“So, you’re the one who put my members’ careers at risk, and put them in the middle of a scandal? You’re the one who made my members worried and stressed because you’re jealous that another person, that wasn’t you, caught our eye? Y’know, it's fitting that it’s you. You look as pathetic as you actually are. Only someone who knows they’re inadequate stoops so low as to bring others down to their level. You’re passed over in favor of omegas, because they’re obviously better than you. And y/n is one of those omegas.” Hongjoong said, his words filled with condescension towards Aaron. “Say goodbye to any chance of making it in the industry, here or back home. Word gets around about bad people.” The captain finished.

Seonghwa turned to the staff that remained in the room. “If you don’t get security here within the next few minutes, and make sure he’s escorted back to his room so he can pack up and then driven to the airport to fly back to whatever dump he’s from, we will take it into our hands. I don’t think you want the media, or Atiny, knowing that you were going to let someone who tried to ruin two members of Ateez, into the group. Nor will the police be happy if they find out that they were deceived, if any of you knew about what he had done, to not only San and Yunho, but to an innocent person in all of this.”

Yeosang, normally not one to be overly touchy feely when things are stressful, moved over to Wooyoung and y/n, in need of comfort from his omega friend. Wooyoung immediately noticed and pulled the alpha close, the now trio taking comfort in one another. The two men silently communicated, both hoping that management would fail in the task given to them, so that the stain on the floor would be dragged out by police instead. They were disappointed when security rushed into the room, and once Jongho had pulled away from the beta, the team of security guards led the disgraced auditionee out of the conference room, and away from the lives of the now nine members of Ateez.

Hongjoong was quick to collect the rest of the group, including y/n, and bid goodbye to the staff members, not sparing them another glace as he led his group out into the hallway. Y/n was pushed into the middle of their protective circle, with Seonghwa and Wooyoung on either side, and Mingi behind the trio to bring up the rear as the others surrounded the trio of omegas. The group of nine were led to the practice room, as it was the easiest and quickest place to regroup.

Once everyone was settled in the room, most sprawled out on the floor, including y/n whose head was laid in Yeosang’s lap as the man ran his hands through her hair, silence settled over the group as everyone processed what had just occurred. That silence lasted until the youngest omega shot up, almost hitting Yeosang’s chin, as she realized exactly what the group had been fighting for in the first place.

“Wait. You want me to be the ninth member of Ateez?!” She shouted out, in complete shock.

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[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

How about writing something along the lines of Sebastian and reader are rookie Aurora’s on their first day but there is just some difference in how they’re treated. Sebastian is treated like how’d you expect, barely achnowleged until he screws up and is paying a price for it. but somehow after all these years readers is still getting the ‘hero of hogwarts treatment’ it’s just little things like extra praise and telling them it’s okay they messed up with only minor consequences, as well as people offering to do their paperwork, etc. However it adds up after a week and Sebastian’s jealousy comes out as he confronts the reader about the special treatment they receive at work when they got home that night. (I like to think they got engaged quickly after hogwarts and either bought a place or kept the cottage in Feldcroft)

this may have taken a life of its own while pitching this.

Resentment | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

This was such a unique idea and I've never written something quite like this, thank you for the prompt anon! Honestly this took on a life of its own while I was writing it! I originally planned for a happy ending but...

Words: ~3,600

Tags: Post Hogwarts, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Established Relationship, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort

Sebastian had expected their first week as Aurors to be rough. Everyone had warned them that rookies were at the bottom of the food chain. No special treatment, no shortcuts. The senior Aurors wouldn’t be impressed by their Hogwarts accolades or their N.E.W.T. scores. If they wanted to prove themselves, they had to do it through sweat, blood, and resilience.

Sebastian was ready for that. He didn’t expect to be taken seriously right away.

But he hadn’t expected to be invisible.

He’d been shoved aside in field drills, barely acknowledged beyond curt instructions. The first time he made a mistake—misjudging a defensive maneuver and knocking over an entire stack of case files—he’d been chewed out in front of the entire team. "Sallow, if you can’t keep your footing, you can sit at a desk instead." The laughter that followed had burned like acid.

Fine. That was the treatment he’d expected. But you? You might as well have been walking on air.

It started small, little pats on the back after training, murmured praise when you completed routine spells, encouragement when you messed up, instead of the sharp reprimands Sebastian and the other rookies got. He saw senior Aurors smile at you, nod in approval, even laugh at your mistakes like they were endearing.

The first time you misfired a spell and nearly singed a superior’s robe, Sebastian had braced himself for the verbal lashing to come. Instead, the man just chuckled and waved it off. "Don’t worry about it, first week’s tough for everyone."

Sebastian had nearly snapped his wand in half right then and there.

It only got worse.

You had entire conversations with higher-ups that Sebastian could barely get two words out of. If you struggled in a training exercise, someone stepped in to help. When you had too much paperwork, someone offered to do it for you because you “had a long day”.

Sebastian had also had a long day.

He had been thrown to the ground three times in sparring practice, made to redo his reports twice, and had to stay late because no one cared that he had been exhausted.

And somehow, you didn’t even bat an eye at your special treatment.

By Friday, it was eating him alive.

The two of you apparated home after work and the golden light of sunset filtered through the windows of the cottage, casting warm hues over the stone walls.

It did nothing to soften Sebastian’s mood.

You sighed, rolling your shoulders. “That was exhausting. At least it’s the weekend.”

Sebastian didn’t move from the entryway. His fingers curled into his palms, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

You turned toward him, brows knitting together at his silence. "Seb?"

"...You're tired?"

You blinked at him, confused. “Yeah?”

He laughed. "From what?"

Your brow furrowed. “...From working all day? From training?”

Sebastian shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Right. Because that was so difficult for you, wasn’t it? Another long, exhausting day of getting praised for breathing, of having your arse wiped for you while the rest of us have to fend for ourselves?”

Your expression twisted in confusion, but it was starting to turn wary. “What are you talking about?”

He let out another short laugh, pacing across the room. His feet thudded against the wooden floor with each step, his frustration a storm building inside him.

"Oh, I don’t know," he snapped. "Maybe how every bloody Auror in that office treats you like royalty? How they praise you for the same things I get torn apart for? How you can make mistakes, and they just fix them for you?"

Your frown deepened. "Sebastian, it’s not like that."

"Isn’t it?" He turned to face you fully, crossing his arms over his chest, shoulders taut with frustration. "Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to watch you get handed everything on a silver platter while I have to fight for every scrap of recognition?"

Your confusion tranformed into defensiveness. “I don’t get things handed to me, I work just as hard as you do.”

"Do you?" Sebastian took a step closer, staring you down. "Because it seems to me like every time you screw up, someone’s right there to clean up after you. You didn’t even have to do your own bloody paperwork today!"

"I didn’t ask for that," you replied, fighinting to keep your voice from wavering. "They just—"

"Exactly!" He cut you off, gesturing wildly. “People just do things for you! Do you even hear yourself?"

"Sebastian, please—"

But he wasn’t done. He was too angry to be done.

"You’ve had people worshipping you since we were fifteen," he went on, voice rising with every word. "And I get it, alright? I do! You saved Hogwarts, you saved the wizarding world, you’re the bloody Chosen One or whatever. But we left school, and this—this was supposed to be different!" His hand clenched into a fist at his side. "We both trained for this. We both earned our spots. But somehow, you’re still treated like the prodigy, and I’m still just another nobody!"

“That’s not fair,” you argued, "You’re not a nobody and you know that! And don’t act like I’ve had everything easy—I worked my arse off to be here just as much as you!"

Sebastian scoffed. “Oh, really? And what, exactly, have you had to prove? Because from what I can tell, you don’t have to prove a damn thing.”

Your patience snapped like a stretched wire. “Oh, I don’t know, Sebastian,” you shot back. “I think maybe the part where I fought a whole goddamn rebellion at fifteen is where I proved myself!”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed, his frustration only igniting further. “Yeah?” he snarled. “And what, does that give you a lifetime pass to never have to prove anything ever again?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it!"

"Bullshit," His tone was sharp, biting. "You waltz into the Ministry and everyone just assumes you’re brilliant, assumes you’re untouchable, assumes you’re better than the rest of us! Meanwhile, I have to claw my way up from the bottom and you just fucking watch!”

You gaped at him. “Assumes I'm brilliant? So what, you don't think I am?"

Sebastian barely felt the jab of your finger against his chest—his anger was a fire burning too hot to notice.

“Don’t twist my words,” he snapped, eyes flashing. “I know you’re brilliant. I’ve always known. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair. That doesn’t mean I should have to stand here and watch you get treated like the Ministry’s golden child while I get torn apart for breathing wrong!"

Your jaw clenched. “So what, you’re angry because you're... you're jealous? Because I get some slack?

Sebastian let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Some slack? Do you even hear yourself? They worship the ground you walk on! If you screw up, it’s, ‘Oh, no worries, you’ve had a long day.��� If I screw up? ‘Sallow, get your shit together or go push paperwork.’” His voice lowered into something cutting, something scathing. “Tell me, when’s the last time anyone told you to ‘get your shit together?’”

Your expression wavered, just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

Sebastian huffed. “Exactly.”

Your nostrils flared, and suddenly you were stepping forward, frustration rolling off you in waves. “You think I’ve had it easy? You think I haven’t fought for everything I have?”

Sebastian scoffed. “I think you fought when you were fifteen, and now you don’t have to anymore.”

Your breath left you in a sharp exhale, like he had struck you, but you weren’t backing down.

“Do you really think it was a privilege to be that person, Sebastian? Do you think I want to be the Ministry’s favorite war story? You think I should apologize for the fact that they won’t let me be anything else?”

Sebastian’s fingers twitched at his sides, but he had no words, only deep-seated resentment simmering beneath his ribs.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You have no idea what it’s like, do you?”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “Oh, here we go.”

You ignored him.

“You have no idea what it’s like to have people watch you all the time, waiting for you to be exactly who they expect you to be, who they want you to be. No idea what it’s like to walk into a room and have everyone already decided who you are.”

Sebastian’s temper flared. “I don’t know what it’s like?” he spat. “All anyone is waiting for me to do at work is fail. To be just like my uncle. To be some dangerous, reckless fuck-up who’d never amount to anything—”

“And yet,” you cut in, voice steel, “you still got to decide who you are, didn’t you? You still got to fight for yourself!”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak.

“I didn’t get that choice, Sebastian. My life was decided for me the moment I survived the rebellion. I could either be their war hero, or I could be a goddamn disappointment for not joining the Ministry."

The silence between you was suffocating. Sebastian’s breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling too fast. His pulse pounded in his ears.

You shook your head. “You think I enjoy this? That I wouldn’t trade all of it—every bit of the admiration, the praise, the ‘special treatment’—to just be normal?”

“Then why don’t you stop it?” Sebastian spat.

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Sebastian laughed. “That’s what I thought. Because you love it." The words came out low, scathing. "Don’t fucking lie to me. You love the attention, the admiration, the way people hang on your every word."

Sebastian should have stopped. Should have seen the way your hands clenched, how you sucked in a sharp breath like he had physically struck you, but he was too caught up in his own fury, too tangled in his own resentment, and he just kept going.

He was hurt, he was raw, and if he was bleeding, then so were you.

"So don’t stand there and act like you hate it, like you wouldn’t kill to keep it," he spat. "Because you’ve had years to change things, and yet, here you are—still letting everyone kiss the fucking ground you walk on. You love walking into a room and knowing everyone already adores you, already thinks you’re something larger than life. You love that when you fuck up, people look the other way. You love that no one ever questions you. That no one ever expects you to fail. That no one ever assumes the worst of you."

He let out a breathless, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Must be fucking nice."

You just stared at him, silent, unmoving. Sebastian wanted you to yell back, wanted you to scream at him, to tell him he was wrong, to argue, to fight. But you didn’t.

You just looked at him with something unreadable—something wounded, yes, but deeper than that. Something he couldn't name.

Sebastian’s stomach turned violently, the weight of what he had just said slamming into him all at once. His anger drained, leaving something hollow and sickening in its wake.

"Wait, I—"

But you had already taken a step back.

"You actually believe that, dont you?" You shook your head, exhaling slowly, as if something had finally, finally clicked into place. “You really, truly believe that.”

“No, that’s not true, I—”

“Spare me your goddamn excuses,” you cut him off, your eyes blazing now. “Don’t act like you haven’t spent the last ten minutes trying to tear me down just so you don’t have to sit with your own fucking feelings.”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I love you, Sebastian,” you cried. “But I won’t let you do this to me. Not now. Not ever. I will not stand here and be your fucking punching bag.”

“I—”

“You’re angry, I get that,” you cut him off, relentless now. “And you have every right to be! I get that this isn’t fair. It’s not fair that I get special treatment. It’s not fair that people are willing to overlook things for me that they’d never overlook for you. And it’s not fair that you’ve had to work twice as hard just to prove that you’re not your uncle.” You exhaled sharply, like saying it out loud was exhausting. “You’re right, Sebastian. And I’ll fix it. I’ll go in early on Monday, I’ll talk to them, I’ll address it. I’ll do whatever I can to make it right.”

You scrubbed a hand down your face, flicking unshed tears from your lashes, inhaling sharply as if forcing yourself to stay upright, to stay steady, to keep from breaking right here in front of him.

"But how fucking dare you stand there and tell me I wouldn’t fight for you the second I knew something was wrong? I have fought for you from the second I met you, and you know it. I have fought for you when no one else did, when no one else would. And this is what I get?!"

Sebastian felt the room tilt. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

He had been so sure—so damn sure—that if he just let everything out, if he got it all off his chest, if he made you see how fucking unfair it all was, then he’d feel better. But instead, he felt like he had just ripped open something vital. Like he had swung too hard, missed his mark, and severed something he hadn’t meant to touch.

"You—" He swallowed thickly, reaching for words that wouldn't come. "That's not what I—"

"Yes. It is," you cut in, voice quieter now. Flatter. "You said exactly what you meant."

Sebastian felt his stomach turn violently, bile burning at the back of his throat.

“No,” he rasped. “No, I—fuck, that’s not—please, just—”

"You think I want this?" Your voice cracked, the first fracture in the mask you had thrown up, but you didn’t let it break. "You think I want to be some fucking symbol, to have my entire life boiled down to a title I never even asked for?"

Sebastian's pulse thundered in his ears, his own voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean—"

"Then what did you mean, Sebastian?" You threw your hands up, voice raw, sharp enough to cut. "Because you just stood here and told me, to my face, that I love this. That I want it. That I eat up the praise, that I enjoy being put on a pedestal I never fucking climbed onto to begin with!"

Sebastian flinched. What could he say to that? How could he take back something he had already carved into the space between you?

You let out a breath—slow, controlled, like you were steadying yourself from the inside out.

"I have never—not once—made you feel like less of a person for what you’ve been through. I have never used your past against you. And I sure as hell have never thrown your worst fears in your face just to win an argument," You let out a humorless, breathless sound. "I would never do that to you, so why the fuck do you think it’s okay to do it to me?”

Sebastian felt those words like a strike to the chest—hard, unrelenting, leaving something cracked and aching in their wake. His hands clenched at his sides, his breath coming too fast, too uneven.

"Do you really think so little of me that you’d rather punish me for something I didn’t even know I was doing instead of just talking to me?" You went on, voice quieter now. "You could have come to me, like a normal fucking person, and we could have figured this out together."

Sebastian moved before he could think, his hands reaching for you instinctively, desperately. “No—no, of course not,” he blurted frantically. “I think the world of you—”

But you stepped back. It wasn’t a dramatic movement. It wasn’t even all that far. But it was enough.

“You don’t get to break something and then panic when it starts to fall apart,” you said. “You don’t get to say things just to hurt me and then act like you didn’t mean them the second you realize you went too far.”

Sebastian’s breathing was uneven, his pulse hammering in his ears. “I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking, I was just—”

“Angry?” you finished for him, voice tired now. “Yeah, I got that.”

“I fucked up,” he admitted, the words strained, like they hurt to say. “I know I did. But I didn’t mean—”

“But you did. You meant every word when you said it. And I... I think you’ve been carrying this resentment for a long time, Sebastian."

This resentment. This awful, festering, rotting thing.

Fuck, you were right.

It had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. It had taken root the day you walked into Sebastian's life, shining too brightly, outshining everyone. Outshining him. The day you became something more, and he was left chasing your shadow.

This fight had never really been about the special treatment, had it? Not really.

Because, if he were honest—if he could admit the truth he had been running from—he knew you deserved to be treated differently. Of course, you did. You had always deserved it. You were brilliant. Blindingly so. You had power, strength, and the kind of unshakable resolve that made people believe in you. You had fought for the world, and the world had loved you for it. And Sebastian—what had he done?

While you had been defeating Ranrok, he had been falling into dark magic. While you had been saving lives, he had been destroying his own. You had been a hero. He had been a liability.

He had never deserved you. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

And yet—you had chosen him. Again and again and agin, through everything. When the world turned its back on him, you had stayed. When he had been drowning in darkness, you had dragged him, kicking and screaming, back into the light. You had believed in him when he was at his worst.

But it hadn’t convinced him.

Because deep down, some fractured part of him still believed you had made a mistake. That you had seen something in him that wasn’t really there. That one day, you would wake up and realize it. And instead of facing that fear, instead of acknowledging that his jealousy had nothing to do with you and everything to do with him, with his own insecurity, he had let it fester. Let it curdle into something sharp-edged and poisonous. He had taken that self-loathing and turned it outward, twisted it into resentment, as if you were the problem. Because it was easier to blame you than to admit the real issue was himself. Because if he couldn’t stand beside you as your equal, then at the very least, he could try to pull you down to his level.

And now, he was watching the consequences unfold before him.

You let out a slow breath, your arms still crossed over your chest, gaze flickering away from him. That was somehow worse than your anger. Because at least when you were angry, you were fighting for this—fighting for him.

Now, you just looked… done.

Sebastian took a step forward. You took a step back.

“Please,” he tried, voice raw, “don’t—don’t do that.”

You swallowed, gaze flickering somewhere past him. “Do what?”

“Don’t pull away from me,” he rasped. “Please.”

You let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “Sebastian, what the hell do you expect me to do?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. His thoughts were a mess, tangled and frantic, searching for something to make this better.

He had always been good at words. Always knew how to talk his way out of things, to charm, to persuade. But this? This was different. This wasn’t some misunderstanding. This wasn’t some careless mistake. This was something ugly and deep-rooted and poisonous, and he had let it fester too long.

You let out another breath, shaking your head, as if you were trying to gather yourself, trying to find a way forward despite the wreckage he had left between you.

“Look,” you said finally, voice weary, “I don’t... I don’t know what to do with this right now.” You swallowed, rubbing at your temple. “I need, I just need some time.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened. “Time?”

Your voice was quiet, tired. “Yeah.”

Sebastian wanted to argue. Wanted to tell you that he would do anything to fix this right now, but the truth was, he didn’t even know where to start.

He had spent so long resenting you for something that wasn’t even your fault. Had twisted his own insecurities into a weapon and used them against you, let them fester until they spilled out in a way he could never take back.

And now, he had to live with that.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, nodding stiffly. “Okay.”

You looked at him for another moment—just a moment—and then you turned.

Sebastian barely had time to register it before the crack of apparition echoed through the room, and you were gone.

And just like that, the house was silent.

Sebastian exhaled shakily, his hands trembling at his sides. The weight in his chest felt suffocating, crushing. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping it tight at the roots, eyes squeezing shut.

What the hell have I done?

[reflectionsofacreator]

[takes a long drink from my Arizona iced tea] so like one of the central themes for FFXV is like, growing up, sure. You know that, I know that, whatever. Coming of age, coming into your own, taking the mantle of king, whatever you wanna call it. Cool, awesome, we love a good coming of age story!

But I find the sub theme of that one to be probably the most fascinating? By and large, all the chocobros have to deal with the fallout of being lied to by the adult figures in their lives, and it's the most prevalent with Noctis and Gladio. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of it in Ignis and Prompto too, but the particularly insidious way that Noctis and especially Gladio were lied to sometimes gets me.

See I don't even really think it was actually all that intentional. Not really a conscious act by Regis and Clarus, or the society around them? More like... I dunno, the lies that you get told by your parents as a little kid and you grow up to realize that the world is a lot different than you thought.

That being said, Noctis was absolutely lied to by his father; both about the nature of the King of Light and the idea that he'd succeed Regis as reigning monarch. Regis did it out of love, knowing that Noctis would die young, and reasoned that Noctis should get to have a relatively normal life, but it was still a lie. Gladio, likewise, was lied to by his father and Regis, told that he would be the next monarch's Shield, that he would fulfill a role that's got a pretty set expectation in their society.

See, Gladio expects Noctis to act a certain way, to act as King, and he gets increasingly frustrated when Noctis doesn't, or can't live up to that. He's not precisely wrong to expect it either, given their roles and their statues, and knowing that they're taking the throne during a full blown war. The problem is that Noctis was never taught how to be the thing that Gladio was told Noctis was going to be? And that's what causes friction with them all the time. It's fascinating, watching it play out and realizing the underlying issues with their relationships actually have very little to do with them as people and instead because of what they were told to expect from each other.

Gladio is also his own kettle of fish that I don't think the narrative is quite self aware enough to articulate properly, or even get into. Gladio falls into the trap of toxic masculinity very often -- struggling to articulate his feelings, expressing most of his feelings as anger, picking fights rather than talking about what's going on, using his strength as both a character aspect and bonus, etc. The list goes on. There's also the fact that he's sort of portrayed as a bit of a womanizer and the masculine ideal; tall, rugged, strong, etc which plays into all of that. XV plays him very straight (and straight) with these concepts, and just sort of ... expects it to be fine? Which is at odds with how the other three bros interact and are more emotionally available towards each other, leaving Gladio as one of the weaker bros in canon.

It kind of sucks too, because like, there's so much to unpack with him? His DLC is about wanting to have the strength to protect Noctis on the surface, but really when you look at it... you could also argue that the DLC is about Gladio's fears that he'll end up as dead as his dad did (ha, try that for alliteration) and the crushing weight of failure. Gladio has every right to fear his mortality, fear the fact that he is, nominally, the first in line on the battlefield and the the last defense for Noctis. If Noctis is to die, they will go through him first, and that's! Scary! But the game doesn't really get into that, hardly at all, and it makes picking up the pieces for Gladio kind of frustrating. Out of all the bros, he's the one I have to dig the most to find any kind of depth despite being prime real estate for it.

Anyways Gladio and Noctis' dynamic is fascinating if you actually start to unpack it, especially because it's built on the lies that their fathers fed them as children (that they themselves also bought into). I'd go so far to argue that between the two pairs, Noct/Gladio is in much more of a dire need to sit down and actually hash out what they are to each other, outside of their king/shield dynamic. Noct/Iggy certainly has shades of that, but Ignis has decided that they are friends and that he will defy fate if he must, let the world burn if he must, to save Noct's life. That has some depth beyond king/retainer that they're presented as. Noct/Gladio are sort of just... falling into the king/shield dynamic because they're expected to, and it sort of hampers their relationship and their communication.

I'm gonna scramble them both like eggs, probably into an omelette. They make me Think you know

[auraworkshop]

I ENTERED THE VOID

Through a lucid dream 🎀 !!

HOLY MOLY...shit ??

Okay so, I would like to start off by saying a big THANKYOU to Aura :)

Aura? Do you have any idea how powerful your lucid dreaming sub is ?? 😭 You sub literally gave me the vividest ( idk if that's a word or not lmao ) lucid dream I ever had.

I slept with your sub playing in the background when I woke up, o relized I was in a dream, A LUCID DREAM?!? 😭 It was surreal. It was so freaking vivid like it was more real than the real world 💀 In the past I have tried countless methods like WILD, WBTB, MILD etc. and never had such vivid dream that your sub gave me.. I'm literally being honest here 😭<3

Okay so after that, Without wasting a literal second I fell down so that I would end up in the void, but unfortunately it didn't work idk why, maybe I did it wrong or something but then I asked a stranger in my dream to take me to the void. They literally pushed me so hard and I fell into a dark place, YEAHhhhHh IT WAS THE VOID.

It truly felt like heaven !

Gonna mention few things that I affirmed for :

- IMMORTALITY

- GOOD HEALTH AND PHYSICAL PRESENTATION

- GOOD IMMUNE SYSTEM AND NATURAL DEFENSES

- NO DISEASE FOR LIFETIME

- POSITIVE ATTITUDE AND MOOD DESPITE THE CHALLENGES

- ENERGY, JOY AND VIBRANCY

- FEELING OF INVINCIBILITY AND PEACE OF MIND

- DESIRED PHONE, JOB, HOME, FRIENDS, DF, DB, WARDROBE, WHOLE APPERANCE

- TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE

- RELATIONSHIP

- MONEY

- PRINCESS TREATMENT

- LIL CLUMSY

- FEW CUTE HABITS

- ALL THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD

- EVERYONE'S CRUSH

- CHANGED BIRTHDAY, NAME, AGE

A piece of motivation for y'all :

It's not over until you win and yes, you could fail but you are not giving up GOT that? You will succeed and that's it PERIOD

And lastly "BE STRONGER THAN YOUR EXCUSES"

Just gonna deactivate now, and live my life. 🎀

SUCCESS STORY ♡

I am so very happy and proud of you. And yes, I designed the sub to be as powerful as possible, although I did tone it down a little bit because I was actually afraid I may make it too powerful in a way.

Your experience sounds incredible and I'm happy to know that I was a part of your journey.

I love your list !! ENJOY YOUR LIFE with those manifestations of yours <3

And I loving the energy, motivation and positivity from this message, I believe the last part of your ask will motivate a lot of people.

I also want you all to know that just be sure to always continue and never give up. Remember that your power is far greater than any circumstance or challenge you may be facing. You are a winner, a victor, and you are living your ideal life no matter what. You are always living the life you wish for, the question you have left to answer is whether or not you are aware of that fact. You can and will do it, there is no other possibility ! 🤍

Here's the LUCID DREAMING SUB they used

[strawberrynightmere]

Drugs And Candy [Yandere Andrew Graves x Female Reader]

TW⚠️: yandere tendencies, smut/nsfw/nsft/18+, hate sex(?), pharmaceutical student reader, reader is socially detachedbut academically ambitious, group projects, what is presumed to be a one-night stand become an obsession (for Andrew at least), etc

A/n: Honestly, I think I might write a prequel to this. Thank you for the request, anon.

What a waste of your time, a group project with one of the people you hate most. You see, you had the misfortune of meeting Andrew Graves and his dysfunctional family since your grandmother used to live in the same building as them. Honestly, the whole neighborhood was trash. You're glad you convinced your parents to move her somewhere else so she could spend her last days in peace.

But back to topic.

You are not a fan of group projects, nor of anyone from the Graves family, and a double negative doesn't mean it's a positive. What the heck is the professor thinking by combining law and pharmaceutics? What's the common ground here?

"Professor #*+&#<+*, I would like to change partners." That's the first thing you sain when you approached your Professor.

"Afraid not, Miss [Last Name]." They denied.

"Can I at least work alone?"

"No, a group project is a must in this case. If there's a problem, take it up with your partner, like a reasonable adult. Isn't that right, Mr. Graves?"

"Yes, Professor." That creep was standing behind you the whole time. Those people who say that Ashley is a lunatic clearly didn't have a chance to analyze Andrew's behavior.

And his creepy staring makes your skin crawl.

Once the professor left, it was just you two.

You sigh in frustration. "Listen," you started off, "I don't want to do this anymore than you, so to make this easier, let me do all the work, and you can just write your name and do the presentation part."

"No."

That brat, you just offered him something that any student would take in a heartbeat, and he refused.

"I want a good grade as much as you do, come to my dorm room after class."

"What... No!" You right out refused.

"Fine then, I'll come to yours." There's no way you're gonna let him anywhere near your stuff.

"No, no. I'll come to your room."

"Good, I'll see then." He leaves, and you are hit with the realization of what you just done.

"Son of a-"

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Now you're standing in front of his door, contemplating whether to ditch and fail or knock and risk getting killed.

Should've worn body glitter, so your chances would be low.

Taking a risk, you knock, and to your delight, no one answered.

"Hey."

And your luck decided to turn on you.

"Did you wait too long?" Andrew asked so nonchalantly.

"No, I just... got here."

Andrew just walked past you and opened the door.

"Come in."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

After hours' worth of work and preparation, you two called it a day. As you were packing up your things, you glanced at Andrew. As much as you hate him, you won't deny that he's handsome, the type of guy you'd end up having a one-night stand, but definitely not someone you'd be in a long-term relationship with.

"[Name]-"

"Listen, we both hate each other, and you're probably a sexual deviant, so why don't we just a fuck and then never talk to each other after the presentation?" In your defense, anything that provided socialization has been an alien concept to you and the people around you would bother you with the phrase 'come on, live a little!' So why not? You'd be killing two birds with one, unfortunately shaped rock.

You wait for Andrew to stop panicking and once he did, his hands were covering his face.

"Is that a 'no'?"

"It's not a 'no'... I...I do want to." So it was embarrassment that he was expressing.

Not wasting much time, you place yourself between his legs and undo his pants, the bulge in his boxers has gotten bigger. Carefully, not to get smacked in the face, you take off his boxers, and his dick sprung out. It was way bigger than what you saw o those porn websites after getting baited.

Wrapping your hand around his shaft and moving it in an up and down motion, earning a small hiss from Andrew.

'Intrestin.' You thought as you picked up the speed a bit, making his breathing ratchet. Deciding that that wasn't enough, you pressed your lips to the tip, which rilled him up more. You were done with teasing and put the tip inside your mouth and bobbing your head, taking more of him in.

Andrew ended up moaning your name, which made you abruptly stop. Who knew that your name could sound thrilling when it's moaned out.

You continued on until you felt it twitch inside your mouth.

Suddenly, you feel Andrew's hand bunching up your hair and pushing your head, forcing you to deep throat him as he came.

Well, the taste was ... something.

Once you were free and done with your coughing fit, you noticed Andrew was bricked up again.

"You don't happen to have protection?" That's right, you needed to be safe about this.

Andrew just opens a drawer and pulls one out.

Now, what happened in between that short amount of time was a blur. What is currently occurring is that you, in only your bra, are on top of Andrew with his dick deep in your cunt. Hands on your hips pushing you up and slamming you down at an uforgiving speed, drawing you closer to your release.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You wake up in Andrew's bed and come to yourself. You shot up and looked around you.

The time! You need to know the time!

There was a clock that said 1:15, and since it was dark outside, that meant it was morning.

Grabbing your stuff, you quietly make it out of his room and successfully sneak into your dorm room.

A while later, Andrew wakes up and notices you're not next to him. Turning on the lamp on the desk just confirmed that you left, but you seem to have forgotten something.

Your underwear laying at the foot of his bed. Picking up the garment, he noticed he was turned on again.

Andrew sits on his bed, with one hand on his shaft and the other one that is holding your panties, now pressed to his face.

If you haven't found him repulsive before, wait until you find out what he does when he stalks you.

A/n: Sometimes I wonder if I go too far with my writing.

[ahappydnp]

so sorry but ive seen two different things about this now and im very lost, why did people think they were breaking up/broke up in 2012??? pls help me understand, wise keeper of the lore. thank u so much

response under the cut for general 2012 discussion/too long

basically 2012/2013 used to get (and sometimes still is) generalized as this dark and awful time period where dnp "hated" each other and us, when in actuality it was two very young very scared closeted queer people who were in the process of several major life changes at once while also dealing with a new exploding fan base

there's a few big things from that "era" that people talk about:

deleting old posts- around this era dnp deleted a ton of old tweets/formsprings/dailybooths that could read as them being in a relationship. they were blowing up online and had more eyes on them than ever before, not to mention had just starting working with the BBC (where being queer would have greatly affected their careers). also keep in mind dan was still in the closet to EVERYONE, and now he's got tons of fans going through his accounts and sending shit to HIS LITTLE BROTHER on tumblr asking if dan's gay. anyway people decided them deleting early tweets meant they had broken up

dan's customerservice tumblr blog- in the middle of them blowing up and people finding all these old posts, dan in an effort to control the narrative, makes a new blog for people to anonymously ask him questions (: which went about as well as you can imagine for an extremely defensive closeted 20 year old with undiagnosed depression. basically he said some unfortunately things out of fear

the video leaked again- won't get too much into that because of the subject matter, but the yeah the video leaked for the second time except this time way more people saw it/shared it and dnp actually had to respond to it this time. which is. just fucking awful and heartbreaking all around.

phil persona- basically this was the birth of the amazingphil persona that'd follow phil to the quiff era. he became more sanitized and less personable than original phil fans were used to (which got romanticized into uwu he's sad because he and dan broke up and now he's shutting down)

"no homo"- pretty self explanatory...people asked if they were gay (every single day constantly on every platform) and they would say no because what else are they going to say. this one particular vyou where dan's actually trying to make people think kills me (x) god he was so young. but they'd also started doing the "omg i don't want to see you naked/ew people want us to kiss" and the infamous "you need a girlfriend" "my future wife" etc etc.

the breakup rumors mostly stemmed from and became popular/ treated as fact by younger fans who kind of saw them as these fictionalized characters (which i mean not to blame them because they were literal children and youtubers were still so new that people did treat them like tv show characters you could be friends with). it also got turned into more sinister theories like the "dan is abusing phil" ones and "phil is actually gay but dan isn't and just used phil for attention and fame in 2009"

there was also factors like them moving to london in 2012 (and people were CONVINCED they'd stop being friends in london??), people thinking them getting popular would mean they'd get girlfriends like other popular youtubers (shoutout danrific shippers), and most importantly just them sharing less about their personal lives with their audience. like of course they're not going to live tweet their day/location anymore when people are showing up at their house and trying to find their families.

basically, dnp were putting boundaries between themselves and their fans, but the fans interpreted it as putting distance between each other. in actuality the 2012/2013 era was full of some really amazing memories and content and things people loved (literally the photobooth challenge is from 2013!! sleeping phil saying i hate you is from 2012!!!)

in conclusion, imagine building a forever home with your ex lmao

[sloth-beear]

My toxic trait is being Eurylochus’ number 1 supporter actually. It’s actually made it very hard to engage in the EPIC fandom because everyone seems to hate him.

Like damn guys I get that he fucked up once or twice but so did Odysseus? Why are Eurylochus’ fuck ups seen as such a big deal compared to Ody’s? Because at the end of the day, Ody got more of his crew killed than Eury (giving out his name, address, etc. to Polyphemus). Eury just delivered the final kill shot. Why is that so much more unforgivable to you all?

I could also argue in his defense for like, all of the other fuck ups he did. Bc if I was second in command to someone through a ten-year long war, and then after that period the guy began changing, making decisions without informing me and getting angry at me for addressing concerns in front of other people, I would have a hard time trusting that guy still! Like where is this coming from all of the sudden my guy, I thought I was supposed to be your right hand man! I’d open the damn bag too at that point, bc bro has clearly proven that he is no longer the guy I trusted for ten years.

The fandom’s hatred of him is just so damn weird to me bc Eurylochus really is just… the voice of the crew? AKA 90% of the cast (since, yknow, there’s 600 of them). He is just the voice of the average human being during this time. It seems unreasonable to hate him and pretend that Odysseus is doing what the average person would do when Odysseus is CANONICALLY the prodigy of the goddess of wisdom. He is not a normal guy making normal decisions, Ody HAS a wisdom buff and everyone else on that ship is working with normal human IQ. I bet at LEAST 80% of the fandom would be on the crew and Eurylochus’ side for most of the show if they were there.

(This is by no means Odysseus slander btw. Love that little guy. Mainly just a very messy rant about how it is also ok to love Eurylochus despite the fact that the two inevitably end up fighting. You can do both people? It’s really not that hard??)

(Also, I have not read the Odyssey. These comments are SOLELY about actions committed during the EPIC play by the EPIC characters.)

[fourcornersofcreation]

Percy and Grover are the two biggest gossips in the riordanverse and no one can convince me otherwise.

Percy/Grover knows when the other has just learned something juicy cause of their empathy link (that's been completely forgotten buy literally everyone, something I cry bout everyday).

Now don't get me wrong, Percy and Grover would never share/spread what they know outside of each other, they know how damaging rumours can be.

I just hc that Percy subconsciously seeks out information on other people as a sort of "passive" defense mechanism if that makes sense.

With how little people tell him (if they tell him anything at all) and how often everyone, even those closest to him, deliberately keeps him in the dark, his habit of seeking out "gossip" and "rumors" when he was younger steadily developed into a habit of seeking and hoarding whatever information he could find.

Like he doesn't need to know but he'd like too, and virtually nothing about his behavior towards the others would change aside from the fact he'd be more prepared to interact/deal with the person he's talking to/facing, more prepared to "code switch" in a way.

Which loops in well with the fact that many people (Grover, annabeth, Thalia, Bianca, Zoe etc) confide in Percy/tell him bout their pasts/secrets easily enough, and while Percy listens to and empathizes with them he rarely offers up his own experiences.

One of the only times I can remember where Percy tried to get someone to see/understand his pov was in TLT where he asked annabeth something to the effect of "what if it was your dad that was kidnapped?" and annabeth replied with something like "I wouldn't care" which understandably surprised Percy. I think that interaction is part of the reason why Percy never speaks about himself/his past with others, it's obviously not the only thing that contributed but I think it was a decent sized factor in maybe not creating but rather cementing the idea that Percy should keep his cards as close to his chest as possible, and if he ever had to share any of his cards I think he'd like to know how he should share them, like how he should phrase things and what points he should make yk?

The more he knows bout the person he may have to interact with, the easier it would be to "make a plan" so to speak (and by "make a plan" I mean that Percy wouldn't have to worry much bout stepping into uncomfortable territory if that makes sense)

Let's not forget that despite what everyone says and believes (both in universe and in fandom), Percy is not only smart as hell, he's also incredibly observant and he notices a lot of things, he'd find it real easy to build a profile on everything he comes into contact with.

Grover, due to the empathy link, did pick up Percy's habit and adopted it himself but he also just straight up likes to gossip

(This got kinda derailed/rambley and this hc is totally just me projecting onto Percy a lil, I stand by it tho.)

[jaegersmoon]

As a person who hasn’t experienced these horrible things that y/n has, could you please explain what made her jump to react that way? I mean this as a genuine question, I am so confused after reading. She receives a threatening letter and her response is to be unnecessarily cruel (and very hypocritical) to someone who has treated her very well rather than be concerned about the letter and explain what happened? However, maybe it is best for them both to work through their traumas before getting into a relationship.

lord let me lock in. just warning u this is abt to be long asf bc i have a lot to say.

i don’t speak for everybody but i do speak as someone who was in years of a very abusive relationship and for y/n’s characterization that i worked extremely hard on.

one thing about me is i am a very intentional writer. the signs of y/n’s fear of abandonment and love, lack of trust, and her want to run away were always there, sprinkled and foreshadowed all throughout the book. you just need to read between the lines.

when y/n defended jean at the club or in the bathroom at cyberwave when she threatened annie or confronted those girls, those things weren’t written just for the fun. they were meant to be indicators to show that y/n has unaddressed trauma and has accidentally picked up reactive behavior that she grew up around both in a household and love.

even when she was nothing but kind and perfect and put together to make other peoples lives easier, not wanting to be the burden she was made to feel that she was since she was a little girl, the turmoil within her was always always vicious. it’s just not silent anymore.

why do you think jean had to pull her out of her head so many times?

the things she said during the argument were INTENTIONALLY hypocritical and full of projection. jean needed to call her out for it and point out the things she didn’t want to see or else she would keep going the way that she's been going, faking her joy and hiding her true issues away for the sake of others. she has trained herself to be that way FOR other people. to keep them happy and help them be the best person they can be because of her incessant need to fix people. looking back at ob since the very beginning y/n has been someone who has constantly been advising and being there for others. i.e. helping jean navigate through his own grief, sitting and talking to reiner about his familial issues, advising mikasa on her relationship with eren etc. she is a giver to a FAULT and she uses her calling to help others to distract herself from the fact that she needs help, too. her empathy runs deep for others but she has none for herself.

i can't stress enough that ever since her mom died, y/n has never had a complete breakdown like this, mind you her father even shamed her for crying at her own mother's funeral. so that is nearly ten years of bottling pain, grief, anger, disappointment, fear and a million other things. instead of fixing herself she put all of that energy into fixing other people--her father, porco, lucas, jean, her friends in trost--leaving her fraudulent in her own happiness and her healing. if you look at her life, what happened in 41 was a long time coming.

the hits made by jean were very direct which is why she got even more angry because of how exposed she felt. she KNEW that she just didn’t want to acknowledge it made her push away 10x harder.

she was cruel because she was scared and angry. it was a defense mechanism and jean just so happened to walk straight into it and everything she has spent so long bottling came spilling out.

y/n’s childhood was nothing but reactive. so was her love life. lucas, her father, and porco were all extremely reactive people who did extremely reactive things; fighting, throwing/hitting things, yelling. and she was nothing but a terrified, softhearted girl who who learned not to react because of the consequences and instead shelled up and let the explosion happen all around her for years and years. she has fought so hard to be kind and gentle despite the anger and harm she grew up around but sadly, as it happens so frequently in life, she ended up picking up on those behaviors.

i think people are undermining how important it is that she was able to even acknowledge that. the fact that even in such a dark state of mind she was able to self-reflect and see her mistakes is so important. that's how you know that she isn't truly cruel like porco or keith. if she were, she wouldn't have been able to recognize her behavior and she wouldn't feel as terrible about it as she did. her reaction isn't who she is but rather a reflection of the people in her life before that she loved the most.

yes. jean has been kind and has treated her very well but just because that's true doesn't automatically mean that her brain will be able to digest that. you also have to remember that porco treated her very well in the beginning, too, before he became controlling, abusive, and narcissistic. so that makes her even more scared to trust. she fell for it once and it left her less than half the person she was when she met him and she doesn't want to go through that again so she pulled away herself before it could be done to her even though she is in love with jean. think of it like disorganized attachment.

when you get out of something as toxic as what was porco’s and y/n’s relationship, it literally ALTERS your brain chemistry. it changes the way you think, you feel, you love, you exist. and when i say that shit lingers. it LINGERS. you have to unlearn what their hatred, manipulation, and toxicity taught you. think of it basically like learning how to be a functioning human again because they stripped you completely of the knowledge of who you were before them INTENTIONALLY so you would feel like you would be nothing without them.

i got out of my relationship a while ago and what was done to me still haunts me to this day. i find myself unable to trust, hesitant to love, questioning my worth, and scared to be myself because of how i was shamed for it. it’s like a devil on ur shoulder that never goes away constantly reminding you what was done / said to you and constantly trying to tell / convince you that they were right and that you deserved everything you were put through by them.

it’s the same exact thing for y/n. if you read her flashback you can see first hand how brutal porco was to her and that’s just a glimpse. you need to remember that she LOVED him. like i cannot stress enough she genuinely, deeply loved him to the point she would have rather died than lose him. he was EVERYTHING to her at one point and her love for him is what got her trapped. she constantly poured into him until she was sucked dry and the only person she had once she was finally set free was herself. she had no friends. no support. no family. nothing. she has been completely in her own until she moved to trost.

porco constantly told her that she would never be loved. that they would get tired of her. that they would find her disgusting. even told her she was better off dead time and time again. it doesn’t matter who you are, that shit will stay with you. even her father made her feeling thins way, he did not gaf abt her.

people have constantly called y/n stupid for taking so long to realize that jean had feelings for her. she isn't stupid. she was written that way on PURPOSE. her mind literally cannot understand that jean could possibly see her in the light that her does because her brain is so hardwired to believe that no one ever would. it's even hard for her to swallow that her friends care about her the way they do and is constantly asking herself what she did to deserve it because she was frequently told for her entire life that she doesn't deserve anything. if she feels that way about her FRIENDS its going to be 100 times worse when it comes to romantic feelings since her only experience of love was treacherous.

and the fact she found the strength to admit to herself that she's in love with jean after coming from something terrible is very very looked over imo. coming from what she comes from that takes a lot of strength. and it's because of how much and how deeply she loves jean that she is a million more times more terrified that he is going to abandon her just like everyone else. she loves him even more than she loved porco so you can imagine the fear she feels knowing that love got her into such a mess the first time around.

when you say, "instead of just showing him the letter and explaining what happened” she said it herself, she doesn’t want anyone to know what’s on that letter. it's everything she ran from. everything she fought to keep buried. it makes her feel worthless. ashamed. nothing. if you know y/n’s character at all, you know that she does not open up or ask people for help. she never has. she literally doesn’t know how. all the other times in her life she asked for help, she was shamed for it or called crazy, or was called a useless waste of space.

think back to the scars. porco KNEW she needed help. saw it with his own eyes. she even told him that she did. she said, "i'm sad all the time and i don't know why i think there might be something wrong with me." porco's only response was: "what do you want? for me to feel sorry for you?" and that came from someone she loved and who was supposed to love her. her father was the exact same way. that response to her brokenness is all she knows. why do you think she frequently struggled to cry? because she was so shamed for her emotions she literally trained herself not to even though she feels things more deeply than the average person.

not to mention, the content that was on the letter calls for DEEP conversations about things she is not ready to have. so instead, she chose to hide it away and try to deal with it herself because that's all she has done for her entire life.

please don't underestimate the fact that when when she ran out to try and stop jean from leaving she WAS going to tell him about the letter but it was too late. he was already gone. she deserves credit for even attempting to look over her fears and confide in him especially after her trust was betrayed by their mutual friend.

you also need to remember that y/n has hardly opened up about the things she’s been thru. what she has told the gang about her life is slim to none. even jean which is what he called her out for. the only reason he caught on to the type of ppl her father and her ex are is bc he saw it first hand when he went to stohess w her not bc she confided in him. even when he asked her if porco hurt her before, she didn't say yes or no, she simply looked at him. jean was able to put two and two together reading her as well as he does, but even still, he doesn't know close to anything about the true trauma of what she went through. the only thing she ever told him that porco did to her was when he saw the scar on the back from when she fell on glass and she was very scarce on details even w that.

same with her father. jean knows he changed after her mom died and drinks heavy but he doesn't know to how severe of a degree. he doesn't know she used to have to clean vomit off of him or that he used to beat her and lucas when they were little or that he would be gone for days on end or that she was the one that found lucas when he tried to commit bc her father was passed out drunk on the couch. the things her friends / jean know about her are all surface level and she has undermined everthing she has revealed because she simply can't process what she went through was truly as bad as it was. she also doesn't want them to worry about her.

one of her most famous lines is "what if i can't bring myself to tell you everything that happened to me?" again, that was INTENTIONAL dialogue. because she can't. especially not now that one of her "friends" betrayed her after learning about her life before.

if annie knows about personal things in y/n’s life that porco told her and ended up taking his side and judging her her for the things of her past, she is 100% going to believe what the letter said and jump to the conclusion that other people around her will too. you also have to remember that everyone back in stohess ALWAYS believed porco. after they broke up, he did not speak of her with grace. part of the reason she left is because her destroyed her image. so in her head its history repeating itself. it's only natural for her to shut down.

to save herself from that pain of abandonment, she chose to take the power into her own hands since she was so powerless in all of her losses that came before.

p.s. listen to the bridge of the smallest man who ever lived by t.s. or the greatest by billie eilish. those two songs perfectly describe what she came from. her wounds are gaping and all of what she has been masking for the sake of others is finally spilling out. it was a long time coming.

[nottslove]

Hii Can I take part in your song drabble idea? My favorite song is BLUE by Billie Eilish! 🖤 (and THE GREATEST) Love you byyye!!

event; profile; nav; hey! of course you can take part. so i was trying to choose between the two songs, but i couldn't! so i decided to do a mix of both...

1.7k words

well both these songs are about regret and sadness, and what could have been. i feel like this is angsty again...

and i feel like it describes tom riddle perfectly. where the reader fell for him hard, but he didn't reciprocate because he couldn't love.

this was actually so heartbreaking to write, i hope it's alright... i loved writing it actually. this is my first time writing for tom. i hope i did a good job of portraying him.

tags: @juliet-017 @viperify my first time writing for tom. i want the tom queens to approve it. if y'all approve, i'll write more for this mf.🙈🙈

warnings: ANGST, dubious consent, pregnancy, manipulation, etc.

song: blue/the greatest, billie eilish slytherin boy: tom riddle.

you wanted him the moment you saw him.

he had everything.

the looks, the brains, and even charisma and charm needed to woo you.

you didn't know why you had even thought he genuinely had interest in you.

of course, you should have seen that he only wanted the power and influence that came with dating you; the daughter to the minister of magic.

you should have seen that tom had never really harbored any real interest towards you.

he only wanted to use you to get closer to your father, to get access to your home library... to get an internship at the ministry... and once he had gotten what he had wanted, he tossed you aside like you meant nothing to him.

you should have seen it coming.

he had wrecked you in the worst way, leaving you with nothing but a baby, who would forever be a tangible reminder of the man you had once loved.

the first time he spoke to you was during a charms class. he had slid into the seat beside yours and flashed you a charming smile.

you were already his from then on, you knew it. and he knew it too.

but tom didn't ask you out at the end of class.

no, he played it slow.

he made you wait.

he would touch your elbow in the library, and brush his fingers across your shoulder in a manner that seemed accidental, but realistically, had driven you insane.

he would talk to other girls, make you pine for him, yearn for him.

only a two months later did the torment finally end, and he asked you out to slughorn's christmas party.

like a perfect gentleman, he complimented your dress, and he wore you on his arm all evening, like you were some pretty trinket that everyone else was envious of.

"a fine match they make," slughorn had said. "tom riddle and the minister's daughter..."

too bad you were a mere prize for him, a conquest, another book to read before he took the information he needed and tossed you back on the shelf for someone else to read.

he spent the christmas break at your place.

your parents loved him. but then again, tom was had always been an expert at getting people to like him.

in no time at all, he was a constant visitor at your place. your father enjoyed the high-level intellect, and your mother enjoyed how tom always complimented her cooking, and how young she looked.

he did give you the attention you needed, though, knowing very well that if you got bored of him, or left him, all his efforts would go to waste.

he gave you expensive gifts, read you poetry, and even carried your stuff for you.

the perfect boyfriend.

he had an insatiable thirst for knowledge that fascinated you, even though most of his interest lied in reading more about the dark arts.

whenever you asked him why he enjoyed the dark arts so much, he always somehow explained that he didn't understand some of the things the professor had taught in defense against the dark arts class, and he had decided to find the answers on his own.

you never thought twice about it.

you shared your first kiss near the black lake.

you had been upset with tom for ignoring you the whole time during another one of your dates to hogsmeade.

he hardly gave you any attention.

the last straw was when he claimed that he needed to meet some journalist at the hog's head, and told you to go wait for him at the three broomsticks.

you waited.

and waited.

but he never came.

in the end, you went to the black lake in anger and sat underneath the willow tree, crying your heart out.

you should have broken up with him then. you wanted to.

but then he found you.

and you opened your mouth, fully prepared to say something to break it off when his mouth descended on yours.

hot, heavy and full of passion. after all, tom was a man, and he had needs.

and you were fucking pretty.

all the boys were jealous of him.

"i'm sorry," he had murmured, tender fingers moving to brush your hair behind your ear. "i won't ever make a mistake like that again."

so you forgave him.

years later, you realized that he had probably used legilimency on you, to read your mind and manipulate you into staying with him.

true to his word, tom never neglected you again.

he was ever the dutiful boyfriend.

in no time, you were head over heels in love with him.

and he?

he didn't know how to love.

he couldn't love.

of course, you being young and foolish, confessed your feelings for him.

"tom, i.. i think i love you," you said softly one evening, right after another one of slughorn's parties.

"me too..."

younger you had been okay with his response, but older you realized that he had just said it to keep you quiet.

but a small part of you always felt like he wasn't truly there. with you.

if only you had trusted that little hunch...

the moment you graduated from hogwarts, you had expected him to propose.

but he didn't.

no, he was off doing great things, chasing the impossible.

you could feel him slipping away, you could feel the way he immersed himself in the dark arts.

you could see him grow paler, less human. he hardly gave you any attention any more.

still, he was your whole world.

you tried everything to keep him interested. you would give him all control of your body, letting him do whatever he wanted.

he used you for pleasure, and he used you as a stress reliever, even though you weren't in the mood at times.

you let him take, because you didn't want him to leave you.

he would disappear for hours on end, and show up late in the night. you knew you were supposed to be especially patient with him at this time.

he always came home angry.

but he was still your tom, your first love.

you missed those days when he would read poetry to you, even though he claimed poetry was stupid.

you missed those days when he used to take you out on days and tell you how pretty you looked.

now, he didn't even eat the food you took so much effort to prepare.

it was always straight to the bedroom.

he would kiss you and slide your clothes off, and even though you would tell him you weren't in the mood, he would manipulate you into doing something you didn't want to do.

"tom—... not tonight—"

his lips would coax yours open and he would shove his tongue between your lips. "why not? don't you love me?"

he always took advantage of your love for him. you were so easily swayed, so malleable that he required hardly any effort to get you to do what he wanted.

"i.. i do, but—"

"don't you want to make your boyfriend happy?"

"i do, but—"

he would silence you after that, pressing his fingers against your lips.

"talking is not what i had in mind for that mouth..."

and then he would use you however he wanted, and you never said a word because you didn't want him to leave you.

you loved him. you couldn't imagine your life without him.

and somehow, you couldn't help but feel that things would get better.

you had hope.

the day your pregnancy test came out positive, you were full of hope.

hope that things would get better. so you prepared to tell tom the happy news.

tom came home extremely angry that day. so you didn't tell him about the new life growing inside your belly, but a week later, he figured it out on his own.

he was furious.

he didn't want an heir.

he didn't want to be trapped with you for life. he was destined for greater things. those were his exact words.

and so, ignoring your tears and protests, he ordered you to have an abortion.

you downright refused. he had taken everything from you, but this baby was the one thing you wouldn't let him take.

and so, he tossed you aside.

you were of no use to him any more.

you went back to your parents' place, both of who were disappointed to hear about how things had ended with tom.

it was hard being back there. you were completely heartbroken. you had given him everything, and he took and took.

your youth, your love, your life.

he left you with nothing but a baby, and a shell of your previous self.

it was awful. the society around you looked at your growing belly with disgust.

"he left her? well, she must have done something wrong..."

"imagine the baby— fatherless..."

"a match that perfect was doomed from the very start.."

and you wondered what you had done wrong.

years later, you realized you had done everything right, and it was all him.

he was the problem.

it was a girl.

she became your everything.

she was the complete opposite of tom, and bore no resemblance to him whatsoever.

for that, you were grateful.

she grew up to be sweet, and pretty, and she absolutely adored you. she became your best friend.

the only person who looked at you like you were the entire world.

to tom, you may have not been anything.

you had always thought of him as the greatest, but with time, you came to realize he was to be pitied, instead of envied.

for he would never know love.

he had a chance to feel, and he blew it away.

he was the worst thing that ever happened to you, but he gave you the most beautiful gift in the world.

your daughter.

she was the best thing that ever happened to you. tom hadn't loved you, or treated you right, but she?

she was just the greatest.

and to her, you were the greatest.

event; profile; nav;

©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[grimmsbride]

❛Stuck to the screen, your words repeating. ❜ ⸺ Kamo Choso

【⠀♱⠀】 SYNOPSIS. after a long night of gaming, choso helps you fall asleep with his.. soothing voice.

【⠀♱⠀】 WARNINGS. ooc choso | soft dom! choso | phone [more like voice chat] sex | not public sex but there was the threat of reader’s friends joining since it’s a public vc | porn no plot | reader & choso are gamers | mutual pining | mutual masterubation | overuse of pet names | choso is a tease | choso uses “mama” idc idc, it fits him [TO ME] | etc. if i forgot something let me know.

【⠀♱⠀】 AUTHOR’S NOTE. it’s the way i’m thinking about other things except piv sex, which is very exciting cause the shit got repetitive on my other acc. PLEASE EXCUSE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES.

People that claimed gaming was a perfect past time were either naive or just plain stupid. How could one find the competitive, and nerve wracking hobby peaceful? There was always something going wrong. Whether having an awful teammate,a a bad day, or even— something as silly as bad luck.

Personally you didn’t love video games. You had no plans of getting shouted at by grown men over a digital creation, which stats didn’t affect you in real life. But.. as your friends usually did, they lured you into gaming.

Quickly too, giving you tips and tricks to assure you didn’t drag the rest of them down. And as much as you hated to admit it, you actually enjoyed it. Clicking with the rest of your friends, especially a man around your age named Kamo Choso.

During group meet ups you and him spoke pleasantly on just about everything. Life, his siblings, shared music interest.. you two clicked deeper then you have with anyone else.

An innocent connection you felt were developing into feelings..

Manicured fingers slammed into the keyboard rested on the desk, whilst soft swears escaped your lips. You blinked at the bright screen, sighing heavily the moment defeat in bold red letters flashed across it.

“This is our fifth loss in a row..” You moaned in annoyance, leaning back in your chair; adjusting the black headset you wore carefully. A soft chuckle came from the other line, taking you away from your annoyed thoughts.

“You suck when you’re tired..”

“I’m not tired, Choso.” You countered quickly, rolling your eyes the moment another chuckle came from the man. You breathed softly, clicking off the game screen and switching over to discord. Your eyes traced the computer for a moment.

Choso and you were the only ones currently awake or rather currently in the voice chat, and have been for the past hour and thirty-minutes. You hadn’t meant to play this long, however you sometimes got carried away.

You heard shuffling on the other side of the headset, causing you to gently grab your mic. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Are you?” Choso asked in a soft hum.

Your lips twisted in uncertainty, thinking over your options. The two of you could play another round and risk losing for the sixth time— or maybe try another game.. and still lose. Either one didn’t seem like good choices, but, you didn’t want to get off the chat with Choso; just yet.

So, with a soft hum you shook your head before replying with a quick “No,” when you realized he couldn’t see.

The man gave a curt sound, one that was surely of confusion. “Then.. do you want to go another round?”

“No..” You sighed, rising from your chair to waltz over to your bed. You landed upon the cushiony mattress harshly, rolling onto your back and laying in a starfish position. “You should read me a bedtime story or something.”

“I thought you weren’t tired?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his words, causing your lips to twitch— attempting to force down a smile. You rolled to your side, closing your eyes. “I’m not,” You said defensively, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position on the bed. “—but I do need to go to sleep, and you have a soothing voice.”

For a moment you couldn’t hear a thing, only your own breathing— making you worry the voice chat had lagged out. But as quickly as those thoughts came they left even quicker, given the man was replying with a simple;

“Yeah?”

You smiled slowly, smoothing your cheek into the soft pillow. “Yeah..”

Choso paused for a moment before uttering, “Hm.. I’m sure you just have a voice kink.”

Your eyes opened wide at his statement, eyebrows pinched close as a warmth spread across you. Did.. did he just read you like a book? Was the single thought in your mind, causing you to slowly sit up to think it over.

And yet, he didn’t give you that moment, interjecting before you could even think to reply; “What, did I hit it right on the mark? I was only joking..”

You’ve talked to Choso many times to know when he was joking or not— plus you weren’t an idiot, he was being dead serious.

So, you slowly cleared your throat, scooting back to rest against your headboard. “No, what even makes you think that?” You questioned, lying straight through your teeth. You bit back a grin the moment you heard an airy chuckle, ignoring how such a sound caused shivers to dance down your spine.

“It’s obvious. Every single time I talk to you, you have this same look in your eyes.” He hummed into your ear, causing your eyes to flutter shut. “Always listening, far too intently.. Eyes focused completely on my voice rather then my words. No wonder you always say huh, whenever we speak.”

Read after read— Choso wasn’t giving you air to breathe with these completely correct accusations. It wasn’t enough you were physically attracted to the man, no; you had to be head over heels for his voice too.

You opened your mouth to speak, only for Choso to cut in;

“Deny it, and I won’t help you fall asleep tonight..”

Your eyebrows rose, teeth biting the inside of your cheek as you fiddled with your pajamas. “What, you’re gonna read me a story after all?”

“Nah, I was thinking of something else,” His breath was airy, and you swore you could hear the rustling of fabric.

Such a thought caused the heat to pool down to your belly, thighs pushing together as excitement began to sprout. “..Thinking of what?”

Instead of answering you the man gave a soft, “Lie on your back.”

That same heat swept over you, almost daring to question him again but deciding against it. Instead, you were quickly sliding to you lay on your back; hand spreading across the sliver of stomach exposed from your rising shirt.

“I’m.. on my back.” You spoke, nibbling on lip your as your fingers absentmindly traced patterns upon your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, head rolling back onto the pillow as anticipation welled in your stomach.

“Take your pants off,” Choso spoke again, before quickly adding, “—just your pants.”

You didn’t know whether to continue to be excited or annoyed he was dragging the obvious out— yet, you obeyed, again. Your thumbs hooked onto the elastic of your bottoms, tugging them down your body and kicking them to the edge of your bed. You laid there half-bare, waiting so impatiently for his next request.

“Now.. touch yourself.”

Your eyebrows pinched close for a moment, adjusting your position as your legs rose. “Won’t I need to take my panties off?” You asked playfully, fingers sliding under the fabric for a moment before his curt response caused your hand to retract;

“I never said to take them off. I only said to touch yourself.”

You hissed softly, fiddling with the waistband of your undergarments for a split second. You could just push them down now.. there was no way he could tell, right? It was only voice chat.

But, for some stupid reason.. You decided to listen, hand slithering between your legs to slowly stroke your covered folds through the thin fabric. The motions continued as the pleasure set in, your legs widening and soft breaths escaping.

From the other side you could hear Choso’s breathing become shallow with even more rustling following. You could just imagine it; him on his back, hair a mess from laying down and the headset, whilst his strong hand was slowly stroking himself through his boxers.

You wondered if he was leaking already; how there might be a wet spot slowly forming, darkening the fabric. Such a thought had your thighs clenching, finger delicately finding your bud below your panties.

The action caused your head to tilt back, lips parting as an audible gasp escaped.

“Oh, you sound so pretty, princess. So, so pretty..”

You whined softly at his words, feeling far more aroused despite the covered pleasure. Your other hand rose to slink under your shirt, grabbing ahold of your breast to roll your thumb on your slowly erecting nipple. The pleasure was increasing by now, yet still not enough— causing your frustration to build.

“Choso, please..”

“What, what’s wrong?” His voice was taunting and low, clearly aware of what you were practically begging for. “Don’t tell me you wanna take your panties off already?.. So impatient, sweetheart.”

Choso’s words were going straight to your pussy, wetting up the lacey fabric even more. Your hips rose to meet your hand, “Choso, fuck.. Just please, I need to take them off.”

He thought it over for far too long, even humming just to irritate you further. Though, you also heard more rustling and his bed.

Fuck.. how you wished you could see what was happening right now.

“Take ‘em off.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, practically shoving off the garment as if they had personally offended you. You then wasted no time in spreading your legs wide, hand falling between them to slowly separate your damp folds. There, your middle finger reached out; swiping across your swelling bud for a split moment— before beginning small, tight circles on it.

With nothing left to restraint you, your sounds were more vocal now — airy and sweet— driving right into Choso’s awaiting ears. This caused the man to breathe heavily right into the mic, followed by the sounds of wetness.

A flush of warmth escaped as the pleasure continued, moans waning as your combined actions dawned on you suddenly. Here you were, having voice chat sex with a friend, in a chat where just about anyone else could join— at any time. Sure, it was currently three in the morning but the threat still loomed over your head.

It seemed the man had sensed your nervousness given his sudden; “It’s only us on here, mama.. use that pretty voice, let me hear you while you fuck yourself.”

Just from his voice and the vulgarity you were keening, back arching as a finger slowly pushed into your awaiting entrance. The moment you adjusted you were curling the digit, moaning out as your stomach stirred with pleasure.

Choso was praising you at this point, “That’s it, good girl.. Keep playing with yourself,” He spoke, breath rushed with soft groans interrupting. His hand was tight around his throbbing length, thumb swiping at the slit and smoothing his pre-cum across his dick. “Bet your pretending your fingers are mine, huh?” A soft chuckle escaped him— “Or maybe my tongue?.. Or maybe even my dick?”

You swore at his words, a second finger pushing in as your thumb began to rub harsh circles on your clit. “Ch—Choso, fuck..!” You pinched your nipple between your fingers, legs threatening to close as your throat nearly became raw from your voice.

You were close, pussy throbbing around your fingers as arousal leaked down them. Your pace quickened, soft sounds surrounding the room and serving as background noise to the sweetest moans escaping your wet lips.

If only you could see Choso; his eyes rolling back, hips rising into his hand and pretending it was you. His groans were deep, bordering on whimpers each time his hand slipped up to his sensitive tip. He was close too, hissing as his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Come with me, mama.. wanna hear you, fu-fuck.. lemme hear you.” Choso spoke on shaky breath, tensing as his orgasm drew.

You whimpered into the mic, eyebrows pinched close as your fingers never stopped it’s thrusts. Far too quickly you were creaming, staining your skin with your essence which trickled down your taint to your soft blankets. During this you heard a sharp gasp, warmth covering your body and enjoying the soft sounds that followed.

You simply laid there, heavy breathing coinciding with Choso’s own. Your fingers slowly withdrew from between your legs, slick smoothing across your thighs.

“You sleepy now?”

You bit your cheek, “No. No I’m not.”

“Good, I’m coming over in te— five minutes.” Choso spoke rather quickly, before the familiar sound of the voice chat ending entered your ears.

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[kokomos]

𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗡

abby anderson relationship headcanons

  + Abby's the girl who says hello to everyone in the morning and will never fail to thank the people working around base. She's a sweetheart at her core and it's the reason you two got together. She's so friendly that it's almost unknown for her not to get along with someone or at least try to.

+ Definitely tries to impress you with her strength, she knows you've got a thing for her muscles so she'll be sure to show 'em off whenever she's got the chance.

+ Goes to the gym every day, she's one of those people who's hardcore dedicated to their routine. She'd love it if you visited her while she's there working out!! It would make her so happy to have you join her, she'll guide you patiently through all the new equipment so you can get a feel of what you wanna try. Definitely will use anything as an excuse to put her hands on you. She's so cute, she'll give you encouraging rubs on the back after you complete a set.

  - "You did so good, babe! Wanna keep going?"

+ Always has you over at her place, she kicks Manny out for the night so you two can be alone.

+ Basically makes you wear her clothes; after a night together at hers she'll give you one of her favorite shirts to keep. She thinks you're the cutest in her stuff because it's always a little too big on you. Having everyone in the cafeteria see you in her attire is just more incentive to the cause.

+ On occasion, she lets herself enjoy a quiet, lazy afternoon spent with you.

+ Unfortunately for you she takes enjoyment in tickling other people; specially reserved for only those she's closest with. She doesn't go all out, usually a sneak attack of a side tickle but sometimes, sometimes she goes in for the kill. She can have you under her within seconds and it's used to her advantage greatly.

+ Soft dominant. She's had to make a leader out of herself since her father's death meaning she'd rather you take the backseat while she takes care of things.

+ Abby isn't the biggest on physical touch, she wouldn't be constantly touching you like some people would. Affection from you, either alone or with friends, is always welcomed with loving arms though. She prefers expressing her love for you through quality time in your company or doing simple favors to help you out.

+ That being said, she's the kind of girlfriend who will let you take her by the arm or spontaneously grab your hand while walking up behind you.

+ Tilts your face by the chin when she kisses you. Her fingers are so blissfully light on your skin like she's trying her hardest to be as gentle as possible with you.

+ She really is so tender and delicate with you. Always giving you the lightest touches when her fingers inevitably end up tracing the curves on your body.

+ On the other hand, she can show her true strength if you want it. She can pin you down so easily; she can't resist teasing you about your weak muscles (of course she'll follow it with a kiss to avoid your pouting).

  - "See, babe, this is why you have to go to the gym more. What if I was an attacker?"

+ She will more than volunteer to teach you about self-defense, weapons, etc. Actually, if you don't know that stuff already she'll force you to attend a mini class of hers.

+ Such a good teacher, her patience makes learning from her a breeze. Comes at a cost when she’s almost always assigned to training the newbies because of this unmatched skill of hers.

+ If you're a soldier, too, she tries to convince Isaac to let you two stay on the same assignments. Nine times out of ten he says no, it'll be a rare occasion when he gives in to Abby's relentless arguing.

+ She patches you up after missions!! No one else can be trusted to tend to you. You deserve to be babied 100% and anything less than that is unacceptable in her eyes. She ends up staying with you for a couple nights checking up on you near constantly to monitor your condition. It doesn't matter if it's just a couple cuts, she's treating it like a broken leg when it comes to you.

+ With Manny's help, she begins writing you little love letters. Mostly they're innocent messages with her declaring just how cute she thinks you are and how much she loves you. Simple, yet so effective. She knows you cherish each and every one she's written.

+ A sentimentalist at heart! Aside from her coin collection, she has a stash of memorabilia from days in the past to keep the moment and the feelings associated alive. Give her a flower you casually picked from one of the bushes around the base and it'll be drying in a book under her bed so she can keep it forever.

+ When you two get into an argument, she tries to hold back her honesty but it slips out in hurtful ways more often than not. She has a problem of not working with you as a team to solve the issue; Abby views any conflict as a fight and she wants to win more than anything. When this unavoidably makes you upset, she realizes she's done wrong and takes back whatever she's said. Fortunately, arguments never last long and they without exception end with some cuddling.

  - "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I care about you so much…"

+ Very good at reading you, it's half scary and half comforting. You don't need to use a lot of words to get your point across with her, she understands you completely.

+ After you two date for awhile, she realizes how much time she spends away from home and you. She has a talk with Isaac to take shorter trips around less dangerous areas essentially taking a step down in her position.

+ Dreams of following in her father's footsteps by working in the med unit, she knows she can't be a soldier for long; not when she's got a whole future with you to live for.

— ♡☆