#i have been brainrotting about this fic for so long and I'm just now writing it from the very beginning to the very end

[kronkiplier]

Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu - Enter The Dragon (Self-Insert OC Fanfiction)

Hello! I'm here to present my pride and joy, Ninjago: ETD! It's a story that involves some dragon concepts/lore from HTTYD and The Legend of Spyro. The story Is set in Ninjago, starting from S1 to the latest Season.

This is mainly a self-indulgent fic that serves as my self-insert OC's backstory and a slow-burn romance between my OC and Canon (Rykari Furia x Cole Brookstone.)

Ninjago: Enter The Dragon (ETD) tells the story of a young Dracolycan girl called Rykari Furia. Rykari is the descendant of the Grandmaster of Aether, Dragonlord Aldraeyn Furia, and Master of Plasma, Nieda Doryu. She discovers that not only is she the next Master of Plasma, but she inherits her Great-Great-Grandfather's Power of Aether. Her home island of Bethirholm is in danger of infiltrators who seek to harvest the young Dracolycan's special power for their greed, so her father sends her away in hopes of keeping her safe. The night of her departure, a descendant of Viggo Grimborn, Klaude Grimborn, finds Rykari and attempts to capture her. With the help of her Family's old friend, Master Wu, she escapes the mad dragon hunter and accompanies this wise old man to a different realm called "Ninjago" to help find the Golden Weapons of Spinjitzu.

Join Rykari as she meets the Ninja, training to find her true potential as the Master of Plasma and the next Grandmaster of Aether. She meets her new teammates, the Ninja, and allies along the way as she adjusts to the life of a Ninja and embraces her nature as a Dracolycan among her new friends. All while discovering more secrets about her family's past, legacy, and herself.

AO3 LINK:

[purinfelix]

lost and found ✮⋆˙ - franco colapinto

pairing: reader x franco colapinto summary: when you find a curly-haired rookie lost in the wrong garage, you don't think much of it - that is, until he continues showing up, and you begin questioning his intentions w/c: 1.3k (wow jet writing an actual long-ish fic? you better believe it)

a/n: FIRST FRANCO FIC !!!! i've literally been having franco brainrot ever since azerbaijan so here you go (this is your sign to send in franco requests <3)

You spot him out of the corner of your eye nervously ducking out of the way of engineers and strategists, as you prepare for the race ahead. Considering that this is the Red Bull garage, his bright white fireproof sticks out like a sore thumb and when you turn to look at him, his own eyes widen in embarrassment - confirming your theory that he's lost. He's that newbie you've been hearing about, frank? or something, you don't really care to be honest, but he's in the wrong garage and even though he's not one of your drivers you're sure Williams is worried about where he is.

"Are you alright?" you say, and he stops his frantic looking around to look at you with flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, I'm-"

"In the wrong garage," you say flatly, trying your best to stay serious and hide how amused you are at this.

"Yes, I got that, I just can't figure out how to get back to mine," he laughs in a slightly offended tone.

You nod, feigning annoyance as you silently walk ahead and hope he knows to follow you. "Look kid, I don't know if this is your first time on a paddock but you can't really be wandering around other team's garages, even if you are lost. It kind of looks like you're spying on us or something and feeding information back to whoever you've reserve driving for."

His footsteps pause behind you. "Who are you calling Kid?" he scoffs, equal parts irritated and entertained.

"Huh? Well, how old are you? You don't look older than 19."

"I'm 21, thank you very much," he spits out, crossing his arms with a smug look, "and how old are you?"

You pause, awkwardly looking around, "20, but it's clear I have a lot more experience in this than you do." You huff and spin back around, trying to ignore the fact you can hear him stifling laughter.

As you finally make it back to the Williams garage, you open the door and let him in through it, but before he does he pauses to turn you.

"Thank you-" he says, pausing for you to give him your name, and even though you're reluctant to give him the opportunity to spread the news about this embarrassing encounter, you do anyways. Something about the way he looks at you, eyes expecting and a smile toying at his lips, you feel strangely like you'd do about anything he asked.

"And you are?"

"Franco," he says, with an earnest smile, almost as if he's enjoying this situation more knowing how awkward you feel. "I'd wish you good luck, but I doubt you guys will need it," is the last thing he says before he disappears back into his own garage.

And even though you feel a little flustered about the entire situation, you shake it off and head back to your own area, determined not to let it get the best of you - not now, not before a race. You don't even think of him again, besides an occasional glance up when you hear his name said by a commentator, or when you spot his car coming into the pit lane, but that's nothing outside the realm of your duties as a mechanic. You really couldn't care less about him, you tell yourself, and you feel as though you'd be perfectly fine never crossing paths with him again.

But he doesn't seem to share the same idea, because the minute the race is over and you're turning to join the rest of the team out near the podium, you spot him lingering near the door of your garage once more.

"Lost again?" you say as you walk up to him, trying your best to keep as straight a face as you can.

"Not anymore," he replies once he sees you, a reassured smile on his face, "did you see how I did?"

Two feelings wash through you simultaneously - one rational, one asking who the hell this guy is and why the hell he thinks you'd be watching him instead of the very team you work for, and the other a sense of embarrassment, because as much as it pained you to admit, you had been watching him.

"8th?" is all you say in response - not wanting to give too much away about how you felt.

"Yeah, my first points!"

"Well, it's hardly a podium," you scoff, eager not to inflate his ego - after all, he was older than you and surely didn't need to be treated like a preschooler with gold stars. But the minute the words leave your mouth, you watch his excited expression change until slowly he dons a look of embarrassment. Your heart twists and you're suddenly reminded that for whatever reason, instead of celebrating with his team, his family, the girlfriend - which you were sure he had - he had come here, to tell you - someone he had met for the first time mere hours ago.

"Sorry, that was rude, congra-" you begin.

"Is that a challenge?" His voice is low, and it hits you unexpectedly.

"Pardon?"

"Are you challenging me, to get a podium? I mean, I'm still a rookie but I guess if I had a good enough motivator I could do it."

You're caught in a dilemma again, why on earth would you be motivating a different team's driver to do well? If anything, you should be doing the opposite, you had the opportunity to do something for the sake of your team right in front of you - albeit something definitely against FIA ruling - but for some strange reason you couldn't bring yourself to take it, instead playing into his game further.

"And what kind of motivator are we talking about here Franco," you pause to watch him smirk at the sound of his own name, "if you're after secret team intel I can't help you there but if you want, let's say, to know where to get the best coffee on paddock or-"

"How about your number?"

"Wh- Huh?"

"Your number? How about if I get a podium, you give me your number."

He says it so plainly as if it's a simple conclusion, and yet you're speechless. As you stand there silently taking in what he's just said you're equally aware of the fact that he's watching you, which only makes you more flustered.

"What for?" is all you manage to get out, and even though you know it's a stupid question, you want to be sure.

"Oh c'mon, you're a mechanic, surely you can't be that clueless."

"Right," you nod, looking down at your feet shyly and after a moment of silence his concerned voice pipes up again.

"I mean, I know we basically just met, and I know how ridiculous this is, so if you really don't want to I'm not going to force you into anything. You see, I'm really not that kind of guy, I'm actually really a gentleman and usually I'd-"

"Alright," you say definitively, cutting off his nervous rambling - which, if you're being honest, you can only just hear over the pounding sound of your own heart.

"Wh- really?" he asks in disbelief, even though he's the one who proposed the bet.

"Sure, if you can get a podium before the end of this race season, I'll give you my number."

Just at that moment, you hear the rest of your team filing back into the garage to pack up, as well as the distant sound of someone calling for Franco. You look up, partially to silently tell him that the two of you needed to be wrapping up soon, but mostly to watch his face turn from shock to a proud smile as he nods eagerly.

"Okay, yes, sure!" he says sort of breathlessly, "well I guess I'll see you around then. Same time next week?"

You let out a low laugh at his joke, "Sure see you then, and good luck." You watch him turn to jog out of your garage, and as he turns the corner you can still see a beaming smile on his face as he goes - leaving you with the weight of realising just what the hell you've gotten yourself into.

[soaps-mohawk]

I just saw someone talk about Simon Riley being a rapist and the only way they tried to confirm it is by saying that he is a war criminal and all soldiers are misogynistic and sexist and they also talked about how he dreamt of hurting women in the comics when that's quite literally a normal reaction by being raped by both men and women (what I mean is that abused people sometimes dream of becoming someone they're not and don't want to be) but they conveniently forgot to mention how that "dream" was a nightmare. (Just wanted to rant about this and see your opinion)

The sigh I let out when I saw this ask this morning.

I'm so sick and tired of seeing this discourse. Not just in this fandom but in every fandom. Maybe it's just because I'm old and my frontal lobe is fully developed, or maybe it's because I was in fandom back in the days where there were no tags. You were lucky if you got a warning at the beginning of a fic. Most fics you walked in blind and if you didn't like something? You hit the back button and found something else.

This sudden mainstreaming of fandom has ruined these spaces. People come in, refuse to "learn the rules" that most of us learned by just existing in these spaces and watching others interact. There were no written rules back then. We learned by observing and occasionally being guided on fandom etiquette by those more experienced than us. Now it's just like people come in expecting fandom to be like every other space on the internet and then get defensive and angry when they realize it's not. Fandom is cringy. It's nerdy. It's happy and sunshine and it's dark and ugly like every media out there. Us creators and those of us more experienced in fandom have been screaming how to exist in fandom spaces from the rooftops but no one is listening and then everyone wonders why creators are leaving these spaces. Why fandoms keep getting abandoned.

All of that aside, this discourse about FICTIONAL characters pisses me off. Simon Riley is a FICTIONAL character. He has no morality, there is no right or wrong because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him do whatever you want to do because he's NOT REAL. You can give him wings and have him fly and guess what?? Cool, that can happen because he's NOT REAL. You want to make him a rapist? Cool, you can do that because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him whatever you want to make him because he's a character. He's not a living, breathing human being. There are no consequences of his actions because he's FICTIONAL!!!

Don't even get me started on this sudden discourse about dark fics and dead dove that's appeared recently. Dark media has existed for literal centuries. The Epic of Gilgamesh from 1800 BCE. The Odyssey. Mostellaria by Plautus. The Castle of Otranto published in the 1700s. Frankenstein. Dracula. The works of Edgar Allan Poe. Lolita. Hell, look at the Bible. The Bible, especially the old testament, is fucked up. Even in the watered down, bastardized King James version, the things the old testament "God" supposedly did, when you sit and actually think about them outside the lens of religious brainrot, are super fucked up.

People have been creating dark media for a long time. Horror has existed for a long time because it plays to our worst fears. It gives us a safe way to express those fears and to experience them without having to experience them first hand. You wouldn't bitch at a horror movie director for including things like rape and gore and murder in their movies?? So why is writing different? You think every horror movie director agrees with the things they portray on screen? You think every horror movie director would go out and murder someone just because they made a movie about it? No, because we're allowed to portray things in all forms of media, we're allowed to write things without morally agreeing with them. Guess what, most people that write rape or assault or violence, aren't going out and doing those things in real life. They don't support those things in real life. In fact, people that write dark fanfics are some of the loudest protesters against those things.

If you want to make Simon Riley a real person, guess what? He's not going to be even morally grey. Most people in the military are not good people. They're not. The people that are good people in the military, or were in the military, are the ones saying that the loudest. People that got tricked into joining, people that got promised things, people that did it because they had no other choice and then realized what it was really like after getting in? Those are the people to listen to. Not Call of Duty, not the people trying to convince you to join because they're glorified sales people and have a quota to fill. Look up videos of what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan at the hands of American and British soldiers. You would not like Simon Riley if he were a real person.

But he's not real. He's FICTIONAL. Even as a fictional character, he's not a good person. So many Call of Duty fans put on the blinders and ignore the fact that these men are out here committing awful acts of violence and killing people because they're "the good guys." People love to forget that Price literally kidnapped a woman and a child and had them held at gunpoint to get information out of someone. Not only that, he was okay with it. If he were a real person that did that, you would not be questioning if he were a good person or not. You can tell the people that have never played the games or watched playthroughs, who only know these characters through the lenses of fanfics and artwork and headcanons.

Call of Duty is military propaganda. They paint these men as heroes, make it easy to put the blinders up and ignore the things that are happening, the things they're doing so that they can convince young men that they want to do that and they should join the military so they can go out and do that too. That's Call of Duty's audience. That's who they're creating these games for. These young, impressionable boys who get excited by the violence and the action who will go on to fill quota numbers for recruiters. Call of Duty was not made for us, the people writing fanfiction and creating art for it. This side of the Call of Duty fandom will be the first to tell you all of this.

This side of the fandom creates fanworks which would turn Activision's eyes red. We babygirlify their military propaganda because it actively goes against what Activision is trying to do. It goes against what Call of Duty is at its core. Sure, some people water it down a lot, and others keep it more realistic to what these men would be like in real life, because it's FICTION. You can portray these characters however you want because that's what fiction is for.

And guess what, anon? Rape kinks exist. Consensual non-consent exists. It's well known. And guess what? Victims of sexual assault and rape can develop those kinks as a coping mechanism. Here's a study from the NIH website, and if that's too complex for you, here's a VICE news article that uses that study. People can write rape and rape kinks and CNC and noncon and not support it in real life. People can write those things to bring awareness to the fact that they happen to people in real life, or because people in real life have those kinks. People write those things to help victims, to support them. It's cathartic. Dark media most often is created for catharsis. It gives people an outlet, and it allows people to experience those things in a safe, controlled environment for whatever reason.

And that's the thing, anon. People don't have to give anyone a reason for why the consume that kind of media. Creators don't owe anyone an explanation as to why they create it. It's none of your business, and if you're not comfortable with it, then don't consume it. You can turn off the TV if a horror movie is too much for you. People walk out of theaters all the time because a movie is not what they were expecting, be it because it was bad or because it was too graphic or violent or disgusting. You start reading a book and you don't like it for whatever reason? You put the book down and pick up another. Why do people have such a problem with not reading fanfics they don't like? Why do people have such a hard time just blocking creators that make things they don't want to see. Most dark fic and dead dove creators put ample warnings on their blog and their posts. That's why those tags exist. You don't like it and you don't want to see it? Then block and move on and let others enjoy what they want to enjoy.

You pearl clutchers are ruining fandom and soon there won't be anything for you to enjoy. If you can't handle fandom, then don't be in it. There is no algorithm here. You're going to see things you don't want to see and it's very easy to just block and filter tags. There was a time on Tumblr where you couldn't filter tags. I remember those days. You had to download the X-kit extension to block things, and that only worked on desktop. The fact Tumblr gave us the option to filter tags on the site and on the app was a big deal when it was rolled out. I remember so many people that didn't want to use the app when it first came out because you couldn't block potentially triggering tags.

It's not a creator's problem if you were triggered by their media. Life doesn't come with trigger warnings and it's a blessing that it's become so normalized to include warnings at the beginnings of fics. There's websites that exist for other forms of media that will give trigger warnings. If you can look up trigger warnings for a movie and decide not to watch it, you can look at the trigger warnings for fics and decide not to interact with it. You're not out here emailing the directors and producers of movies that include triggers you don't like, telling them they're awful people for including those things in their movie and they shouldn't. Yet you have no problem coming into the comments and inboxes creators who do this FOR FREE because we wrote one dark fic. Because we wrote something that's triggering to you.

And yes, some abuse victims go on to be abusers, some people continue that cycle because they don't have the help and support to break it. It's a sad thing that happens, but it happens. It happens in the fictional world and it happens in real life. People can make that happen to fictional characters for whatever reasons they want.

I've written dark fics. I've written several. I consume "disturbing" media for fun. I've read books and watched movies that would send these pearl clutchers to the hospital. Hell, I've probably written things (some published, some that will never see the light of day) that would turn these pearl clutchers inside out. Guess what? That's okay because it's FICTION. It's cathartic. I don't have to give my reasons why because it's no one's business except those I decide to tell because I trust them and I know they'll support me. I don't support those things in real life. Just because I write for Call of Duty doesn't mean I support the things the game portrays. If you consume Call of Duty media be it the games or fanfiction, does that mean you support what the game supports? What the creators of the games support? What militaries around the world support?

Think about that next time.

I’ve made my stance very clear here before, but I’ll do it again. In real life, I am anti military, anti war, anti gun violence, anti genocide, anti fascism, anti terf, anti homophobia, anti conservative, anti rape, anti domestic violence, anti colonialism and pro choice.

Just because I may create or consume media with those things in it, does not mean I support them. It's high time some of these pearl clutchers learn that.

The next time you want to come into a creator's inbox or comments and spew hatred towards them because of the things they write, why don't you do something useful with your time instead.

This will be my only discussion on this topic. I will not be answering any more asks like this. I will delete and block anyone who tries to come "well actually"-ing into my inbox. If you don't agree with this stance, then get off my blog and block me.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Primal Instinct - San

KINKTOBER DAY 11, REQ. BY @arki-sha

~"Hi Bia!!! I have a Werewolf San brainrot rn because I rewatched his Warriors dance cover so I'll request a Werewolf San x Human Reader.. So, San is in a rut but he doesn't want to spend it with the reader so he was deliberately avoiding her. And when the reader decided to go to San's apartment to confront him, she found out that San was in a rut and that's were the shit happens. As for the kinks, go wild with it girl. But I would like to have some size kink as well as man handling with it. Thank youuu!!!!"

pairing: werewolf!san x human fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: when you decide to confront San after days of him avoiding you, unknowingly step into the lair of a werewolf in rut, you ignite a night of uncontrollable desire and primal intensity.

wc: 3.7k

warnings: werewolf!san, san is in a rut, san is damn desperate and needy, biting, marking, predator/prey kinda feeling, making out, kissing, lots of cum, two rounds, wall sex, dinner table sex, neck holding, breast fondling, manhandling, big dick!san (obvi), some mentions of slightly bleeding marks because of his biting? ex reader's lip bleeding. unprotected (boooo wrap up irl!), completely consensual, unedited, might edit later, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: THIS IS TASTYYYY I LOVE ME SOME NEEDY DESPERATE SAN OMFG. He's so rough but needy and wjiebicjwicjshx I'm going insane. My love, I took EXTRA care of this fic and I hope it's up to your expectations ! Personally I lvoed writing it and I feel like I improved a lost since I first started writing here.. ☹️❤️ I love you and tysm for being one of my loyal followers until nowww 🫂💗

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The chill of autumn had started to settle in, and with it, a strange tension that had been growing in the air. You could feel it creeping into the small space you and San shared, an undercurrent that had begun subtly but now lingered like a heavy fog. The house was quieter than usual, too quiet, and it had been that way for days. You’d grown accustomed to San’s presence, his warmth and affection filling the room with a sense of home. But lately, he’d been avoiding you, pulling away in ways that left you confused and worried.

San had always been open with you, even about the most complex aspects of his life as a werewolf. You had long since come to terms with it—his otherworldly strength, his heightened senses, the way his eyes sometimes glowed in the moonlight with a predatory gleam. These were parts of him you accepted, parts you even loved. Your relationship had always been built on trust and understanding, and San had always taken extra care to make sure you felt safe, no matter what side of him you were dealing with.

But now, for the past few days, something had changed. He had started to distance himself, keeping to his room and avoiding any close contact. At first, you thought maybe he was just going through something personal, something he needed time to work through on his own. But as the days dragged on, the silence between you two became unbearable.

It wasn’t like him. San was affectionate, constantly pulling you close, holding your hand, pressing soft kisses to your forehead in moments when words weren't needed. The absence of his touch had left a cold emptiness in its wake. You missed the way he’d look at you, his gaze filled with warmth and a deep, protective love. Now, he barely looked at you at all.

The curiosity gnawed at you, mingled with concern. What could be so bad that he had to lock himself away from you? What was he hiding?

Today, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had knocked on his door earlier, only for San to mutter something about being busy. But that excuse wasn’t going to work again. You stood outside his door now, hesitating for only a second before deciding that you needed answers. You loved San too much to let this strange distance go on any longer. If something was wrong, you deserved to know what it was.

Your hand hovered over the doorknob before you pushed it open, the soft creak of the wood breaking the silence in the hallway. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tight to keep the outside world at bay. San was sitting at the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, his body rigid with tension. His sharp features were drawn tight, and even from where you stood, you could sense the storm brewing inside him.

“San?” you called softly, stepping into the room.

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, and for a brief moment, a flicker of something wild passed through his eyes before he quickly looked away, running a hand through his messy hair. “You shouldn’t be in here,” he said, his voice rougher than usual, strained.

You frowned, your concern deepening. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me for days. I just want to know what’s wrong. Did I do something?”

San’s hands clenched into fists on his knees, the muscles in his arms tensing. “It’s not you,” he muttered, his voice so low it was almost a growl. “It’s me. You need to leave, *now*.”

His words stung, but more than that, they confused you. This wasn’t like him at all. You took a tentative step closer, refusing to back down. “I’m not going anywhere, San. Please, talk to me. Whatever this is, we can figure it out together.”

He stood up abruptly, turning away from you and facing the wall. His shoulders were broad, his back muscles taut under his shirt, as if he were holding himself together by sheer force of will. “You don’t understand,” he ground out. “I’m not safe to be around right now. I’m in a rut, Y/N. The first real one I’ve had in years.”

Your eyes widened in understanding as his words sank in. You had heard about werewolf ruts before, but this was the first time you were facing it with San. A rut was intense, primal, a period when his instincts were heightened to the point of losing control. San had always been careful about managing his shifts and moods around you, but this… this was something new, something that terrified him more than anything else.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” you asked softly, stepping closer to him despite the warning in his voice.

He nodded, still facing away from you. “I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t trust myself right now.”

You could hear the pain in his voice, the guilt. He was trying to protect you from himself, but in doing so, he was shutting you out. You didn’t want that. You didn’t want him to face this alone.

Tentatively, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his back. He flinched at the touch, but he didn’t move away. Encouraged by the fact that he hadn’t pushed you aside, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

“I trust you,” you whispered against his back. “I know you won’t hurt me, San.”

His body trembled slightly under your touch, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with himself, as if battling between the need to protect you and the overwhelming desire that was consuming him. Slowly, he turned around in your arms, his dark, intense eyes locking with yours. “I’m not sure if I can control myself,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands. His skin was warm, almost burning under your touch. “I trust you,” you repeated softly, looking into his eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”

San let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to grip your arms, as if grounding himself in your presence. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours. His breath was hot and uneven against your lips, and you could feel the restraint in every muscle of his body.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a desperate whisper.

Before you could say anything more, his lips were on yours, the kiss deep and intense, as if he were pouring all of his pent-up emotions into it. It was raw, needy, but there was still tenderness in the way his hands cradled your face, as if even now, he was holding back for your sake.

You kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The tension between you melted away as the kiss deepened, your bodies pressing together in a way that felt both familiar and new. His hands moved down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, but even in the heat of the moment, you could feel him trying to be gentle, trying to keep himself in check.

The kiss lingered, slow and passionate, until finally, San pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours again. His breathing was heavy, his eyes dark with unspoken emotions, but the storm inside him seemed to have calmed, at least for now.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of gratitude.

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I told you. I’m not afraid of you.”

San’s breath was ragged, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder as he fought to control the storm raging inside him. You felt his hands tremble against your waist, his claws teasing the edge of his control but never quite emerging. His body was all heat and tension, his breath coming faster now, more uneven.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he let his hands drift down your sides, fingers brushing along the fabric of your clothes. He gripped the hem of your shirt, his touch delicate, as if the very act of undressing you would shatter whatever fragile restraint he had left. His fingers dug into the fabric for a moment, and you felt the tension in him snap for just a second. He exhaled sharply, as if trying to talk himself out of it.

“I... I can’t,” San muttered, though his actions betrayed his words. His voice was low, raw, filled with a desperation that echoed his struggle. His hands, though trembling, began lifting your shirt, slowly revealing the skin beneath. His breath hitched at the sight, and you could feel his body tensing as his instincts warred with his will. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, his voice thick with need, but his hands didn’t stop.

He pulled the fabric over your head with a swift motion, his touch growing bolder now, more confident. You watched as his eyes darkened further, the wolf in him creeping closer to the surface. His fingers grazed your bare skin, tracing the lines of your collarbone, down your arms, and across your waist with reverence. Every touch was electric, sending shivers through your body as he explored every inch of exposed skin.

“You’re making this so hard for me,” San growled, his voice deep and unsteady. His hands moved lower, fingers ghosting over the waistband of your pants, lingering there for a moment as he struggled to hold back. He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched tight. “I should stop. I should walk away.”

But neither of you moved.

Instead, he tugged at the waistband, pulling your pants down in one rough motion, the fabric slipping from your body effortlessly. His breath caught in his throat, and he took a step back, looking at you as though you were something both sacred and dangerous. His hands reached out, but they hesitated, hovering just inches from your skin, the restraint in his body trembling like a wire about to snap.

“You don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “You don’t know what it’s like... to want something so badly but know you can’t... you *shouldn’t*...” His eyes traveled over you, wild and full of conflict, as his fingers finally found your skin again. His touch was slow, lingering, as though he was trying to savor the feel of you beneath his hands before he lost all control.

His hands were everywhere at once—tracing the line of your spine, sweeping across your waist, exploring the curve of your hip, and back up to your chest. His palms were rough but gentle, his fingers trembling as they brushed your bare skin with reverence, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded. His breath was hot against your neck as he leaned in, his chest pressed against yours, and you could feel every rise and fall of his breathing, erratic and wild.

“I’m losing it,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. His forehead pressed against your collarbone, his lips brushing there, as if he couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. “I’m trying to hold back, but... I can’t, I can’t.” His words were almost a growl now, deep and rough as his hands gripped you tighter, his claws just barely grazing your skin.

You shivered as his lips traveled down the side of your neck, hot and desperate, his breath shaky as he fought to keep himself from slipping completely. His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the lines of your body with such intensity that it felt as though he was memorizing every detail.

“I need to feel you,” he rasped, his voice filled with raw desire. His touch became more urgent, his hands pressing harder against your skin, his lips moving faster, more erratically. The restraint in him was slipping, unraveling with each passing second. His hands found your shoulders, then your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the distance between you any longer.

He let out a low growl, his breath coming fast and ragged now. “I’m losing control,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were wild, dark with unrestrained emotion, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way he trembled against you.

And then, with a sharp inhale, something broke in him.

San’s hands gripped your waist with a sudden fierceness, pulling you tightly against him, his body pressing into yours with a desperate, wild energy. His mouth found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his restraint shattered completely. His hands roamed your body, no longer holding back, no longer gentle. He was wild, untamed, and you were swept up in the force of it, your body responding to his every touch as though you were made for this moment.

He growled against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. "I can't stop," he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with need. His hands gripped you tighter, as if the sensation of your skin beneath his fingers was the only thing keeping him from losing himself completely. "I can't hold back anymore."

And he didn’t.

--

San pushed you to the wall behind you, one hand behind your head to not hit it to the hard material. He leaned in for a kiss, his teeth grazing against your lower lip, biting it from time to time. He made it bleed, going even more insane about the taste of your lips.

"P-please... don't hold back" you said, barely above a whisper. He took your words seriously and put your hands above your head with his right hand, while his left hand took your panties off, threw them away and flew right back to your thighs. His sharp nails dug into your flesh, leaving soft, red marks all over.

"P-please forgive me.. if you get hurt by me." San said and moved his hand between your thighs, impatiently and softly hovering his fingers around, looking in your eyes. He was asking for permission. You moved yourself above his fingers and slowly let yourself down on his then, quietly moaning at his fingers finally inside you. His hands were huge, being a werewolf... even two of his fingers were stretching you the fuck out, tears forming in your eyes.

"San, voice low, almost a growl, "You have no damn idea how hard it's been to hold back, don't you?"

"San.." you breathed out, his fingers pumping in and out of you mercilessly.

San’s eyes flash with wild intensity. In an instant, his lips crash against yours, a rough, hungry kiss that leaves you breathless, tongues finding it's way and tasting every corner of your mouth.

Breaking the kiss, his breath hot against your neck, "You’re driving me insane... every part of me just wants to take you, make you mine in ways you can’t even imagine." He stopped finger-fucking you for a moment, breath hitched and your legs already trembling.

"I want all of you.. need to feel you, taste you.." he breathed out in an almost-primal tone, like you were his prey and you were his to go after.

"San, please.." you pleaded out, back softly arching against the wall, in search of any friction between your cunt and his fingers that were still resting.

"I see that you're... asking for my touch, hm?" San whined, in an almost desperate tone, basically exposing himself through his words. He was the one that wanted, needed you so bad.

"Y-yes.."

In an instant, he raised your leg up, placing it onto his hip. "I’m out of my mind with how much I need you. You'll take me right here—no hesitation, no waiting." he said as he raised your leg a bit, left your hands alone and fully thrusted in you, lubed up from your own arousal. He was fucking you against the wall, your hands reaching for his shoulder, holding on for dear life. Your legs were trembling, his long and girthy cock stretching you good as it always did.

"Fuck.. you feel so good.." he said as he rammed into you wildly, touching every sweet spot of yours, the friction overwhelming you. His lips went wandering around, marking you everywhere. He left kisses and bites all over your neck and collarbones, tasting your sweet flesh.

"Yes babe.. get it all out-" you muffled, but his lips found their way to yours, engaging in a rough, sloppy and messy kiss.

His nails dug into your flesh, his primal-like behavior sending you over the edge. Your back arched against the wall, San's hand finding it's way to the back of your neck. He held you close and still, as he thrusted in you a few times and came undone, filling you up to the brim. As you felt yourself get filled by his load, he fucked you through his high and his hand found it's way to your clit, rubbing circles all around. You squirmed a few times, overstimulation surging over you and the knot in your belly became undone, soft cries and moans leaving out of your slowly rising chest.

"You feel so good.. I don't know how I've waited until now. Every second without you is torture..." he said and embraced you, his cock still inches deep inside you. He lifted you up and dropped you on the dinner table you had in the living room, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist.

His breath was hot against your neck as he whispered, "I can't get enough of you," his lips grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer as if the space between you was unbearable. The table beneath you creaked under the weight of your bodies, the edge pressing into your back as he leaned down, kissing you deeply, hungrily, with an urgency that made your heart race.

Your legs tightened around him, your heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper. He let out a low, guttural sound of pleasure as he thrust into you, slow but deliberate, each movement intensifying the ache inside you. His fingers trailed up your sides, all the way up to your bare skin, fondling with your breasts, holding onto them.

With a wicked smile, he bit his lip, his eyes dark with desire as he watched the way your body responded to him. The rhythm of his hips became more insistent, and the friction between you built with every motion. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling, bodies perfectly in sync.

"I want to hear you," he growled softly, his voice deep and raw with need, his hand slipping between your bodies, teasing the spot that made your whole body tremble. Every touch was electric, every sensation overwhelming, as the pressure inside you built to an irresistible peak. You arched your back, surrendering to the intensity, your nails digging into his shoulders as the room around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the heat of your bodies and the undeniable connection between you.

Time seemed to blur as the world outside faded, leaving only the pulse of your heart, the sound of his ragged breaths, and the undeniable fire between you, burning hotter with every second.

His thrusts grew more urgent, deeper, as if he was chasing the same release that had your body trembling in his arms. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the room, his grunts mixing with your breathless moans, the tension between you building to a breaking point. His fingers worked in perfect rhythm with his hips, pushing you closer, closer, until finally, the pleasure surged through you, crashing like a wave. You cried out his name, your body arching against him, tightening around him as the intensity consumed you.

San groaned low in his throat, the sound almost primal as he felt you pulse around him, the sensation driving him over the edge. His hips bucked one last time, deep and powerful, before you felt him cum inside you, his warmth filling you as he let out a broken moan, collapsing against you. His breath was heavy in your ear, his heartbeat racing against your chest as the two of you remained locked together, still trembling from the intensity of it all.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the soft sound of your shared breathing. His arms wrapped around you tightly, protectively, as if he couldn’t bear to let go just yet. Gently, he shifted, pulling you into his chest, his lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. His touch was tender now, his rough urgency replaced by a deep care, a need to hold you close.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice softer now, full of concern as his fingers brushed through your hair, soothing you.

You nodded, still catching your breath, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you, grounding you. His hands stroked your back in lazy, comforting circles, his lips never far from your skin. He held you as if you were fragile, like he wanted to protect you from everything, even though minutes ago, the world had disappeared in the heat between you.

San slowly pulled out of you, the absence leaving you feeling both empty and completely fulfilled, as he carefully helped you sit up on the edge of the table. He kissed your lips, slow and sweet, as if he had all the time in the world. Then, without saying a word, he scooped you up into his arms and carried you over to the couch, laying you down gently before settling next to you.

He tugged a soft blanket over your bodies, wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"I love you," he whispered softly, his voice barely audible, but the emotion behind it was overwhelming. He kissed your temple, holding you tighter as you both drifted into a peaceful silence, your bodies still entwined, but now surrounded by a warmth that was so much more than just physical.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium @peachy-bell26

[yanderes-galore]

... I caved, okay? It's just... I'm a sucker for cute animals and horror... I had to write for the hound whom I pity so much. Obviously this is an AU. I mention the normal monster form but I also mention the cartoon form... yet I made an AU where Smiling Critters can swap between a smaller plush/cartoon form to their Bigger Bodies Initiative form. Why? Why not.

Maybe I'll do Catnap, I haven't decided, been a bit since I've done a fic that's not a request. This is pure brainrot and written at 1-2 AM. Expect mistakes. I just had to get the idea down.

Keep in mind as I write this I realized that you might as well just make this a separate AU from canon. These are still experiments but CatNap is probably not... Theo. Idk, letting 2 AM creativity flow created an AU for the cute stuffed animals so... enjoy?

☀️Yandere DogDay Concept☀️

🐶(My Version)🐶

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Fear of abandonment, CatNap has hurt DogDay in the past, Gore implied, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Blood mention, Forced companionship.

Ah yes, DogDay, the leader of the Smiling Critters.

How I plan to write the Smiling Critters is this...

Each critter has a plush/cartoon form they can wander in.

They are small, maybe going up to about the waist of an adult.

But all critters also have a Bigger Bodies form/monster form.

Which is the form we can see DogDay and CatNap take in chases within Poppy Playtime.

(For those who know my blog you'll notice similarities to my FNAF Fluffy/Stuffy AU and my BATIM Bendy fics)

There's many ways you could meet the orange dog.

But for now... I just want to discuss how I'd write DogDay to get the ideas down.

In his smaller cartoon form he is like a living plushy to you.

He fits snuggly in your arms, a bright smile on his face with a sun collar dangling from his neck.

When you hug him you smell the calming scent of vanilla... a scent that seems to calm your worries with ease.

DogDay would act like a best friend to you.

The dog plush would follow you around, acting like a way to ease your anxiety.

If you were ever anxious or scared... DogDay crawls in your lap with a wagging tail.

His smell and soft fur puts you at ease....

In fact, describing him like this makes him seem like some sort of "service dog" (service plush?).

DogDay is technically still a living being in this form.

He still has blood despite being a living toy.

Which makes him warm to the touch when you hold him.

The smaller form of DogDay is obviously a loyal companion, very similar to a real dog.

Then there's his bigger version... he takes on a more monstrous form but even then still seems to be friendly.

He has a deeper voice and often calls you his "Angel" or "Best Friend".

In this form he still is very attentive to the needs of his new friend.

Especially if he's been left alone for way too long.

Even more so if CatNap decided to torment him like in canon.

In his bigger form he is more capable of scooping you up.

I imagine he still retains his vanilla scent?

In his monster form he probably still has it... but it's mixed with a musky scent.

Imagine if DogDay was left all alone in Playcare like in canon.

All of his friends are gone... CatNap has gone insane... in fact he may even have injuries by CatNap.

But then you show up and pick up the wounded plush.

You hold him close... he feels your warmth...

He gets attached...

Now you have a clingy dog plush following you everywhere.

DogDay is not the violent type.

However, he would do anything to protect you.

He's overprotective, especially if he has been abandoned.

He fears the idea of losing you which leads to him clinging to you.

You may be scared... you may not even like his monster form... but he's still your best friend, Angel!

You may try to run from him once you see his "true" form.

Yet he prevents it... grabbing you tightly and pressing you into his chest.

No matter his form... he still has that vanilla scent.

A scent that makes you relax... one that makes you go limp...

DogDay means no harm.

After all, CatNap could just gas you and force the affection out of you.

DogDay, even if he is in poor condition due to CatNap (legs or not), wants to be your guide.

He often swaps to plush form and monster form.

If he notices you're anxious he does whatever he can to prevent it.

DogDay would always be by your side.

He doesn't care if CatNap tears off his legs... or if blood and dirt stains his orange fur...

He wants to make you smile.

The monster form is most certainly used to either protect you or keep you beside DogDay.

For the most part he prefers to be in plush form with you.

He hates scaring you.

He definitely is receptive to pets like a dog... his tail wagging wildly when you stroke his fur.

DogDay is overly clingy and easily excited.

I wouldn't doubt it if you tossed something and said Fetch, he'd give chase.

He isn't too bad of a yandere.

He's clingy due to a fear of abandonment and overprotective... but surely that's understandable, right?

He just fears the idea of you seeing him feast on other toys...

He feels a hunger deep inside him but doesn't give in.

But if anyone attacked you... he may be unable to help himself.

If DogDay ever accidentally scared you he is quick to apologize and tries to appeal to you.

Blood? Around his mouth and on his paws? No... no things are okay!

See? See? He's just a cute plush dog!

Don't leave him.

PLEASE DON'T LEAVE HIM...!

If you ever tried to abandon the living toy, he won't allow it.

He'll swap to monster form and scoop you into his furry body.

Your nose is assaulted by the smell of musk... dirt... blood...

Vanilla.

It's always that dreaded smell that haunts you... a smell that should be so calming...

Vanilla.

DogDay would hold you close to him... even if you think of him as a monster.

You should see him as a friend... he'd never hurt you!

He'd desperately try to calm you down with his scent and furry hold.

He's covered in blood... but he isn't heartless, is he!?

He's protecting you...

He's helping you...

He's caring for you...

He's yours... and you're his!

You can't abandon him, Angel...

In his eyes, you're his best friend!

Even as you struggle against him he pulls you tighter against him....

It's his job to soothe your anxiety... just breathe in his vanilla scent and relax into his fur...

He can't bear to let go of his new Best Friend...

He can't bear to see his Angel go....

[wonderlandwalker]

He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known

Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika

He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 

He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.

Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 

He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 

It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 

And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.

“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 

“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 

“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.

And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 

Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 

The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 

And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.

After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.

“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”

The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 

He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 

He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 

He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.

But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.

Part 2: Should've Known

[inthe-dark-tonight]

what she wants, anywhere

frankie morales x f!reader

summary: trying to hide the fact that you're horny from frankie while on an international flight leads to unexpectedly joining the mile high club

word count: 4.4k

warnings: E (18+ mdni!!!) dubcon, smut, porn w very little plot, pet names, established relationship, unsafe p in v, airplane sex, slight breeding kink (special just for cami hehe) creampie, reader uses frankie's hand to try and get off, no mention of age gap so read how you’d like :)

notes: this idea has been in my head for a few months but I never really knew how i wanted to write it, then an unreleased harry styles song came on shuffle (complicated freak - iykyk) and that just kinda fed the brainrot even more and…. now here we are. i'm also very aware that this is pretty unrealistic but it's fic so!! also let's pretend that airplane bathrooms aren't super gross i'm sorry. thank you to the loml @javiscigarette for always beta reading and listening to my insane rambling, i don’t know what i would do without you and our single shared braincell ILYSM xo

i also hit a new follower milestone this past week so i just want to say an extra big thank you to everyone that reads, likes, comments, reblogs or follows 🤍 enjoy!! :)

You and Frankie have had this trip planned for almost 6 months now, the two of you needing a vacation from work and day to day life. Now the only thing standing between the two of you and a week long vacation in Italy is an eight and a half hour flight. 

From the second you got to the airport you were on edge, worried about your bags, your tickets, your passports, if you had forgotten anything in your carry on, up until you got to security when you finally calmed down. When you got up to the belt, Frankie grabbed a few plastic bins throwing both of your carry ons into one as you removed your jacket and shoes. As you stuffed everything into your bin, you glanced over at him, watching him intently as he started to take his jacket off. 

You watched the way his biceps flexed as he slipped his jacket off of his broad shoulders and tossed it into the bin. Next he removed his hat, running his calloused fingers through his tousled curls, pushing them back before preparing to remove his belt. At that point you were noticeably gawking at him, watching the way his thick fingers unfastened his belt buckle before rapidly pulling it out the belt loops of his jeans and tossing it into the bin as well.

He looked over at you, giving you a quick once over before asking, “That everything?”

You weren’t able to conjure up any words, just a quick mhm and a nod of your head as you two moved forward. When he stepped into the metal detector, your eyes were glued to him the whole time. As he lifted his hands above his head, his shirt lifted the slightest bit, causing a small sliver of his soft tummy to peek out. A warmth started to build deep in your core from that moment forward. 

Once the two of you were through security, he slipped his belt back on followed by his jacket. You swiped his hat before he could grab it, quickly stuffing it into your carry on. 

He laughed, head tilting to the side as the dimple on his cheek deepened. “C’mon” he shot you a look. “Give it.” He held his large hand out towards you. 

“We’re inside now, don’t need it.” You smiled at him sweetly, a warmth blooming in your chest as his eyes met yours. 

He grunted, grabbing your bags with a small smile still plastered on his face before turning to walk towards your gate. Your eyes are glued to him as you walk, keeping a few steps behind him. 

By the time you finally sit down at your gate, the heat in your lower stomach has grown even more and Frankie is painfully unaware of the way you’re watching him, desire growing each second. The terminal was crowded and there weren’t many seats, so you sat across from him a bit upset at the distance while also enjoying the view of your man.

You sit across from him with a book in your hand, legs crossed as you peeked up over the top of your book every now and then to admire him. He was leaning back in the chair, one arm on the armrest and the other casually resting between his legs, right where you want him most. His legs were spread wide, hair perfectly tousled, one leg bouncing from nerves and brows furrowed as he focused on something on his phone. How could you possibly not stare? 

He caught you once, eyes lingering on him a little too long, causing heat to rise from for chest up to your cheeks. Your eyes roamed up his body, checking him out, before locking with his own as he shifted in his seat. 

Hm? He raised his brows, a smirk growing on his face. 

You quickly shook your head, looking back down at your book as a shy smile formed on your face. 

Boarding the plane went by quickly. You stood close to him as you waited for your group to be called and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The comforting feeling of his warm body pressed against yours worked you up even more, if that was even possible, and Frankie held your hand the whole time during take off.  

Now you're seated on the plane, his thigh resting against yours, fighting the urge to keep your hands off of him and satisfy the throbbing need in your core. He’s surely noticed the way you’ve been squirming in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs a million times and the not so subtle staring. 

You turn on the screen in front of you, switching to the live map and checking the time on the screen. It’s only been 45 minutes, this is going to be impossible. You clear your throat and let out a deep sigh as you look out the window at the dark sky, only a small peek of blue light shining over the horizon now. 

“What’s wrong?” Frankie’s soft voice in your ear startles you slightly as you turn to see him leaning in close to you. “You nervous?” He moves his hand to rest on your thigh. 

You swallow before answering. “No.” You blurt out causing him to raise his brow in curiosity. “I mean, it’s not that.” Your eyes land on his lips after the last word leaves your mouth. 

“Then what is it?” He rubs your thigh lightly and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

He sounds concerned, but there’s no way you’re telling him that you’re horny with 7 hours left of this flight. All you can do is hope that as the time passes  the ache in your core dulls, or better yet goes away. 

“Just-“ you try to think of an excuse on the spot. “Excited actually.” You smile up at him and he returns it, the dimple on his cheek growing. 

“We’ll be there soon baby, the flight will be over before you know it.” He lifts his hand from your thigh and rests it on your cheek, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb before pecking your lips. 

You nod in agreement, closing your eyes as you toss your head back and lean into your seat. If he only knew.

You’ve been looking out the window for who knows how long, the lights in the cabin are low, almost completely off now, and the flight attendants haven’t walked up the aisles in almost half an hour. You look at the time on your phone again, only two hours in, how is that possible? The ache in your core hasn’t subsided.  

You look over at Frankie watching a movie on the screen in front of him, Top Gun, before reaching for your carry-on bag under the seat in front of you. You grab the sweater you stuffed into it and throw it across your lap. 

“Cold?” Frankie’s voice is soft yet gravely as he leans in close to you, whispering for just the two of you to hear. 

You look at him, eyes slightly widening. “Yeah.” You aren’t lying, the cabin is chilly, but that’s only half of the truth. 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in your features in the low light. You scoot closer to him, leaning into his side as you get comfortable. Frankie smiles and plants a kiss on your temple before turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. You lay your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his bicep as you watch the movie with him. 

It’s not long before you’re distracted again, letting go of your grip on his arm and laying back in your seat. Your eyes linger on the way his pants hug his thighs. He’s not wearing his jacket anymore, the way he’s sitting with his arms crossed give you a  full view of his strong forearms and biceps.

You’re not sure how much longer you can ignore the heat pooling in your stomach. You decide to test something and reach your right hand over to rub the side of his thigh, resting there for a moment. He doesn’t move, eyes still on the screen, and you take that as a sign to keep going. You slowly inch closer towards where his cock is confined in his pants, resting your hand on the inside of his thigh and keeping it there for a few moments. He doesn’t react, but you hear his breathing picking up. 

As you start to rub small circles on the inside of his thigh and inch ever so slightly closer to where his member is hidden, he grabs your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers. 

His large hand is still wrapped around your wrist as you lean in, resting your chin on his shoulder as you look up at him. “Nothing.” That’s a lie, and he knows it.

“Querida...” His eyes burn through you as he stares back at you. He knows. 

You clear your throat and tilt your head up to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been worked up since we went through security.”  

“Hm.” He nods his head, the deep vibration causes goosebumps to raise on your skin.

You pull back and he looks into your eyes again. His hand finds yours on your lap, warm as it wraps around yours and squeezes lightly. 

“Once we land and get to the hotel, promise.” He raises his hand to rest on your cheek and plants a feather light kiss on your lips. 

You let out a small sigh as his hand moves from yours to rest on his lap and you turn to look out the window, trying to distract yourself from the pool of heat that burns in the pit of your stomach.

You’re not sure how much time has passed now, when you look over at Frankie his eyes are shut, mouth slightly parted as you admire his features. A small smile forms in your face as your eyes roam over him, landing on his hand still resting on his lap. 

At that exact moment, an idea comes to your mind. Something that could possibly give you a small amount of relief. For now. It’s not your best idea, but it could work. 

You look back up at his face as you reach over to rest your hand over his, he doesn’t open his eyes. You stay still for a moment, making sure you won’t wake him from the movement. When you think the time is right, you lift his hand, quickly resting it on your lap. Your eyes land on where his hand now lays over your sweater on your lap, so close to the dull thrumming at your core. You bite your lip and look back over to be sure he hasn’t woken up, you smile at the way his soft lashes rest on the tops of his cheeks as he rests, a warmth spreading through your chest. 

You keep your eyes on him as you slowly move his hand underneath where your sweater lays to rest on your inner thigh. His warm hand burns straight through the fabric of your pants, causing your skin to heat up from the touch, and your stomach to churn. He still hasn’t opened his eyes, so you take that as a safe sign to keep going, slowly moving his hand up your thigh until it rests over your clothed heat. 

A low whimper escapes your throat and your eyes widen at the realization, looking back over at where Frankie lays with his eyes shut. You watch him take a deep breath, letting out a sigh as he shifts slightly in his seat, head rolling slightly to the side as he stirs. You stay still for a few seconds, making sure he hasn’t woken from your movements. 

You look away from him, back to where his hand is touching you under your sweater, and you begin to press the heel of his hand into your clothed cunt. You let out a long, relieved breath from your nose and your eyes fall shut. The pressure of his large warm hand resting over your sensitive nub is just enough to give you some of the relief you were looking for, but it’s not enough. 

You take a deep breath before grinding yourself against the palm of his hand in a slow rocking motion that causes the seam of your pants to rub over your clit. Trying your best to be quiet, you bite into your cheek as your hips buck forward. A low groan escapes your throat and you let out a shaky breath. 

You're lost in the moment, relishing in the feeling of his large, warm hand resting over your clothed sex as you grind into it. Suddenly you feel him move and your heart leaps into your throat. His arm tenses up, hand grabbing at your clothed cunt as he applies more pressure than before. Your eyes fly open wide and you turn to look into his own. Heavy lidded as a small smirk forms on his face in the dim lighting, he leans in closer to you. 

“Bathroom at the back of the plane. I’ll be there in five.” He says slowly, just above a whisper. 

You blink, mouth agape as his words sink in. “W-what?” You watch the way his chest rapidly rises and falls as you wait for his response. 

“Now.” He presses harder into your clothed core before pulling his hand away.

You let out a gasp, reaching for your seat buckle as fast as you can before standing up. As you squeeze past him and make your way into the aisle, you take a quick glance around to look for the flight attendants. They're nowhere to be found, and as you walk towards the back of the plane you notice that almost everyone on the plane is asleep, has their nose in a book or eyes glued to something on the screen in front of them. You try not to walk too quickly as you make your way towards the back of the plane where the vacancy sign is glowing brightly. 

Your heart is racing and you feel giddy as you approach the door, pulling it open and stepping inside before closing it behind you. As you wait in the small stall for Frankie, you stand there for a moment with your back against the door, eyes falling shut as you take a deep breath in anticipation for what may happen next. Then you hear a light knocking on the door, causing you to flinch as you reach to pull the door open. 

Without giving you a second to think, Frankie pushes the door open causing you to step back, closing the door behind him and locking it before guiding you towards the sink. It's a tight fit with the two of you in there but right now you could care less. He presses close to you, causing your lower back to press into the small plastic sink as his hand flies down to grab you where you're wet and aching for him, the other grabbing your wrist. 

He leans in, nose grazing your cheek before speaking low in your ear. “This what you wanted?” His voice sends a shock straight to your core as he applies more pressure where he's caressing your clothed core, causing a moan to slip from your mouth.

“Frankie,” you say breathlessly. 

“Shhh.” his hand leaves your wrist to lightly cover your mouth. “Gotta be quiet for me baby, don’t want anyone to catch us committing a fucking felony now do we?” A small smirk covers his lips and your chest flutters with excitement at his words.

You look up at him with wide eyes and shake your head, then he removes his hand from your mouth and plants a needy kiss to your lips. Your eyes close and you melt into it, hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue parts your lips to tangle with your own. You press against him, slightly bucking your hips to feel the growing bulge in his pants. He groans before breaking the kiss, pulling away to catch his breath as his eyes roam over you. His large hands grab at your waist as he looks back into your eyes.

“Turn around.” you do as he says, turning your back to him and pressing your hips flush against the tiny sink while your hands grab onto the edge bracing yourself. 

Frankie’s large hands land back on your hips, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans to rest on your ass for a moment, squeezing lightly before moving back to your hips. he presses his hardening cock into your ass and lets out a low grunt as your eyes flutter shut, your head falling forward as you sigh.

His hands leave your hips and you hear the sound of his belt buckle. “Gotta make this quick.”  his voice is low and gruff, you lift your head to look at him through the mirror in front of you.

You watch him as he looks down between the two of you to unbutton his own jeans, stray curls falling onto his forehead. His muscles flex, the fabric of his shirt stretching as he pulls his jeans down just enough for his cock to spring out. His head snaps back up, dark eyes meeting yours in the mirror. His hands snake around to the front of you, reaching for the button on your pants, his thick fingers moving quickly to undo it before pulling at your zipper. 

His eyes never leave yours as he tugs your pants down just enough to expose the soft skin of your ass along with your soaked heat. Your mouth falls open as his hand moves towards your core and you stifle a moan as his fingers start to glide through your slick folds, his other hand resting back on your hip.

“Been thinking about me filling you up this whole time, huh?” You take in a deep breath, pressing your lips together as you try to hold in a moan. “Thinking about me filling you to the fucking brim with my cum?” 

You frantically nod your head, unable to form a single word. Frankie watches you through the mirror as your head falls back onto his shoulder and you press yourself back into him. A small gasp leaves your mouth as you feel his stiff cock press against your bare ass. He starts to rub small, slow circles on your clit and you raise your head to look at him through the mirror again. Your eyes immediately meet with his having never left you, and you watch him as he leans in closer to you.

“Wish there was time for me to taste this perfect pussy.” His nose grazes the side of your cheek, his low voice vibrating through your whole body. 

You bite your lip trying to keep quiet, squeezing your eyes shut as he applies more pressure to your swollen clit. You also wish there was time. He plants a kiss on your neck, scruff slightly scratching you as his warm lips press against your skin. It’s like he read your mind.

“Once we get to the hotel, I promise.” He lightly squeezes your hip, pulling his other hand away from your sensitive nub causing you to hold your breath. “Bend over for me baby.” 

You do as he says, bracing yourself on the sink once again as you slightly lean forward. One of his hands stays on your hip, the other lines his cock up with your soaking wet entrance. Your eyes are still glued to him in the mirror, your beautiful man. He’s focused as you watch him, and when you feel his tip slowly start to press in, you watch the way his face relaxes. You close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of him slowly filling you to the brim.  

“Fuck.” You watch as his head falls back, a blissful look on his face. “Feel so good cariño.” 

He stays still for a moment, taking in the feeling of your wet cunt pulsing around him. You’re not sure how long you’ve been in here, but you know that the two of you should hurry up before someone notices what’s going on. You wiggle your ass back and forth against Frankie to try and get his attention as you bite your bottom lip while looking up at him through the mirror. 

He lifts his head up, dark eyes meeting with yours. A deep almost growl comes from deep in his chest as he pulls out and slams his cock back into you. Your body jolts forward, mouth falling open as you brace yourself for his brutal pace. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you bringing you so close to the release you’ve been waiting for. 

You watch him in the mirror, transfixed on the way his biceps strain the fabric of his shirt as he holds onto your waist for dear life. The feeling of his cock splitting you open so perfect. He leans down and wraps an arm around your torso, pulling you to stand straight up with your back against him as he continues to fuck you at the same brutal pace. 

His hand roams over your body and his eyes follow, finding the hem of your shirt as he slips his large hand beneath it. You press further back into him, a sigh leaving your mouth at the feeling of his warm skin against yours. 

“Francisco…” You murmur. 

His hand continues to travel up your body, leaving goosebumps in its trail up towards your breasts. You suck in a breath as his hand finds the cup of your bra, slipping underneath to caress the soft skin of your breast. He’s still staring at you in the mirror, tracing over your soft skin and curves with his eyes as he moves his hand to lift your shirt up to your chin. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers right beside your ear. “Look at you.” 

You’re just looking at him, the way his large hand is splayed over your chest, the light flush on his cheeks from being cramped in this stuffy bathroom, and the way his hair has fallen over his forehead. The coil in your stomach is ready to snap, any second now as he slows down his thrusts. He can feel it, the way your walls flutter around his thick cock. His hand slides back down your chest, stopping to rest on your stomach as he holds you against him.

“Come for me, come on baby.” His deep voice travels straight through you to your core. 

“Oh my-” Frankie’s hand flys up to cover your mouth before you can finish. 

“Shhh, quiet.” The vibration of his deep voice whispering in your ear sends you over the edge and a white hot feeling spreads through your body, radiating from your core as your orgasm takes over. 

“There you go.” He whispers, nose grazing your cheek as he speaks. 

Your hand reaches behind you to pull at the curls on the nape of his neck and you squeeze around him as your orgasm comes to an end. He lets out a deep moan as he buries his face into your neck, muffling the sound. He thrust one last time, stopping when he bottoms out, hot cum spurting out and filling you up. His shoulders rise and fall as he catches his breath, head still buried in your shoulder and your head lays back on his. Both of his arms are wrapped around your torso and you rest yours over his, squeezing his forearms lightly as he stays there for a moment longer, making sure all of his seed stays put. 

He kisses your neck before lifting his head up and looking between the two of you as he pulls out, pulling your underwear back on quickly to make sure his come stays put. His hands rest on your hips as you fix your shirt. You slide your pants back on and spin around to face him as he buttons his pants, watching the way his fingers move. A smile forms on your face as you watch him, a warmth growing in your chest. 

“Hm?” He looks up at you through his lashes as he fixes his belt.

You shake your head, reaching to rest your hands on his shoulders as you kiss him. He sucks in a deep breath, making a content sound as he kisses you back and wraps his arms tightly around you. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes roam your features before speaking. 

“We should go back.” One of his hands comes up to caress your cheek and he pecks your lips one last time. 

“You go first.” You lean into his touch, squeezing his broad shoulders. 

His thumb rubs your cheek before pulling away and turning to pull the door open. He slips out, quietly closing the door behind him. Once he’s gone you turn towards the mirror to fix yourself up and wash your hands before going back to your seat. You replay what just happened in your mind as you wait a few minutes to leave. 

Once you think it’s safe to leave, you slip back out into the dark cabin. You glance around, still no flight attendants in sight as you make your way back to the aisle where Frankie is sitting and waiting for you. A smirk forms on his face as you squeeze in front of him to take your seat at the window. You get comfortable, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand finds a spot on your lap and you close your eyes. As you start to drift off you feel Frankie shift in his seat. 

“Don’t think I forgot about my promise either.” He whispers for just you to hear. 

Your chest flutters, a quiet laugh leaves your mouth before you drift to sleep. Only 5 more hours, you’re almost sure you can wait this time.

thank you for reading <3 any feedback is appreciated and my asks are open!! xo

tagging a few moots: @ilovepedro @gracieheartsspedro @sapphic-gardn @northernbluess @tieronecrush @joelsversion @pr0ximamidnight @daydreamingmiller @hearteyesforjoel <3

[lucrativesoul]

The Assistant

summary: you have been promoted within the police headquarters, and your new position is the assistant of none other than Leon S. Kennedy. the ever alluring man has you weak in the knees.

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 9.9k

warnings: smut, boss x employee, very brief mention of smoking, very vague drug mention.

a/n: yay i'm posting it :3 using this photo cause i couldn't stop thinking of noir leon while writing this (brainrot) i didn't originally intend for this to be so long but here we are... this was different than what i'm used to writing but it was so much fun! already in the process of a second fic! enjoy yall

“So… I’m not fired?” 

Standing in front of your boss’ desk, you were genuinely surprised by the words out of her mouth. For some reason, for the last few weeks, you had a hunch that you were about to get sacked. The office had been slowly getting emptied out, of boxes full of documents, of equipment, hell, even of people, and you were positive you were next. 

She had just called out into her office, a mere twenty steps away from your desk where you worked, or used to work, now, in the dingy yellow room with foggy windows and no working AC. You took a deep breath, thinking this was it, getting ready to add this to the list of ‘Previous Employment’ on your resume, when all she had simply told you was that you were going upstairs.

She laughed curtly. “No, you aren’t. They need you upstairs. You’ll be better off up there.”

You slowly nodded your head, trying to keep most of the confusion off of your face. “So, sorry to ask, but, what about down here?”

You had been here for just shy of a year at this point, and they placed you in one of the ground floor offices of the five story buildings sorting out random court documents, for whatever reason, they were always needed for something incomprehensible. You didn’t question it, you just did it, because you got paid to. Yes, the fluorescents gave you occasional migraines and stepping into the fresh air at the end of the day made you feel reborn, but it was just busy work, and there were much worse jobs to do.

“They’re cleaning us out. We’re all still here, just… relocated.” You nodded, at least relieved to know that your old deskmates weren’t ruthlessly fired. She handed a manila folder over to you, and when you flipped it open, there was only one piece of paper inside. You’ve learned to not be surprised by confusing things such as this. “Mr. Anderson of the top floor has recently been relieved of his position.” Ouch, you thought. Poor soul. “His position had been freed and with no new applicants, they were looking inward. I appreciate your work here and your employment history shows some experience in the assistance department, so I suggested you as a candidate. They want you up there.” 

Your stomach sank, and your best friend’s voice rang out through your head. “You can’t lie about past employment, idiot! They can check!” Well, you held back a sigh, they definitely didn’t check.

“Wow, I… Thank you. But, sorry. That I’m leaving.”

She merely shook her head. “Still here. This office will be gone soon enough. Between us, I’ve been praying for this day.” With that, she dismissed you, and after swiping the few personal items off your desk and into your bag, you headed home.

This single paper had stumped you all night. You sat at your table after eating (barely, you were too nervous about starting a basically new job the next day), and decided to review the content of it before retiring for the night. It was quite simple: it listed the job description, ‘Executive Assistant’, it listed the location, ‘5F, 505’, and your new boss’ name, ‘Leon S. Kennedy, Exec. Agent’.

You had honestly not heard this name before. You should know everyone who works there, considering the nature of the police headquarters, but you were often forgotten down in the basement, no one too important worked down there, besides your boss, or old boss now, who had connections to all other departments. Everyone got there before you and left after you. Could be at the same time, but you often tuned it out, needing the sweet release of your home. You wondered why she volunteered you up for this. Maybe she was sympathetic about the setting you had to work in for someone your age.

You went to bed after deciding there was no hidden detail in the few lines of script on the sheet. You would just have to wait and see.

Figuring the gray dress pants and white, long sleeve mock neck that you threw on this morning were good enough, you left the house early enough to prepare by buying a coffee. Being stuffed into the basement had its perks, eventually everyone had caught on to the idea that they just needed you guys down there to do what they didn’t want upstairs, and you and your coworkers had found the thin cracks in which you could push the dress code a little. No, leggings weren’t permitted, but they were on the days your slacks were dirty and when you put a dress shirt and sweater on over it. You were sure your boss noticed, but said nothing anyway. Clearly, it didn't put a dent in what she thought of you.

You had to at least try today though, as you had no idea what it would be like to work on the top floor. You had no idea what kind of a person Agent Kennedy was, and you weren’t going to chance anything on the first day. You had played it safe when you first started here and it paid off, so fingers crossed it could pay off again.

After a few deep breaths, you popped the door open and headed into the building. Usually, you could park in the back and take the lower level entrance, which was essentially the one and only way into the basement that wasn’t from the service elevator, but you went in through the front today. You ignored the tightening of your stomach and climbed the stairs. 

“Can I help you?” A man stood from the front desk at your arrival. You started reaching for the ID card you carried on a lanyard, stuffed into your pocket.

“Yes, I work here.” He reached out for your ID, not believing your truth.

He raised an eyebrow. “The basement entrance is in the back of the building.” He handed it back and went to sit down.

“Yes, I know, I was moved. I’m going upstairs.” You handed him the manila folder before he could ignore you further. He raised an eyebrow again after looking at the small paper.

“Alright, Anderson’s replacement. Fifth floor, to the right.” He motioned to his left to the elevator, and only then did you let him sit back down. 

You took the walk to the elevator as a chance to survey the room. You hadn’t been over here very often. You made a few trips up here a few months ago, but you didn’t look around much, only headed to the confidential files room to move information. The floor was a sleek black tile, shiny as ever, and the room was lit well due to the large windows at the front of the building. It didn't look like a headquarters building. You told yourself it wasn’t to calm your nerves.

Swallowing the last of the anxiety, you stepped out onto the fifth floor. It was simply a hallway, all black, but the windows at the end made the space seem larger, and not so dark. To the right, you remember the man telling you. Your footsteps were reverberating off of the walls, matched with the pounding of your blood flow in your ears.

The corridor opened up to a wider room, inhabited by a handful of other people. One of them spotted your arrival, and walked over.

“Good morning, I’m–”

“Yes, right over here. Glad to see you.” You were taken aback for a moment, They already know me? You thought, as you followed the young man to a large desk on the left side of the wall, facing inward to the foyer. You were sitting in front of floor to ceiling windows, across the room was the same setup with a few smaller desks, people scuttling back and forth on their own side. You turned back to thank the man, when your heart fluttered in relief.

“Thank you,-- Oh, my gosh, Brett, you work up here now?” Brett was an old deskmate that had left the small office three months ago. You didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but the last day that you saw him you remember eating lunch on his desk with another coworker who sat in front of you two. You were saddened by his loss, but now absolutely relieved to have a familiar face.

“I know, right? They said you were coming. I’m glad you got out next. It’s better up here.” He let you put your stuff down and get settled, before telling you what your next moves should be. “He’s in a meeting right now, but he wanted to meet you once you got here. Don’t be nervous, but brace yourself. He’s serious. Mostly. I’ve seen him smile once, but he’s nice to the rest of us. Hopefully more to you.”

After a few more minutes of small talk, he left you on your own, and you passed the time getting used to the surroundings while waiting for your new boss to be out of his meeting. Early for a meeting, you thought, but then again, it didn’t take a whole team for one person to make a conference call. 

There was a momentary beep sound that came from Brett’s desk, and he picked up the phone. He said one thing into it before hanging up. He turned to you. “He’s ready.”

The nerves came back, but at the comforting thought that there was at least one person you knew out here, you tried your best to look forward to just sitting back down at your desk.

You were about to knock, but figured otherwise since he had directly asked for your presence. You walked up to the large double doors, and pulled them open.

His back was to you when you closed the door behind you. Walking closer, you stopped a few paces away, observing him for a brief second. He had a white dress shirt on and a gray vest. He looked quite large from where you stood, and you were sure that he was at least 6 feet tall, probably taller. He was messing with some papers on his desk, and you took a quick breath before speaking.

“Good morning, sir.” You stood tall, shoulders back, hands clasped behind yourself. Don’t cross your arms in front of you, you recall trying to retrain your habits, you look insecure. He turned around.

You swallowed hard. Jesus Christ, there were no tips on that blog on what to do when your boss is straight out of People Magazine’s sexiest men alive. His ash blonde hair was pushed back off of his forehead, showcasing his sturdy bone structure, a deep, furrowed brow that lacked any wrinkles, and high cheekbones with a sharp jawline. Straight nose, strong chin, and shoulders the size of, well, you. Maintaining eye contact was a challenge. 

You saw him give you a quick once over, all the way down and back up your body again, so brief like it never happened at all. You were itching to pull your arms back in front of yourself.

“Good morning.” He took one step closer to you, held out his hand, and you gingerly took it. His hand was rough, yet the handshake was gentle. “Agent Leon Kennedy.” He lowered his hand and put it in his pocket. His other hand was holding a file. “I hope once you are comfortable here we will work well together.”

You gave a tight smile, forcing your face to make it look natural. You were sure it didn’t. “I look forward to working with you.” Your voice was a lot breathier than intended. 

The corner of his mouth twitched in a hidden smirk. Leon could definitely tell you were nervous. It was a big part of his job, after all. He handed the file over to you. “Just run these for a while. Find me when you finish them.” You took the folder. He stood there momentarily, watching you. “You can relax a little. I’m not going to kill you.” He stalked back over to his desk and sat down, attention still on you. 

You mumbled while flipping through the file. Attempting to lighten the mood, “I would, but smoking is not allowed in the building.”

“That will kill you, you know.” His voice was light. He took the joke well.

You closed it and looked back up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Would you prefer if I drank myself stupid, then?” He said nothing, and just smiled at you. Yours grew wider. “I’ll see you soon with this, sir.” You turned and left.

The day passed with ease. It was no difficult task to focus, now that the nerves were buried and you knew what it was that you had to be doing. Lunch with the others came and went, and it took you a fair chunk of your day to run the files he handed over. It was similar to what they had you doing in the basement, but the addition of sunlight unobstructed by dirty windows made it seem like a fun job.

You had attempted humor with Leon within the first few minutes of meeting him. You probably shouldn’t have, but no one in your life could force you to give up making jokes in serious situations. That’s just how you operated. Leon didn’t seem to care. He actually smiled. Brett had told you he rarely does that, and you made him after only a minute. It honestly had your heart racing all day.

With only an hour left in the day, you packed up the papers Leon had given you along with some new printed ones. You knocked on the door this time, and opened it when he beckoned you in.

“Sorry it took me so long. Little more labor intensive than I’m used to.” He took the file you were handing over, and put it on his desk without looking inside. He was sitting turned toward the computer on his desk, and though he told you to come in, you hoped you weren’t interrupting anything. 

“Thank you. No more of that librarian sorting you were all doing down there.” So, he knows. It was no secret you were sure, but you were still surprised that he knew you worked in the building at all. Leon turned his attention back to his desk for a moment, and you stood there, head tilted slightly to view what he was looking at. He turned back to you, and your head snapped up to make eye contact. “I have nothing else for you right now. Boring day for you to start. You can go home. Tomorrow, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have you review some portfolios and slides I have, so you can become familiar with the content. I have some meetings coming up later in the week, or next, there's a good chance you’ll be coming with me.” he swiveled himself around and grabbed a stack of papers sitting on top of a file cabinet, held together with a paperclip. “Just put this on your desk for now, for the morning.” It was something along the lines of criminal justice and related business strategies. This would be a doozy.

“Of course, sir. As you wish.” You took a step back to leave. “Thanks for the early day.” You sent a halfhearted smile his way. He didn’t reflect it, but his eyes were soft.

After a few seconds of holding your stare, he said, “Already better than Anderson. I like you.”

Your stomach tightened, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally. “I hope I can continue to please, then.” You felt his stare hot on your back as you left, but you remained composed. Once, and only once, the doors were shut, you shakily exhaled, and quickly packed up to leave.

The week went by with a pace you were never used to with your job. You found yourself excited to come to work, excited to see Leon. If you had known you worked in the same building this whole time, you would have been begging your old boss to get moved.

It was a rather tame week, and you weren't sure if it was because there was no work, or this is just what the workload was always like here. It was now Friday, you sat at your desk going through a database page for the assignment you had to review before the meeting Leon had said you were attending. It definitely made you nervous, this was past your parameters and you hadn’t had any sort of experience with something this serious. At least, that’s what you thought it would be. You needed to be prepared for that so you didn’t look incompetent for this job that you only just got. 

Resting your chin on your hand with the other slowly scrolling through the page with the mouse, you cocked your head and looked up when Leon suddenly appeared in front of you. You shot a smile at him.

“Were you in a meeting?” He stood so tall from this angle with you sitting down, and your neck almost hurt looking up at him. 

“Yeah, light work though.” He held onto a file with his left hand. The right was in his pocket. He turned briefly to look behind him at the others who worked in the small lobby. “So, about that meeting next week,” you nodded, shifting your posture now. “It’s Monday morning. I just need you to be there to help with any outside communications like other appointments since it might be a while. I sent this to you–” He motioned to your computer, which was the PDF you had been reading from his email. “In case something happened to mine for whatever reason. God forbid...” He mumbled, partially rolling his eyes. You chuckled. “Good for you to know it though.”

“I figured. This is also light work.” You cocked a smile, and he repeated the action. “As long as I’m not being expected to execute the whole presentation, I think I can serve well to take calls for you.”

A quiet laugh rumbled out from him. “That’s all I need you for. It’s not here,” He leaned onto your desk with one arm, and you had to desperately peel your eyes away from the way his veins flexed in his forearm. The image was already burned into your brain. “It’s in the branch a couple cities over, so… If you would like to meet me somewhere over here,” You tried to swallow at the implication, but your throat was suddenly so dry. “You know, to make it easier.”

You drew in a breath. “Of course,” You put your hands into your lap so he wouldn't see you nervously wringing your fingers together. “How did you know about my minor driving anxiety?” You playfully quirked an eyebrow at him. 

He smiled. “Intuition. Or my job training.” He stood up straight now. You found yourself wishing he wouldn't leave. “You can leave at three with the rest of them today. I’ll see you on Monday.” You only released the breath you were holding when he was safely behind the confines of his office doors.

The weekend allowed a little relaxing, but mostly anxiety the close it came to Monday. You were finding it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about Leon. This whole week felt like a dream. Your body felt hot anytime you were alone in his office, or anytime he merely stopped at your desk to drop something off. You felt so small next to him, and almost struggled to form coherent thoughts when you had to speak to him. Your eyes thoroughly raked his body up and down when he was turned, his broad expanse of back and shoulders nearly turned your brain to slush. He always smelled like crisp cologne, something expensive, it had to be. 

You found yourself thinking too often about the way he looked at you. It was a stare that wasn't something you were used to receiving on a daily basis. There was something else… His gaze was dark and luring. Like he knew what you were thinking. Like when you two made eye contact, he knew he was the object of your fantasy. 

Which, yes, it had only been a week, but you had to admit, you had never seen anyone this attractive before. And here you were, working for him. It only made your skin heat up more at the knowledge that it was forbidden. It heightened the experience every time you had to see him. That was your boss, and he sure did have that power over you. The conversations you had with him bordered on strictly work, but you were dying to see another side of him. The smirk he gave you when you made him laugh had your stomach twisting in a way that lasted long after the interaction was over. Every time you said something that gave him that reaction, you needed to make it happen again. It felt like a new addiction that developed way too fast. You wondered if he could tell. You at least tried to be subtle about it. 

A shiver raked through your body as you stood outside of your car early that Monday morning. It wasn’t that cold, but you didn't think the weather was the reason you were shivering. You had arrived at headquarters to meet with Leon, as he offered to take you over to another city's department for his meeting. The aforementioned shiver happened immediately after turning and seeing Leon in the same outfit as you saw when you first met him.

His button down shirt strained on his biceps when he moved, and the gray vest sat perfectly on his waist, making you realize exactly how his frame would look underneath his clothes. You had to push this aside as he motioned you to come over to his car.

It was a sleek black sedan, which made sense for who he was. You felt shielded from the world as you closed the door, the tint locking you in next to your boss, who was insanely close to you, and you feared could hear your frantic heartbeat. 

He placed a few files on your lap and you let them sit there for the time being. “I was going to get you coffee, but I didn't know how you would take it.”

You held back a smile at the thought of Leon thinking of you this morning. “It’s okay, but thanks. I already had some.” You saw Leon nod out of your peripheral, and you could only look forward, knowing you might stare if you turned your head. 

“But you take…” Leon prompted. He’s curious anyway? Is he expecting to do it in the future? You could have exploded. 

After rattling off the basics of what you drink, he replied, “Sounds very sweet.” You laughed and nodded. “I don't know about all that. Maybe I’ll try it out.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to be into sweet things.” You risked a look over, and when you did, he mirrored the action with a grin on his face.

“You’d be surprised.”

Thankfully, you were very relieved at the end of the day when the meeting went by with minimal interaction on your part. You were introduced to some of the other important players in the legal game that knew Leon, and sat off to the side with one of the files he handed you. Despite most of the information going over your head, you still paid attention, at least to make Leon look good and show that you were a competent assistant. 

The sun was close to setting by the time you filed back out into the lot, trailing right behind Leon. Slipping into his passenger’s seat, he followed a second after, and you felt your body physically relax knowing the stressor of the week was now defeated.

“Not so bad, right?” He spoke without looking over, shifting gear and taking off.

“Are they always this long? Maybe I should plan ahead and bring multiple drinks with me.” 

He chuckled. “Only sometimes. This one was important, that’s why. They usually aren’t outside the city either so… consider this an introduction to the team.”

You rolled your eyes and looked over. “Do you keep forgetting that I already worked here before this?” You heard the smile through your own voice, and saw one creep on his face as he kept his eyes on the road. Your heart felt light. 

“No, absolutely not. The pace you work at is evident enough of that. It’s just a different type of job, I’m sure. I don’t really know what goes on down there.”

With the smile still on your face, you let your eyes linger on him for a moment more. His hair, which was pushed on top of his head, was starting to fall, and a strand fell onto his forehead. The past week, he had worn it down a couple of times, and you honestly didn't know which one you preferred.

You rolled your head over to the side, watching the passing cars go by. The radio was on, but at the lowest volume, merely for ambiance. Your hand brushed over the files on your lap, that you had taken back from Leon upon leaving so he could shake hands with whoever he needed to, and pried open one of them.

Before your eyes could even properly latch onto any words, Leon’s hand reached over and gently pushed the top of the file closed, and you looked over at him.

“That’s confidential, you know.” He looked over at you for a brief second, but you could see he wasn’t mad. 

“Sorry. I was just sitting through that whole thing, though, in case you forgot.” You looked back down at your lap and noticed Leon’s hand was still on the file, the weight of it heavy on your thighs.

“No, I didn’t forget. I don’t know how much of it was digestible to you.” He barely lifted his hand off of the file folder, pulling it sideways, landing it on your thigh for a second. His hand was big enough to wrap around the side, and a split second later, he dragged it off, and your skin burned with the track it traced. Breathing became hard suddenly, and you had to turn your head to the window and focus on the outside world.

You arrived back at headquarters thirty minutes later, and the fresh air felt incredible on your flushed skin. It wasn’t even that warm in the car, but you couldn't stop thinking about the way Leon’s hand felt on your thigh. It was like he never lifted his hand at all, you could still feel the contact lingering, the way his fingers grazed your leg, the immediate warmth you felt, not only on your thigh, but in your stomach. You wished you could have taken your jacket off in the car.

Before you could get any words out, Leon said, “Come up to the office for a second. I left something up there.”

You said nothing, simply followed him up. The parking lot was nearly deserted, save for the few officers doing a detail whom you greeted when the both of you walked in. You fiddled with the edges of the files you were still holding, not trying to look in any of them in case Leon were to reprimand you for it again. You were almost tempted to, just to see his reaction. That thought made your knees weak.

You followed him out of the elevator into the office. As expected, the lobby was empty. Leon made his way over to his desk, pulling open a file cabinet, and started sifting around. You stood there, then walked over and dropped what you were holding onto his desk. You looked around the office, it was as wide as the lobby was, and large windows spanned the walls. It was simplistic. His desk was in the middle, file cabinets behind him, multiple monitors, a few chairs in front of his desk, some  round black ottomans in front of a black leather couch to the left. There were more files open on top of one of the ottomans. 

You stalked over to it, leaned down and picked one up. It looked like what he had given you the other day–

“You must be a glutton for punishment.” You jumped slightly when Leon spoke from directly behind you and grabbed the file from your hands. You spun around. “You shouldn’t be rifling through random documents, you know.” 

You sighed, not wanting to make eye contact, but knowing not doing it would look bad. You kept your arms to your side despite wanting to cross them. His eyes were dark. You couldn't tell what type of reaction this was.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make a severe mental note of that.” He said nothing in return, simply looking down at you. The peaks of his bone structure highlighted by the distant street lamps and the glow of the moon outside the windows. It made the shadows look all that much darker. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine.

He hummed, a low, throaty sound. “My new assistant, just so nosy.” His voice was low, and you gulped, trying to blink through your emotions normally, but you knew it looked anything but. 

“Dare I say it’s in my job description.” You mirrored his low tone, mentally relieved it wasn’t as weary as you expected it to sound. You tilted your head up to his, as a small gesture of challenge.

He nodded his head, as if to consider your words. “Dare you do.” He backed up, placed the file on his desk, then came right back to his spot in front of you. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still. It was most likely the better option anyway, who knows if your limbs could even move properly right now. You felt bare in this position, your cotton top feeling too warm where it overlapped with your jacket, and though your legs were on display under your skirt, they, too, were burning up. Your heart was hammering, but Leon kept talking. “What do you think about this job so far, hm? Does it live up to expectations?”

You had to take a steady breath before answering. “I think this surpasses any expectation I could have ever set.”

“Good answer.” You maintained eye contact with the man in front of you, surprising yourself with how well you were holding it. He seemed unfazed at all. He was probably reading you like a book right now. “You know, I love having new recruits start here. They’re so unaware of their surroundings. It almost makes a fun game for myself. They think they are so secretive, but after a while I can tell whatever it is they don't want anyone else to know.” You felt your breath catch in your throat. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. “I know Breanna across the lobby from you doesn’t like her desk mate despite buying her coffee three times a week.” Checks out, I can tell, too. “I know Brett does things to stay awake during his shifts that he shouldn’t be doing within a 50 foot radius of a cop.” Ouch. That’s also true, but he only told me during a hard come down. “And, I know how nervous you are to be around me, and you don’t know what to do with yourself whenever I’m in the room.”

You made no moves now. How did he know? Surely you weren’t that obvious with it. It had been one week, and yes Leon called you into his office quite a bit during those five days, but he had work to hand off to you every time. It’s not like he was doing it on purpose. 

But now, standing under his hard gaze, nowhere to go, you weren’t so sure it was accidental. 

Your jaw tightened. “How can you be so sure?” Now, you could hear the waviness in your voice. A smirk blossomed on his handsome face. 

“I can see how you look at me. Usually these things take time to figure out, but you…” He took a step closer, and you took a half step back. It’s not like you didn’t want to be close to him, but now he was donning a persona that made you shrink into yourself. You knew you liked it by the heat spreading inside. “You, dear, are like looking through a window.”

“So… you tested it out earlier?” It felt like a pathetic question, but you needed an answer for why he put his hand on your thigh earlier. Compared to this current position, that seemed so tame.

He tilted his head slightly. “I’m pretty sure I was, but… I had to make sure I was gauging the situation correctly.” He looked you up and down, your hands had made their way to clasp behind your back, still fighting the habit to cross them across your chest. Your breathing felt erratic. “I would have left it there, but I couldn’t make too much of a scene. Not yet.”

You simply stared at each other. You could tell that he knew he had the upper hand, solely because he was correct. Everything he was saying was right. Damn that detective training, nothing was getting past him. The room was sweltering now, but maybe you were the only one that felt it. 

One last burst of confidence had you muttering, “You do this to all your new assistants?”

In one swift action, he had a hand over your waist and pulled you close to him. Bodies touching, heat feeling like a fire between you, he lowered his face so it was centimeters away from yours. The glisten of his eyes were the only thing you could see, and if you weren’t running on pure adrenaline right now, you probably would have collapsed. You felt the vibrations from his chest when he spoke.

“Only the ones I intend to hang on to. And I can’t say I’ve had multiple of those.” You gulped, and when you didn't reply, he continued, “Did I gauge the situation correctly?”

“Yes,” You whispered, and his mouth was on yours. 

His kiss was intense, and you felt now like your body might give out. Your hands found their way to make contact with him, one grasping the wrist that was holding your waist and the other to the side of Leon’s face, and you felt his other hand close in on your hips.

It was like nothing you had experienced before. The kiss was hot and messy, you let his tongue in easily, and you couldn't help the small sighs that escaped whenever he leaned in to deepen the exchange. You felt his nose press into your face, your foreheads pushed together and your bodies entirely too close you felt like one entity. The hand that was caressing his face snaked to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and your knees finally buckled when he gave a low growl in response to you tugging his locks. 

The kiss broke for a second as you lost balance, but he was not thrown off course. Hands still grasping your body, he found the couch that you were only a step in front of, and he lowered you on it, still connecting your lips together fiercely. Both of your hands now in his hair as your back hit the cushions, and you felt the dips next to you where he was kneeling over you. One of his hands let go of you and supported himself next to your head, but you craved the contact again.

He took your chin in his thumb and index finger and tilted your head slightly to the right, and broke the kiss, but his lips stayed on your burning skin as they traced down your jaw bone, biting into the flesh, and his tongue marked a path down your neck, and it was insanely hard to breathe. 

One of your hands found solace on his thick shoulder while he was still making work of the soft skin on your neck. The hand of his that wasn't on your chin still traced its way from your hip up to your chest, and he squeezed one of your breasts in sync with a bite to the neck. Your head pressed harder into the couch underneath you.

“Leon, please…” You gasped out, unsure if you even said it out loud, surprised you even had the energy to speak. You felt him lift his lips off of your skin a second later and his fingers moved your chin again to make you face him.

“What is it, hm? What do you need?” He dipped down to kiss you again, and you wished he would have stayed there so you wouldn't need to verbally answer him. 

“I… I don’t…” I don’t know, I need you. You barely had the breath to speak anymore, and though you knew Leon knew exactly what you were trying to say, he feigned confusion, and looked at you from under his furrowed brow. It was so obnoxious, it ignited the flame inside you even more. 

“Come on, baby, I can’t hear you.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and your vision went blurry with lust. You ground your jaw and swallowed your pride. 

“I need you.” You gasped out finally, your lungs deflating. Your hand was fisting the material over his shoulder, and you noticed through your haze that he wasn’t wearing the vest anymore. When did he take it off? Before you came up to the office? While you had your back turned? It didn’t matter, it was now one less thing you needed to rip off of him. 

“Is that so?” He went back to biting at your neck, and at this rate you didn’t care what state he was going to leave it in. You whined at his lack of response to your plea, feeling frustration and desire bounding up inside of you, needing an outlet to release it.

“Leon, fuck, please…” You weakly tried to push him back but he wouldn’t budge. He reconnected your lips again, and that you greatly accepted, pulling him closer now so he would continue kissing you with fervor. The hand that was on your chin finally left, and he replaced it on your wrist, and suddenly, he was hauling you up.

He pulled back from the kiss just as quickly as he was pulling you to sit upright, and he swiftly maneuvered you so that when he fell backwards to sit on the couch, you were pulled right on top of him, straddling his thick thighs. You couldn’t even imagine how you looked right now, it was out of your mind for now as you looked down at the man under you, his hands on your waist. His shirt was wrinkled and slowly being pulled out from where it was tucked into his pants. His tie was being loosened and the top two buttons had come undone, exposing the smooth expanse of skin over his collarbones and chest. As you let your weight settle onto your legs, and his, you lowered directly onto his growing erection, and he squeezed his hands over your torso and scrunched his face. With a heavy breath, he pulled his head forward and stared at you.

“Did you think I was just going to give it to you?” His voice was gravelly, and it almost made you whimper. His hands dropped to your thighs, which were now incredibly exposed due to the position of your skirt hiking up, and Leon probably had a view of the black panties you had on. You didn’t care. Let him see. You needed him to take them off.

You shook your head. “You can’t be nice to me?” Your hands came up to his chest, it was firm and sturdy, and you were dying to see it bare. You fumbled with the buttons, and Leon had been at least gracious enough to loosen the tie and throw it over his head onto the floor. 

Leon laughed. You felt it under your palms. “Darling,” You looked up to make eye contact with him at the mention of the pet name. “This is me being nice to you.” 

You barely had time to register his words, and the way it made your stomach turn before he had a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you forward to another intense kiss. You could barely breathe, your limbs were all pins and needles and your skin was alight with a burning ember, fueled only by Leon, but you loved it.

In the midst of the kiss, wet and slick and tongue heavy, your hands were needlessly prying the buttons open at the top of Leon’s shirt. His hands were traveling under your clothes, palms gripping your thighs, and you found yourself grinding down into Leon’s lap subconsciously, but kept going when it resulted in him groaning into the kiss.

You pulled back suddenly at the victory of pulling the last few buttons open, and Leon immediately caught your stare, but you dropped it to look down at the open expanse of skin and muscle that he had been hiding. A strong chest gave way to flexing ab muscles as he writhed under you, probably trying to gain your attention or to show off, and sturdy hip muscles abducted into V lines that disappeared under the waistline of his pants. You couldn’t help it, you reached out to drag your hands along the smooth skin, every second of contact adding to the pooling happening between your legs, where you were also very conscious of the fact that Leon’s hands were dangerously close to. 

“Do you want this to happen today, or do you want to keep staring?” Leon prodded at you jokingly, and when you looked up, a grin was plastered on his face, and his eyes were still dark. You felt the tightness arise again at just the sight of his expression paired with his upper body on display for you.

“You’re sounding more eager than me, now…” You breathily replied, overwhelmed with all of the emotions coursing you at once. 

Leon breathed a brief laugh before raising an eyebrow with his response. “I can show you eager.”

At once, his hand reached up in between your legs and you felt one of his fingers dance across the hem of your panties, and your grip tightened where your hand landed on his bicep. He gave you no warning when you felt him pull it aside, drag his finger downwards and raked his knuckle through your wetness, earning a sharp gasp from you in return, and you nearly fell forward onto his chest as the feeling sent sparks soaring through you. 

“Calling me eager…” The sound of his voice paired with the feeling of his fingers on you was far too much to handle. “Yet it feels like you must have been wet all night…” He dragged his finger back up to the top where he maneuvered his hand so the pad of his thumb pressed heavily on your clit, and you nearly screamed, but all sound was trapped in your throat as you lost function of your body.

He ripped his hand out of your underwear and it moved around to find the zipper in the back of your skirt. “Take that shirt off,” He ordered, and you obeyed as best you could through your stiff limbs. 

You peeled it off from the bottom, feeling the fabric stick to your moist skin, and Leon’s eyes heavy on you as you finally got it over your head and on the floor. Your lingerie choice was nothing phenomenal, for the expected business meeting at least, but you could tell by his gaze that it really didn't make a difference in what he was thinking right now. Seconds after you dropped your hands back to your sides, he flipped you once again, back on the couch and him hovering over you, pulling the skirt that he had unzipped down your legs, and into the pile of your shirt and his tie somewhere behind you.

Your breathing was erratic as you watched him intently, his lust-filled eyes on your body and his hand running lengths up and down your torso, legs, back up to your chest, and neck, and landing on your bra strap that he pulled down, and wasted no time in attaching his mouth your hot skin. Your hand gripped his elbow as he bit the tender flesh of your breast, he sucked on it harshly once, twice, before lifting and wrapping his lips over your nipple, which had your back arching and a string of soft moans pouring out. 

You felt an aching cramp in your core, the pleasure was insurmountable and you needed him to do something about it, but you knew he was buying time to rile you up as much as possible before doing so. You knew he was straining with his own pleasure and you were desperate to tear apart his belt and pants and take his girth into your hands, to feel it, to taste it, you wanted to choke on it, but you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. If not in the span of a few minutes, maybe not tonight at all. You were submitting your control, and you had to let him do what he wanted.

He finally let go of your nipple, and the air felt cold with the layer of saliva he left behind, and even though you were basically naked save for undergarments, you still felt too covered. You reached up to pull at Leon’s shirt, fully unbuttoned and untucked, and he leaned back on his knees to pry it off of himself. You could see his skin glistening with sweat as he moved, and so badly you wanted to reach out and touch him, run your hands over his skin, all of his muscles, pull him close so you could feel his chest on your own. 

Your eyes fell to his pants, and the tent that was present had your mouth watering, you needed him to pull it out, and now. 

Of course, Leon being ever so sharp, didn’t miss this. “We’ll get there. Don’t worry.” Without looking up, you could hear the cockiness in his voice, but you didn’t care anymore, you couldn't move your eyes from where they landed, trying to imagine his cock in its glory, how long and thick, how he would use it and how it would feel. You felt like you were melting.

Unmoving from where he was propped up in front of you, his hands traveled down the expanse of your legs, dragging his fingers underneath your thighs where it was sensitive, making you jump with the contact. His hands came around to the top of your knees, where he pushed your legs apart and lowered himself in between them. Even just the sight of him doing so had you whimpering, and when he pressed his thumb into your clothed clit, you bucked up, but he was quick to hold you down.

Keeping his thumb centered on your clit, he continued to apply pressure, using his middle and index finger to stroke up and down on the outside of your panties, which you were sure were soaked by now. Throwing your head back into the couch, one hand gripping onto the wrist that was holding Leon up and the other was clawing into the cushion, you were dying for him to do something. 

He was getting too used to teasing you now. He had you right where he wanted, half naked on the couch in his office after hours, so close to practically coming untouched at this point, and while you wanted to fight him on this, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The mixture of the pleasure and mental ecstasy you were feeling had you forfeiting any sense of control now, and you just watched him, as he watched you.

All at once, you felt the cold air hit your core as your underwear was peeled away from you, but the sensation didn't last long as a hot, wet tongue was pressed into your heat, and you nearly screamed at the sudden contact.

His mouth was all you could focus on in that moment, you could feel every movement his tongue made, and your body reacted viscerally to it. Your hand flew out and grabbed onto Leon’s hair, which incited him to only keep going, and to be ruthless. His hands were digging into your thighs where he was spreading them apart, fighting against you wanting to close them in reaction to pleasure he was sending shooting through your body. 

One long, painfully slow lick from top to bottom ended at your clit where he latched on, tongue pressing in and teeth gently making an appearance, and your grip in his hair became even stronger when he pushed two fingers into you, your vision going blurry, and there was no filter left to stop any thoughts from pouring out over your lips. 

“Oh my god… Leon…” You were whining now, moaning in between deep breaths and gasps, feeling his fingers pump in and out all while his tongue was relentless on you. 

His mouth disappeared but his thumb took its place, and you felt him kissing, licking, sucking his way up your torso, chest, neck, until he was seated next to your ears, groaning into them as you dug your nails into his skin.

“Oh my god, what, huh? You like the way I make you feel?” All you could do was gasp out a ‘yes’ in response to his question, he wasn’t giving you any liberty to be coherent. “You probably thought about this all day…” A bite below your ear followed the sentence. “That pussy was so wet… you probably wanted this since the first day…”

And you did. How could you not have thought about this at the sight of your insanely attractive boss? Wouldn’t it be so hot to be banging your model-status boss, having to hide it from your coworkers, going in his office to sneak touches while no one outside those doors knew? Yes, of course you thought about it. It had your heart racing, and now you would stop at nothing to make those fantasies real.

“You feel so good, I can’t wait to be inside you.” With one last soft bite to the jaw, he pulled his fingers out of you, and involuntarily you whimpered, but he shut you up by pressing a kiss into your lips, which you greatly accepted. His kiss was harsh yet soft at the same time, you felt a passion behind it while also letting his tongue sweep over yours, tasting yourself on him, sighing into it, feeling like you could kiss him forever.

His hands left you, now feeling bare, you gripped his shoulders hard as you heard him undoing his own belt. As much as you wanted to do it yourself and be right in front when you pulled his hard cock out of his pants, you didn’t have it in you to attempt to move yourself, and with Leon on top of you, he was sure to stop any feeble move you made to do so.

HIs lips left yours once more and reattached to the side of your throat, biting down harder than before, but it only made you moan, arch harder into him, and sent a flurry of hot tingles into your pussy, aching for more action from him.

Leon pushed himself off of you, his warm mouth off of you and leaned back, staring at you panting, and of course, his dick in his hands was impossible to ignore. Just seeing it was almost bliss, and now you were desperate for him to use it as you lay there, being scrutinized under your boss’ gaze, and while you felt so tiny, just the sight of how hard he was made you feel so powerful.

He took a deep breath in, taking in the sight of you, before lowering himself again, lining up with your gaze so you looked him directly in the eye. You felt his forehead press into yours, his hand lingered around your underwear again, pushing it aside, and after just another moment of silence, another deep kiss, his bare chest met yours and you felt the tip of his dick push into you, past the entrance, into the warmth. 

You sighed so loud, followed by a moan, hands still gripping his shoulders, listening to him groan in tandem with you as he slowly bottomed out. His pelvis pushed against you, your legs coming up to wrap around him, and you felt his hands pull your bra down so he could cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your nipple, adding to the pleasure. 

“You feel so fucking good… Fuck…” He was groaning, he hadn’t even started moving yet, and you were dying for him to start. He sat still in you, lapping at the skin between your jaw and neck, positive he could feel the vibrations on his lips of your moans.

“Please, Leon, move… Please,” Your nails were surely digging red streaks into the skin of his back by now, but he barely even seemed to notice, rather, you thought he might have loved the feeling of it instead. You felt the pressure of him lying on top of you, paired with the pressure building in between your legs, your thighs beginning to shake, having to hold onto Leon tighter to steady them.

Finally, he slowly started to pull out, and you could barely breathe at the sensation it left behind. He kept his face buried in your neck, you could feel his ragged, heavy breathing and you could hear his groaning which was only making you wetter. 

His hips snapped forward, no regard to what pace you had wanted to set, not like it mattered, you probably would have told him quick and rough anyway if he asked. You almost screamed out at the feeling of him slamming into you, you could only throw your head back onto the couch cushion and rake your hands over his skin, into his hair. Leon licked a long stripe up your neck to your jaw, gently biting on your bottom lip before kissing you again. 

You kept kissing him hard in between his thrusts, with him pulling away for only a second at a time, both of you breathing hard, your hands traveling down to grip his biceps, and you could feel them flexing with his movement. 

“Shit,” He said over you, you could feel his breath on your lips. “So fucking tight,” One of his hands went down to grab onto one of your legs that you had thrown over him. “So fucking good.” He practically growled as he continued the assault on you, his hips showing no mercy, and his hand sure to leave a bruise on your thigh from his grip.

Leon pushed himself up, still inside of you, leaving you lying down. His skin was slick with his sweat, and maybe yours as well from being pressed against you. His hair was falling down over his forehead, and god he looked so good right now, if you weren’t already in the act of getting the shit fucked out of you, you would want to fuck him all over again. His hands adjusted their position to rest on your hips, pulling you up so he can fuck you from his kneeling position.

This new angle was hitting every spot perfectly, allowing him to go deeper than he was from just above you. The intense stretch his cock was delivering paired with the way he was holding onto your hips with such ferocity, all of it together was too much, and you were becoming unwound. 

“Leon… Leon, fuck…” You gasped out, barely able to finish your sentence, but Leon understood well enough. He slowed his pace only a beat, but it was enough to have you straining, desperate for him to go faster to allow you to finish. He kept up with the slower pace, watching you as you whined under him, begging him to go faster.

“Please, Leon…” You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, barely able to keep them open. Through them, you could see him looking at you, brows furrowed in exertion, mouth open, chest rising and falling with rapid breathing.

“Please what?” Leon growled. You whined again, knowing he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. “Say it.”

You couldn’t breathe, but you had to give him what he wanted so he could give you what you wanted. “Leon, please, I’m going to cum… please…” 

He leaned in again, still holding your hips up, his pace even slower now, and you could feel the heat bundling up, bringing tears to your eyes at the lack of relief. His face was inches away from yours. “Please, what?” 

You choked out a sob, mixed with a groan at the slightest movement he made inside of you. “Please let me cum Leon, please,” You had no voice at this point, the words coming out in a whisper, loud enough for him to hear, but he probably would have anyway. 

“That’s right.” He backed up now, and resumed his previous position. “Good girls get what they want when they ask.” Your eyes closed in bliss when he picked up his pace, the weight of his words hanging heavy in your head, adding to the ecstasy he was giving you right now. He was slamming into you again, steadying himself on your hips while also pulling them forward to meet his thrusts. You had no breath left to spare on words anymore, and fruitless moans spilled from your lips focusing the energy on bringing your orgasm to close. 

You tried to call out his name as best as you could, but all you heard were moans as the heat inside you came to a roaring burst, and you felt your legs tighten around Leon, his grip steadying you, your hands clawing at the cushion, at his wrists where they held onto you. 

Your heartbeat was crazy at this point, and you couldn't even hold your eyes open as you rode out your orgasm, his hands smoothing over your skin, and you used the sensation to come back to reality. He had momentarily stilled his movements again, and you felt his lips on your neck, none of the roughness there now. You rolled your head over to the side to face him, and when you did he attached his lips to yours, a passionate kiss, his hands feeling like heaven on your body. 

You pulled away and stared at him for a moment. His eyes were soft, but his face was still contorted in concentration.

“I hope you don’t think we’re done here, darling.” You breathed out a sigh, collecting yourself, a smile creeping onto your face.

You kissed him, and whispered into his lips, “Show me what you got left, then.”

[vmpssd]

more bill brainrot since you're okay with it :) (i think so anyway)

now, I don't really know what scenario to place this in- maybe he's starting to warm up more (physically, emotionally??) or maybe he's helping around your home, I don't know man, D:

he's been really helpful recently, helping with the laundry scattered in the living room, helping to dust some cobwebs in more shaded areas, and other areas of housework.

you couldn't be more thankful for him being so good, lately. it just made your heart warm from seeing him being such a positive influence within you.

you hum whilst drying some dishes, drying them down with a towel while bill takes the dried plates and puts them away, finishing up with your cleaning and with bill putting the last plate away, you smile at him.

"thank you again billy, you've been such a good help, taking such a load off my back."

bill coughs. his yellow color turning red just underneath his eye like blush. his eye averts you, trying to brush it off.

"i'm so good aren't i? the best. you couldn't even think of someone better!"

"mhm, always the best, sweetheart. so good for mommy."

there's something about the way a shiver creeps all the way across bill's body that feels so unreal, even for him. there's a slight, glitched gasp that emits from him at the word 'mommy' that he doesn't seem to register the effect it also has on his body.

bill feels himself heating up considerably fast, a low whine floating through his (non-existent??) mouth. it's not long before you feel him attach himself closer to you, whispering (almost in embarassment) for you to keep talking, just, keep talking.

so you do. "awwh, mommy made you all flustered, billy? so cute. maybe there's a way to make you even more red than you are now."

bill won't admit this (atleast not in this very moment) but he can't deny the pleasure that soars through him that causes his legs to twitch and shake.

he's breathing really heavy now, his eye half-lidded and solely focused on you. watching the way you smile, how your lips curve, that sensual look in your eyes, the way how your body is positioned, just looking down at him like that. (he's in love with it, infatuated, even.)

so when you bend down, pick up his slightly trembling form, and start planting kisses all over him, smearing your lipstick across his body, he can't bring himself to formulate words. let alone a sentence.

he feels the way your lipstick-stained lips glide across his body, the whispers and promises you tell him, the swipe of your tongue and drag of your teeth over his more sensitive zones. oh-ho-ho, he's done for.

"what do you think, billy? should we go back to our room and finish this there? mommy has so much planned with you.."

bill has never made a deal so fast in his life.

(...AAAAAAAA IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS BAD OR SOMETHING, I DIDNT REALLY KNOW WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS BUT I HOPE ITS OKAY TO READ IT!! LOVE YOUUU FOR LETTING ME RANT, LEMME KNOW IF ITS ANNOYING, THANK YOU!!)

NO ANON DW DON'T STOP TALKING AND YES IM OKAY WITH IT, I WOULD BE HAPPY TO HEAR YOUR IDEAS BECAUSE IM OBSESSED WITH IT TOO

YOU JUST GAVE ME A WHOLE FIC AND NOW I AM LOVING YOUR MIND. HIM HELPING US WITH HOUSE CHORES AND HOW IN CHARACTER THIS IS?

'aren't i the best' PROCEEDS TO BE A MESS WHEN WE CALL HIM SWEETHEART AND THANK HIM FOR EVERYTHING

I WOULD PUT ON LIPSTICK JUST TO KISS HIM UGGHHHH to see it on his body no matter the shape or if he's even human, im soooo down bad for him that i would do the triangle without hesitation

looking down at him, chuckling to myself to his whines and how each 'mommy' coming out of my lips gets cipher more worked up 😞😞 manifesting this

THE DRAG OF TEETH OHHHH YOURE COOKING ANON I DO HAVE SO MUCH TO DO TO HIM, NOT WRONG IN THAT

NOT BAD ANON YOUR WRITING IS MMHH GOOD, I ATE THIS ALL UP LIKE THE MOST DELICIOUS MEAL I HAD IN WEEKS BCZ NOT MANY PEOPLE TALK ABOUT THIS, I MYSELF NEVER SAW IT

not annoying also anon! you're welcome to come and rant in my asks whenever you want to!

[shigarakisslutbag]

So I have shigaraki brainrot. So bad LOL. And I'm a huge fucking simp so I would like to say some things about my (our) mans. Before I do tho y'all should know that my therapist made my love for shigaraki so much worse because I very briefly talked about him while we were talking about coping mechanisms for PTSD flashbacks (long story LOL)

ANYWAYS-

I know he's just a character, but this is Tumblr and if I wanna babble about nonsense then I think this is the place.

I want to talk first about how it still rubs me the wrong way sometimes when people make fun of his skin and "crusty-ness". I think a lot of people forget he has a skin disorder (excoriation disorder). Before AFO his mom put (what looked like to me) prescribed ointment and medications for his itching.

I mention this because so many people act like he just... looks like that because of bad hygiene or something?? And it's not. He has a medical condition that he can't properly take care of because he doesn't *exactly* have the resources for that.

Speaking of hygiene, I see lots of people say that he probably smells (even in headcanons for fics), and while he probably doesn't have an entire hygeine routine, I'm sure he at least bathes because his hair is??? So fluffy?? LOL. Because I've had hair his length before (in the beginning of the manga/anime), and let me tell you, unless he's just that perfect (I mean he is, but not my point), he would have to wash at least semi frequently to keep his hair from getting oily and flat. And that man has FLUFF.

LIKE??!

AND??

His hair has a mind of it's own.

It does get flat/oily in later seasons, but he's outside a lot and most likely doesn't have anywhere to shower like he probably did in the beginning seasons.

My brother actually has issues with dry and itchy skin as well and one of the most common things he does to relieve the itch is to shower and moisturize, but no amount of proper hygiene is going to fix shigaraki's scarring.

I will admit I havent finished the recent seasons or am up to date with the manga, but I still stand by what I said. I feel like y'all are too harsh on this man's looks (especially before the "glow up"). Again, I know he's fictional, I just wanted to write about it because I'm bored and don't have much better to do lol. He's been my favorite character since highschool and I'm 21 now:'). I think I will defend him until I die tbh lol.

[pedal-writes]

Homesick (1)

Summary: What happens when Sam Witwicky's older sister, you, gets wrapped up with the conflict of the autobots and the decepticons coincidentally by visiting your family? Over time, it seems that you and the autobot's leader find out you two have more in common than you initially thought… But it doesn't really mean anything, right?

A/N: Hi everyone! This is gonna be my first actual long fanfic which I'm pretty nervous about (since I always seem to backtrack on the ones I try to write.)

But I recently watched Transformers 2007 and the brainrot is honestly too intense, I had to do something about it so bayverse OP x reader!! It's funny, I've been a transformers fan since 2017 and I've now just got around to watching the movie. I was kinda putting it off since it's not exactly a fan fav among some transformers fans haha. Oh yeah, there are a few scenes from the movie I won't write like the weird bumblebee piss scene and some of the mildly suggestive dialogue considering the other two main characters (besides the reader) are literally like 16 😭. Micheal bay is a freak!!!

Just a heads up, I guess I'm going for a more wattpad-y vibe for this fic considering some of the tropes that I'm using and the fact I'm going directly off of the tf 2007 movie (cause that's like every bayverse op x reader that's on there lolz). Idk Ig I just have a guilty pleasure for corny fics so yeah!!

If y'all want to read this on ao3 or Wattpad, it's in my pinned post :3 Anyways, bye pookies!!

As the moon's reflected light illuminated the dark room, it was quiet besides the occasional shuffling and jolting that came from your sleeping form. Suddenly your eyes shot open. You groaned as you sat up and felt a layer of cold sweat coating your forehead. You shakily got up from the bed and began a walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water. A small creak came from the cabinet and you grabbed a small glass and filled it with tap water, taking a few gulps. After four long years of college, you decided to move away from your hometown and all the way across the country to the east coast. Los Angeles was never your type of city as, in your opinion, it was mainly set up for movie stars and aspiring musicians, not computer scientists. So moving to a completely different city like Philadelphia to pursue your passion sounded like a fantastic idea. But now that you’re here, you’ve felt nothing but homesick.

You’ve always been a family-orientated person, always spending time with your parents and helping Sam, your little brother, with what he needed for school. Although he could be a serious little shit sometimes, the two of you were like peas in a pod, absolute besties! A small smile grows across your face as you think of the times you picked him up from school and took him to the arcade or when you always managed to find tickets to his favorite bands and saw them during the weekends.

A small sigh leaves your lips and you set down your glass on the counter. You walk back into your bedroom and take a look at the calendar hanging on the wall, the month being March. The thought of visiting your family crossed your mind and you could wait a few more months until summer came around but it’s not like you were working at the moment. After you moved, you were working a job as an information security analyst. The pay was definitely above average and it was going alright until an unsavory incident happened with a coworker and you literally couldn’t work there, so you quit.

Alright, I have enough money in my bank account to buy a plane ticket and to sustain me for a few weeks while I’m there. I should probably call mom in the morning and tell her I’m planning on visiting, her and dad will probably be ecstatic. As for Sam…

You opened a drawer on your nightstand and pulled out a piece of jewelry. It was an opal bead necklace you found at the mall one day. It was sort of an impulsive purchase, considering the price, but you thought it would be a nice gift for your little brother because opal was his birthstone after all. You gently placed the necklace back in the drawer and shut it, making your way back to your calendar and writing a few reminders on some of the upcoming days. 

       . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

After all the planning and flying, you were finally back in California. It really was a pain since there somehow weren't any available flights to Los Angeles from Philadelphia so you had to spend the night in an empty airport in Kansas and fly to L.A. in the morning. A yawn falls from your lips as you drive through the familiar neighborhoods leading up to your family's home. You turn on the radio and the latest hit began to play, “Irreplaceable” by Beyonce you thought. It wasn’t really your type of music but it’s Beyonce.

A few minutes passed and you heard your phone ringing. You turned down the radio and grabbed it from the passenger seat, flipping it open and putting it against your ear. “Hello?”

‘Hi honey.’ It was your mom. ‘How far out are you?’

“Oh hi mom. I’m not that far, just give me a few more minutes. You don’t have to call me when you know I'll be there eventually.” You chuckled, gently pressing the brakes as you stopped at a red light.

‘I know, I’m just excited to see you!’ Her voice buzzed excitedly. ‘I’ll be waiting outside for you, see you in a bit.’

“See you in a bit.”

A few moments later the familiar layout of your house came into view and you couldn't help but feel a bit giddy. You saw your mom, Judy, excitedly waving next to the frontdoor, you smiled to yourself. You pulled your car into the driveway and got out of it, Judy pulling you into a tight hug, swaying you from side to side slightly. "I'm so happy to see you, honey!" 

She said sweetly, pulling away while holding both of your hands. "How’s my little genius been?"

Your smile turned into a small frown. "Oh I've been doing... alright for the most part. I had to quit my job recently because of a bad experience I had with a coworker. I’ll tell you about it later but it really sucks, I liked that job." You grimaced slightly at the memories of the not-very-pleasant experience, Judy patting your back in a comforting manner. "Anyway, say, where's dad?" You abruptly changed the subject.

"Oh, your father had to run some errands, but he'll be back soon. He's been so hellbent on making his grass perfect. I think he's starting to go a bit crazy." She said, doing a swirly motion around the side of her head.

You chuckle as you walk back over to your car to retrieve your bag and suitcase. You and Judy walk into the house, an excited mojo greeting you by jumping up and down in that typical chihuahua fashion. "Aw, hi mojo." You cooed, leaning down and petting him near his ears. "I missed you too." Your eyes drifted down to his coller, seeing the jewelry wrapped around his neck.

“Is this your doing, mom?” You laughed.

Judy simply shrugged. “I think it looks cute on him. Oh yeah, Sam's upstairs doing his whole eBay thing, I'm sure he'll tell you all about it when you talk to him." Judy said, walking towards the kitchen and preheating the oven. "Do you need help with your bags?"

"No I'm alright mom, thanks though." You say, walking towards the staircase with your bags in hand.

"Alright honey, make sure to tell Sam I'm making lunch."

"Will do!" You holler from upstairs.

You head towards the rather empty room that used to be yours and set your things down, looking around at the empty walls where posters used to hang and the still neat bed, feeling a little nostalgic. You exit your room and head right to Sam's, ignoring the do not enter sign and opening the door. You see your brother’s hunched over figure messing around on his computer and shake your head, knocking on the door frame to alert him of your presence. Sam jumped, turning around suddenly. "Jesus! You scared the shit outta me. I didn't know you were here yet."

"I can't believe you didn't hear me. Come here, give me a hug dude." You said, spreading your arms in an inviting motion. Sam rolled his eyes and walked over and hugged you. You gave him a small pat on the back and pulled away from him, giving him a small grin. "So how are things? How's school?" You asked.

"It's good, pretty good. I've been trying to get this whole eBay thing running. Oh yeah, and dad made a deal with me and soon I’ll have my own car. I just gotta get an A on this history project coming up." Sam replied, turning around and typing a few more things into his laptop before closing it.

“Wow, that’s awfully generous of him. I’m excited for you though.” You chuckled, leaning against his door frame and crossing your arms. "Anything new with that one girl… What was her name?"

"You mean Mikaela?”

“Yeah Mikaela, The girl you’ve liked since forever and is totally not out of your league.” You said sarcastically.

"What??" Sam exclaimed, whipping his head towards you. "She is not out of my league! She is really gorgeous and stunning in every single way, and she would totally give me a chance. I just gotta… ask her.”

"And when will that be, Casanova?" You laughed.

"Soon! Really really soon. When I get this car next week, and I will get that A, then I’ll have a chance! Any girl loves a guy with a nice car." Sam said, a cocky tone in his voice. 

"Oookay, I hear you... oh yeah! Hold on, I got something for you, give me a second..." You walked into your room and rummaged through your purse, pulling out the necklace. You walk back into Sam’s room and excitedly give him the piece of jewelry. “I found it while I was shopping at the local mall a few months ago. Since Opal is your birthstone, I thought you’d like it. And it’s also not a super girly necklace, you’re welcome by the way.”

Sam took the necklace from your hands and admired the carefully strung together beads in the sunlight of his window, the beads glimmering a variety of colors. “Wow this is really neat. Thank you but y’know, I'm not really much of a jewelry guy." Sam said a bit nervously.

"Oh come on, wear it!" You pat him on the back reassuringly. "Girls love guys who are comfortable with their sexuality, it shows maturity. Besides, you'll look like one of those... surfer guys. You know what I mean? When they wear those small necklaces.”

Sam frowned and gestured to himself. "Do I look like a surfer guy?"

"I’m just trying to be supportive!" You said, making your way out of the room. "By the way, mom's making lunch. Make sure not to get too engrossed in your master plan of getting with Mikaela and actually put some meat on those bones." You commented teasingly.

Sam groaned and waved you off dismissively, sitting down at his desk again. You chuckle and walk into your room, crouching down and pulling a few essentials out of your suitcase. Now that you’re back in Cali, you were excited to see a few of your friends that you’ve been friends with since high-school. Funnily enough, you managed to become friends with the “popular girls” solely because you helped a few of them with their math and science work and now they deemed you besties for life.

Which you didn’t mind honestly.

Most of these girls were rich and actually really nice despite what people stereotype “popular girls” to be. The person that comes to mind is your friend Felicity. She’s probably the one you would call your “top tier bestie”, the girl that constantly came over to your house when you were a teenager (annoying your brother immensely), the girl that called you like every single day you were away to college since you two went to different ones. She was super duper excited when you called her, telling her how you were gonna be in town for a few weeks.

Of course she had plans for you two to go to the spa and then go to the beach and blah blah blah. It would be nice to get out of the house every once in a while to catch up since Sam's gonna be in school most of the time. You put your laptop down on your bed and was about to sit down before you heard your mom yell for you from the kitchen.

“Hey sweetie, can you come down and help me?”

“Oh– Coming Mom!” You quickly got up and left your room, heading downstairs. You couldn’t help but look forward to the next few upcoming weeks, knowing it’ll be the most eventful and actually fun thing you’ve done in months. 

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hello it’s me again! It’s been a while, I hope you’ve been doing okay. I recently have been reading through a lot of angst to comfort and I have an idea for a request!

May I request an Ike fic where reader is a liver in NIJISANJI and has a crush on Ike but knows they have no chance with him. Then one day reader accidentally spills their feelings to Ike and Ike comforts them after hearing about readers feelings?

I hope you’re not tired of me requesting Ike fics (ily him to much) and I hope you have a good day/night! <3

-🖋️

stars above your skin

oh 🖋 we're really in it now

how long have i had this request in my inbox? early march? and now exactly one day after blue light dropped, i give you a ~19.5k word ike fic. much love and effort has gone into this one, only seconded by the massive amounts of brainrot.

so yeah, i'm not tired of ike requests. i'm literally a quilldren that writes fanfic. this is the opposite of a problem

in fact this might be one of my favorite things i've written... the second half is such a good bedtime story for me...!

this is going to get NASTY to read on tumblr—as in my site is lagging so hard just typing these a/n notes. so i'm going to remind you all that not only is liking/reblogging recommended to keep track of this fic, but also that i have an ao3 account (same name as url but without dashsince it's much more accessible than tumblr for long fic. i recommend reading on tumblr if you can because of some formatting but to each their own!

here’s a funny story about this fic. i was working on it while a bunch of people sat behind me, you see, and one of my greatest irrational fears is that people sitting behind me will be able to see my laptop screen and laugh at what i’m writing…! and with these requests i usually title them the fandom name and my name, and a short phrase about the request, and this one was “workplace romance”, and i just got so afraid right then and there i changed it to the first thing i could think of, based off a clip i saw of pomu, selen, aia and doppio…!! and that’s why the wip doc is titled “nijisanji 4402 - pliskin”, and why i will always refer to this fic as "pliskin" much more than the actual title

by the way here’s a cover of iris that was pretty fitting for this fic. you’ll know when to play it. enjoy

tags: hurt/comfort, reader is a niji vtuber, gender neutral reader, off-collab, mutual pining, misunderstandings, fluff, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, cuddling, everyone in niji is your wingman, implied uki/ren if you squint but it’s mostly because uki will flirt with 80% of the men in this company

cameos: aia amare, alban knox, mika melatika, nina kosaka, ren zotto, uki violeta, vox akuma, fulgur ovid (mentioned)

⚠️ drinking/alcohol (unspecified if reader drinks alcohol)

⚠️ horror/gore mentions (non-detailed), out of context outlast spoilers i guess?

author's commentary here (spoilers) ↣

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There are dozens of these videos on YouTube, and never have you come across the same one twice. You would know. You have a bad habit of clicking on them. 

After all, they’re labeled with your name on them, and right next to it, Ike Eveland. You are smart enough to recognize it’s not worth your time and just another compilation of the same moments and fans trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, but your heart says otherwise. To be fair, the compilations were a much more recent development than the one you hid under lock and key. 

When you first joined Nijisanji, some of your senpais sent you messages full of greetings and offers to help you get on your feet as a streamer. Ike was one of those senpais, and whenever you popped into voice calls just to hang out, he was easy to talk to, like an old friend. Naturally, a fast friendship formed, and when you debuted, he was one of the first people you collabed with- and the one with the best reception. Your new fans (‘Bookworms,’ they called themselves, after your name Reader) loved how well your humor bounced off each other, and when weeks passed and you announced another collab on your schedule with Ike, your Bookworms rejoiced. 

Even when you weren’t working, you would still talk to him. He told you about his homeland in the past and his novels, both released and unpublished. He was a storyteller even when he was talking about something as minute as making a sandwich, and whenever you brought up your past and interests, he was an excellent listener. You had your differences, but he always knew what questions to ask so he could understand you better, and you loved the opportunity to ramble. 

It had been nearly three months since you debuted, and four if you count the day you were officially hired and began to build yourself as a streamer. Whenever you look at the endlessly long text history between you and Ike, you have to wonder: is it normal to feel so connected to someone you’ve only known for three-maybe-four months? 

You’re not an idiot. You aren’t about to say Ike is the most important thing in the world to you, but he gets pretty damn close. That terrifies you. You shouldn’t be so attached to someone you barely know. 

But then again, you trust Ike. He’s opened up to you about things he would never say to others, and he keeps your secrets buried in the grave. You’ve lost count of how much advice he’s given you, but you’ve never forgotten a single one, and whenever you feel lost about something you know you can count on him to help you out. 

You grimace, sip out of your drinking glass, and press ‘play’ on the next compilation. 

A cute intro plays with the clipper’s name. Above it are the words Pen and Paper, surrounded by puffy pink hearts. 

That was the duo name between you and Ike, but "ship name" was more accurate among fanwork.

You weren’t exactly unaware about it. Weeks ago, you were surfing Twitter and the site’s algorithm granted you your introduction into Pen and Paper. This was shortly after your first collab with Ike, and after you established your shipping rules with your audience (“I’m fine with anything, as long as the other liver is okay with it!”, you proclaimed, totally oblivious to how soon that would blow up in your face). The fanartist posted a messy black-and-white sketch, but you could make out the pattern of Ike’s scarf wrapped around you and him at the same time, forcing your bodies into close proximity with averted eyes and dusty blushes. 

You appreciated the fanartist’s passion and skill, but the thought of you and Ike as an item sunk in your chest like you swallowed a rock. You swiped past. You went back to your scrolling, found some good thumbnails, and retweeted some cute solo fanart, but before the week ended, you made a private account with a fake name and staked out the tags for Pen and Paper to follow that fanartist.

Damn fanartist. You tried to deny it, and told yourself that you followed their art because you liked the style. But their account was full of ship art, and when Twitter gave you similar users that all worked under the hashtag, you had to face facts. If you wanted to look at it optimistically, at least you figured it out early on before anything had the chance to sour while you were still blissfully ignorant of yourself; even then, that doesn’t make it any harder than it already is.

Besides all the texts, the meetings, the schedules and events, and then including the streams and collabs and the art and the fandom… 

“Why?” You ask out loud in the silence of your room. “Why did I have to fall for my coworker?”

And with audiences of over hundreds of people watching you fall for him, nonetheless!

It’s irritating. You have a job that keeps you motivated to work hard. It’s given you a dedicated fanbase, rare opportunities, and coworkers you all recognize as your friends. Really, finding someone to care for because of it should be a blessing, but it’s such a headache. What if your fanbases get jealous, or even worse, outright hate it? Would you be able to keep up a relationship when you and Ike are dedicated to your careers and streams? Why are you even thinking like this? You scold yourself. There’s no way this would ever work out. It’s all fantasy and smoke and mirrors, because fandoms love love. Shipping is never a reflection of the streamers, just the characters you play. You’re delusional if you think your stupid crush could actually go anywhere.

But fandoms love love. The only comfort you have is being able to pretend something could happen. The ship art is a lie, and so are the fanfics, and the clippers that tag their videos as Pen and Paper are just here for a possibility that never could happen.

The compilation is full of little hints and teases, and if you were being honest with yourself, most of it was more like two friends getting along than actual flirting. But you didn’t trust yourself to see your clumsiness for what it is when Ike’s little laughs are like music to your ears. 

Damage control, you tell yourself. It’s like studying how you play your favorite games. You can pinpoint where you stumble and leave yourself open for attack in Apex, Smash, even Crab Game, and then amend those mistakes the next time you pick up the game. Real life should be no different. Just stop acting so dorky all the time by finding moments of dork in your VODs and avoid them next time you talk to Ike.

This clip was from your second collab with Ike. Captions floated along the bottom of the screen. Ike's captions were in his signature blue.

IKE: You know, there’s a lot of content about us two as a duo.

READER: They call us Pen and Paper, right?

IKE: Yeah, my art tag is flooded with art of the both of us. 

READER: Oh my God, look at the chat. Mine’s full of people saying they love us together. 

IKE: Aww, thanks, Quilldren! I’m happy I can play with Reader too. 

READER: Thank you, Bookworms; thank you, Quilldren. Hey, there’s a lot more overlap than I expected.

IKE: They’re like Bookdren.

READER: Or Quillworms.

IKE: Quillworms, that sounds way better. They’re like our children.

READER: www

IKE: www

Never fucking mind about acting so dorky all the time. You kick yourself for bringing up Pen and Paper, and your giggly laugh. You hate it. A neon sign above your head that says “SIMP” would be less obvious than that stupid schoolkid laugh.

But Ike’s laughter is music, back in the moment and now as you revisit it, and his model’s eyes squint with a wide smile.

He really is an amazing man. If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you’d think he’s perfect. But you’ve seen him in moments of vulnerability, the parts of himself that never shows through on stream and even rarer among his friends. Through it all he manages to keep going, and you admire him so much for sticking to his guns even when he’s expressed all his doubts about himself. The fact that he trusts you enough to let his guard down only adds to how honored you are to know him, and at the same time, the fact that there’s so much trust between you two just makes you feel worse for having a crush on him. You hate keeping secrets like this when you let Ike read you like an open book for everything else, and even just wishing you were something more to him feels like a betrayal of all that trust. You wish you could just be satisfied to know him.

The compilation continues. The next clip is a totsu Fall Guys collab hosted by Fulgur Ovid that you and Ike joined in on. Fuuchan got eliminated early in the match, and spectated on you while the other livers ran around Roll On with players tugging them this way and that. 

You moved around the rotating levels at the perfect sweet spot between two rings, and balanced at the top of the roll as the slime level slowly rose.

A longer wall approached, so you shuffled from one level to another, but another player grabbed your bean avatar and dragged you along to the wall even as you yelled out in panic on Discord. You smashed your keys to struggle, but they had an advantage, and it was clear the wall would push you down to the slime for an impending elimination.

That is, until a familiar Miku bean grabbed the other side of your avatar, and pulled the other way towards the ring that would save your life. Resigned, your attacker backed off and barely dodged out of the way while Ike’s Miku bean brought you back to safety.

The other two livers in the game were too noisy to notice you. Fuuchan was commentating every move you made, and when Ike saved you, he said, “Ike coming in clutch, let’s fucking go.”

Your recorded self didn’t hear him at all, though. You swooned, “Ike, my hero!”

Meanwhile in the present, you wanted to puke. You meant for that to sound like an over-the-top joke, but you crush is getting so serious that it sounds less like a bit and more like how you gush about him in private. 

At least Fuuchan’s audio was louder than everyone else, since he was the host, and the other two livers were preoccupied with their own game to notice your lovey-dovey tone and how Ike laughed music at you. It was bad enough clippers transcribed your words in captions, but you weren’t sure how you would handle it if those three picked up on you and your dumb crush. The less that know about your workplace romance, the better.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“Reader,” Aia coos. Even with audio only, you could tell her eyes were sparkling. “You didn’t tell me you had a workplace romance!”

Well, so much for that plan. You froze over. “Who told you that?”

Mika answers way too quickly. “It’s Alban’s fault.”

“Fuck off, Mika, you brought it up first!”

“You said it though!”

Man, you were already starting to regret joining VC today. You finished your offline work a lot faster than expected, so when you realized that three of your close friends in the company were all online in VC together while Alban privately streamed a rhythm game, you figured you would join the call while you prepared dinner. 

But if that was your greeting, you needed to mentally prepare for the wild interrogation you were about to experience. At least Aia, despite her love for drama, knew how to navigate these sorts of things delicately. And you don’t mean to call Mika and Alban bad friends—they were the exact opposite, in fact—but they were much nosier than Aia ever came across.

“Okay, but Reader just asked who leaked it, and didn’t deny it,” Aia says. “So that means it must be true!”

Scratch that. Aia is the worst out of all of them.

“I hate you guys. No hello or anything, just gossip about my love life,” you lament.

She gasps, and if her eyes were sparkling before, then roses bloomed around her as she spoke. “It’s love?”

Mika shrieks like a banshee. “Oh hell no, you’re in love and you didn’t tell us?!”

“It’s not love. It’s nothing!”

“Nah-uh, Reader, no running away from it, we know,” Alban says. “Better to just get it all out in the open than pretend like nothing’s up.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to snoop.”

“I’m being serious. Keeping stuff bottled up deteriorates you, especially when love’s involved.” He missed a note. “Shit. And yeah, okay, I want some gossip, but I have a point and you know it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, I blew a full combo just to say that!”

“Can I add? In case you forgot, Reader, we’re all in the same company,” Mika says. “Sure, I might be in a different branch, but who knows? Maybe we can help.”

“And fuck you too.” You sigh in defeat. As vitriolic as your shared humor was, these three were still some of your best friends, and you know they don’t mean any harm. “Ugh, I hate this. This is confidential information. Like, CIA levels of confidential. If I tell you guys, you can’t tell a single soul about it. Understand?”

The three all chime in agreement. And unfortunately, you trust them. You take advantage of your coworkers swearing themselves to secrecy to hype yourself up and just rip off the band-aid. “It’s Ike.”

“We know.”

“What the hell do you mean, you know?!”

“It’s obvious,” Aia says. Your heart hammers in your chest. Then she sputters for a moment, like she realized she might’ve hit a soft spot. “Well, you have to focus on it to see it, but once you see it, it’s hard to ignore. You two go well together.”

Alban pitches in. “Agreed. I’m not even gonna be subtle about it, you and Ike have great chemistry. I’m happy for you two.”

“Okay, I guess.” Your eyes drift away from your prepared ingredients to the corner of your kitchen. “But I don’t know. Are you sure? Because I feel like I always act like an idiot whenever I’m around him. And I doubt he’d ever feel the same way.”

“Wait.” Aia pauses. “You’re… not dating?”

“No. Just a crush. Not love, not dating, nothing. And it’s never going to be anything more than that because it’s just a big stupid crush on my coworker, who doesn’t even live close enough to visit, and this is all a recipe for disaster.”

She doesn’t say anything about that. Actually, none of them do. Even Alban pressed pause on his game, and the Discord stream went motionless as your words sunk in. 

Mika is the one to break the silence. “You’re shitting me.”

“That’s the truth. Happy?”

“No, like, you’re shitting me, there’s no way.”

“Mikaaa.” Alban drags out her name as he scolds her. 

“Hey, I’m just saying, that’s crazy, especially since—“

“Don’t tell Reader that!”

“Tell me what?” 

“We thought you were already a thing. You know, dating, in a relationship, whatever,” Mika clarifies. It hits you like a punch to the gut. “Or at least that you had something going on, and kept it secret so it wouldn’t be awkward for everyone else to work with you two. Which, by the way, we’re all chill with, so if, hypothetically, you decided to hypothetically go for it, we would hypothetically cheer you on and set off hypothetical fireworks. I’d rent a food truck.”

Alban resumes his game. “Yeah, what she said. Go get that hypothetical novelist bussy.”

“Don’t hypothetically talk about my brother like that.”

“You’re sure this is okay?” You ask. “Mika, I know you and Ike are close. This isn’t going to make anything weird, is it?”

“You’re fine, Reader. If I had problems, I would’ve cornered you and threatened you over text ages ago when I figured it out.”

“That’s another thing. How did you guys know?”

Aia pipes up first. “I know I said it was obvious, but I think that’s just because we know each other since we’re good friends. You two just go together, you know? It’s hard to explain, but whenever Reader and Ike-senpai are in the same room you think, ‘those two would be cute,’ and then you realize they are cute, right there in the moment. And you talk a lot faster on stream whenever you’re both on the same page. Almost as fast as me.”

 “Plus, it’s really common to see both of you on VC at the same time, and you’re always happy whenever he shows up,” Mika affirms. “Alban says whenever one of you enters the call the other is soon to follow.” 

“It’s true. You talk fast whenever you talk to him on VC too, not just stream. And your laugh kind of changes?”

“Dammit, I knew my laugh was my tell. This sucks. This seriously sucks.”

“It might not be all that bad,” Mika says. “Who knows, maybe things might end up better than you expect. You should tell him.”

“No way,” you fire back. “There no way he’d actually reciprocate. And I know you guys are fine with me asking, but Ike himself is just going to reject me, and it’s going to be awkward, and literally everyone in the company who has ever talked to us will be able to tell something’s up.”

“They won’t be weird,” Aia insists. “We won’t, either, and Ike-senpai is a good guy. Even if it doesn’t work out, he wouldn’t leave you out to dry like that.”

“You don’t know. None of you have ever been in this situation.”

“That’s true, but there’s always a chance.”

“If you ask me, it sounds more like you’re afraid of what you think would happen instead of what rationally would,” Alban says. He’s still laser-focused on his game. “I dunno. If you’re really set on getting over it, then go ahead and ignore it, but that’s just going to eat at you for who knows how long before your crush starts to fade.”

“Well, I didn’t ask.”

“Fine. Forget I said anything.”

You regret the acidic tone in your voice the second you said it, but Alban was off in his own world of music. He’d tell you if he had a problem with how you spoke to him, but you still feel gross about your knee-jerk reaction. 

You’re just… defensive. Yep, that’s the word. Whenever you’re this interested in someone, you put your walls up and protect yourself from letting anyone worm through and hit a weak point. 

Aia hums like an analyst. “Just keep it in mind, Reader. Not everything is out to get you.”

You know your friends just wanted the best for you, but things just aren’t as simple as they’d like to imagine it. It’s none of their business, anyways. It was pure coincidence that they figured out your thoughts on Ike, and that means none of them have any real authority to advise you on your love life.

“I think we’re done talking about this,” you assert.

“Well, you heard ‘em. Pack it up, show’s over.” Mika changed the subject. “Hey, did you guys know if you try to break open a freshly boiled egg, it explodes?”

Alban slams his hands on his keyboard so loudly that you hear the switches over his noise suppression. The stream goes from a string of Awesome! notes to nothing but misses as he abandons the game. “YES. Yes, actually, I DO know.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“MEAT! WANTS MEAT! WANTS MEAT! MEAT!”

“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The stream is to the birds. Fuck that noise. Godspeed to the Bookworms, they’ll need it, but not nearly as much as you. 

When you were settling on a schedule, the last undecided spot for the week was Friday’s stream. That simply wouldn’t do. Friday nights kick off the weekend, and the break from school and work is prime time for a wide audience, so pretty much everyone in Nijisanji reserves their juiciest streams for the weekend. You’re no exception.

…Except for the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what to do for Friday’s stream. One Twitter poll and conveniently timed Steam sale later, you published your schedule with a game your fans voted on: Outlast.

You walked in knowing it would be a horror game, and you figured it would be fine. After all, you’ve played games from Chilla’s Art before, and a few quirky indie psychological releases here and there. You wouldn’t call yourself a stone-faced horror lover that can keep a straight face at anything, but aside from a few creepy moments in those game, you’ve kept your cool relatively well. 

Outlast threw all that out the window. You realized almost immediately that you had no idea how to handle the primal fear of the chase. 

Footsteps pound against a metal floor. You plead for help in the emptiness of your home as you smash the controls, as if that would make your character move the cabinet over the door any faster. Screams resonate in tune between you and the chained man in the room with you, and all the while, the howling of your pursuer grows louder and louder as he gets closer.

You finally uncover the door and dash through. Tremors run though all your thoughts while your heart beats overtime. 

You still haven’t gotten used to all the jumpscares, even though you’re at the edge of your seat and ready to start running yourself. A fork in the road approaches, and when you start off one direction, you’re greeted by a bloodied man in the distance. “AAAHH!”

Faster than light, you slam the key to the other hall and book it. You spot a new storage container to shove in front of the door just in time for text to appear on the screen: Look for pushable objects to block doors.

“No shit, why wouldn’t you tell me that before, oh my God, aaaaah!” The screams—from both the voice actors and your own cries—grate against your eardrums while chase music thunders in-between the gasps for air. 

As you grab the container and start to push, you mash the pause button. When the menu appears, you lean back in your chair and run your hands over your face. Your model pouts cutely while the real you whimpers. The mic barely picks it up.

You take a breath before groaning in fear and pain. “Guys. I don’t think I can do this…” Another groan as you trail off. “This game is so much. Give me a second.”

As you raise yourself back from your chair, it’s with a slump forward. Your chat is full of headpat emotes and hearts in your color, along with some quick words of courage. A few are recommending you take a break. “Thanks, Bookworms. I’m so afraid, but I’m committed and I don’t want to just leave it here.”

Your eyes flutter closed as you take a sip of water to clear your head. The cold drink startles you out of the dingy asylum atmosphere, but the screaming still lingers between your ears. “You know what? Who else is online right now? Maybe I need someone in VC to hold me to this.”

The emojis in chat slowly patter out as your viewers go back to text. Looks like most of your Bookworms like the idea of calling someone else while you stream the game. Some of their messages catch your eye. 

gatamiizuus: you can call ike :ReaderHeadpat: 

messXed-up!: ike!!

lunasmortas: what about ike?

A few more chats mention Ike, and while usually you’d be irritated they mentioned another liver out of the blue, your shoulders still relax at the sight of his name. “Wait, Ike? Is Ike here?”

You scroll back in the chat history, and search for any mod messages. Sure enough, barely a minute ago while you were still being chased:

Ike Eveland 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : GANBARE!

You cling onto that message like a lifeline. Ike is familiar. Ike is comforting. And most importantly, Ike would never call you a pussy.

Chat floods over with his name while you check the official Nijisanji Discord server. Almost everyone in Nijisanji sets their status to offline by default, and Ike is one of them, but you still scan through the member list anyways, praying a little green indicator will light up by his icon.

His status doesn’t change, but before you can even click on his profile, your Direct Messages tab gains a notification. He just messaged you.

Ike Eveland: Watching your stream right now

Ike Eveland: Are you okay?

You exhale. Ike is the most dependable guy you know, even when it’s pure coincidence he was watching your stream while you freaked out. 

With your heart still in your throat, you respond.

Me: uuuuuuugh i guess

Me: the game is really scary

Me: i don’t want to cancel the stream but i don’t think i can play it by myself 😭

Ike Eveland: 🫂    | 🫂 1 |

Ike Eveland: Would you feel better if I called you?

Me: i was just about to ask    | 👌 1 |

Me: you don’t have to if you don’t want to tho!! i don’t want to be a nuisance lol

Ike Eveland: Don’t worry I offered to!

Ike Eveland started a voice call.

“Ikeee!” The second the call starts, all your restraint goes forgotten. “Ike, I was so scared!”

You babble on about everything you’ve endured up to this point: the gore, the grime, and the patients in the asylum that hunt you like animals. 

 “I’m here, it’s alright now,” he assures you. “I’m here, okay? Take your time, you’re safe.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m relieved. But it was so scary.” You sink and bury yourself in the collar of your shirt. “You’ve streamed this before, and kept a cool head the entire time, right? How do you do it?”

“Well, it wasn’t my first time playing, for starters. Everyone gets freaked out at first. It’s a horror game, Reader, it’s okay to react to it. I remember the first time I played it, it scared me so bad I had to quit after half an hour.” He giggles a bit at himself. The sound is comforting. “That was a few years ago. I think I had nightmares about it, until I realized I needed to know the rest of the story. ”

Your voice is small. “That was really brave of you.”

“I avoided it for days. I doubt that’s brave.”

“It’s braver than calling someone just to get the guts to play the game.”

“Hey, don’t put my friend Reader down just to bring me up.” He keeps his tone light to let you know you’re allowed to smile. “Being able to face your fears is plenty on its own, and you shouldn’t be devaluing that. How long have you been at it?”

“A little over two hours?” You glance at the stream monitor, and ignore the chat as much as you can. You still register the hearts in your color and his signature blue. “I don’t know. I did a lot of pausing, too, so it’s probably less than that…”

“But you were still able to stream for that long. Remember, I could only play for thirty minutes during my first time! You’re stronger than you think you are.”

You avert your eyes from your stream setup. You feel painfully seen, but the chat is nothing to you. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Then I’ll be here to remind you. Is that okay?”

“I’d like that.” You return to the screen, and in the darkness of the blurred labyrinth, you see your reflection stare back. Your hair is disheveled from how you kept thrashing around in reaction to the game and your shoulders are high with tension, but only now did you realize how the corners of your lips rose after the call started. Ike really got to you. “Thank you, Ike, you’re so considerate. I appreciate you a lot. You’re a really good guy.”

He chuckles slowly, soft like a blanket. Your shoulders ease. Ike’s words are just as soft, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s nervous too. “Haha, um. Yeah. Thank you?” He doesn’t take compliments well, but they’re true, and you hope he knows it as well as you do. He clears his throat. “Ahem. Um, how are you feeling?”

“Not great, but better. I want to try again.”

“You’ve got this, Reader, you can do it.” Ike is still quiet, but enthusiastic. “You can do it!”

You go shaky. “Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.”

But you still press Return To Game.

And when you scream barely five seconds later, Ike is still calm, and you hone in on his voice as you persevere.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Just as you go to bed, you realize that you basically just made a fool of yourself in front of your crush by getting scared at a game he’s already conquered. 

You slam a pillow over your face and groan.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ike lands an all-out attack just in time to check the chat and the swarm of viewers that just joined. “Oh, Reader! Thank you for the raid, it’s good to see you! Welcome, everybody.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : take care of my bookworms for me? i’m getting milk

“Of course. They’re our Quillworms, after all.” You go fuzzy. He remembered the fan name! “Have a good break, Reader! Rest well.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 👍

It was the end of the week, and the stream you just finished was the last on your schedule. You announced a few days ago that you would take a break for a little more than two weeks so you could catch up on offline work as well as rest, and the Bookworms sent you off with a lot of love. It’ll be hard for some of your diehard fans, but you’re sure they’ll manage. You have a feeling it’ll be easier than they expect. 

“Speaking of breaks, I haven’t finished my schedule yet. I think I’ll wait a day or two to post it.” The stream cracks in red and black as Ike’s party in Persona 5 Royal clobbers the enemy Shadows. Monsters bleed out behind the protagonist’s cocky smirk. “I’ll be offline for the next two days, so I’ll have some time to think about it.”

Ike mashes through the battle results, and sets back off into exploring the palace. His stream fades into background noise as you get back to the task at hand. 

You sent a few messages to some of your other coworkers regarding your break. Next was finishing some paperwork for management, and reaching out to others that needed access to the files. Sure, your time off was for offline work, but the work you had to get done would only take an afternoon at most. You wanted to meet even the far-off deadlines as soon as possible so you could be properly free for the rest of your vacation.

By the time you finished your paperwork, your coworkers were able to respond to you. A group chat full of other livers had a new response every minute about the next two weeks, and Aia sent you a QR code that would let you save some time and money on your flight. 

Ike ended yet another super-long P5R stream just a few minutes after you grabbed all your luggage, got to the airport, and made it to your terminal. You had some time to kill, but you were sick of the headphones over your ears.

Not to mention, you were waiting for the fans to catch up on the real reason why you were on break.

Curiously, you log into your private Twitter—you don’t plan to interact with anything but you’re always paranoid about your online presence—and start searching for the code words fans think Vtubers have no idea about. Symbols replace letters and names morph into sounds while emojis speak volumes.  

The Stargazers don’t mention it at all. That’s to be expected, after all. Their oshi goes on break often, so nothing seems too out of the ordinary. Besides, you wouldn’t put it past them to have even more intricate subtweets than what you’re looking for.

Only a few of Nina’s Honeybunnies put the pieces together at first, but then you check Quilldren subtweets. As it turns out, when Ike mentioned he’d be taking a few days off, a few of his fans noticed how Nina was going to be offline at the same time, and a smaller fraction of those compared how Mika had yet to release a schedule. 

Underneath your face mask, you smile. With the career being dependent on both anonymity and your voice, you wore a nondescript black mask through the entire airport in case someone recognized you, just as well as to hide the tiny giggle that always bubbles up whenever you watch your fans scramble around theorizing. They don’t have all the pieces, after all. None of the Aiadmirers nor the Renvaders even considered it.

They’ll figure it out in time nonetheless. Uki and Nina are close to landing, and Aia was the first to disembark her plane. The rest of your friends are set to arrive after you, and besides, Vox should be ending his last stream of the week right now. You’re sure the Kindred will start plotting in the next hour, provided their oshi didn’t give them too big of a hint about his plans for the next week as he’s known to do.

You board your plane and settle into your seat, ready to nap the flight away. You’ll need the rest, after all. It’s about time you join an off-collab.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Nina doesn’t even get the chance to look away from her phone before she gets a rush of replies on her first voice tweet.

She doesn’t bother to read them anyways. She’s too busy howling out the lyrics to “Wannabe.”

It’ll be hard to discern all the voices. Ike’s high range is always easy to pick out, but Vox blends in as a bass, and you can always hear Mika’s grin through her singing. Ren and Aia are the furthest from the phone, and as loud as they sing, they’re still drowned out along with you, Uki, and Nina herself.

Mika chooses the wrong time to look around the karaoke booth. While Aia sings passionately about what she wants (what she really, really wants), her body language crumples and rises like an electrocuted high school theater kid. The ghost has a hiccuping, sweeping laugh that overpowers half of the singers, and then Aia snorts at herself when Mika covers her mouth, which gets Vox to snort even louder, and before you know it, it’s just Uki and Nina doing their damndest not to break. Even then, Nina’s voice wavers along to the Spice Girls as she resists a laugh, and Uki’s eyes are squeezed shut smiling.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The bar stool slides out from the counter so quietly that you wonder if the Airbnb owner knew just how handy it would be for a house full of streamers on vacation. You lean forward while Mika tells a story about how she, Aia, Ren and you went out for a coffee run, and crossed paths with some teenagers with matching Iluna keychains on their backpacks. 

Speaking of Iluna, their represents sat together on the couch. Aia set her plate and fork on the coffee table, not a single pool of sauce left over from the pasta dinner Vox and Uki prepared together. Somehow Ren made enough room in his luggage to bring along a teal ukulele, and idly strums along. Uki sits between Ren and the armrest, swirling the last of his pasta between his fork.

Across from them, Vox and Nina took ownership of two plush chairs that could only fit one person each. Each chair was next to a corner table, and they stacked their plates on top of one another to make room for a jug of orange juice and two cocktail glasses. Ike took a bottle of rum and poured it into his soda, then slid it back to the corner table before pulling up the bar stool next to you. 

“It was like, one of them had a clear phone case and held it out to show the others a video,” Mika says. She perched on top of the counter itself, next to her travel microphone and the second-nastiest kitchen stream setup you’ve ever seen. She was no Scarle, but so many wires stretched across the island and along the way that it was just easier for her to climb onto the polished granite to keep an eye on the chat. “Smack-dab in the center was a PNG of Vox. And then a bunch of tinier Voxes around it. And here’s how you know it’s bad, you could see the color of the phone itself through the case because it’s clear, right? It was red. Red! That’s commitment!”

“I’m telling you, Mika, there’s no way they got a red phone just because of Vox,” Aia says. “That’s got to be a coincidence.”

Vox hums into his glass. “No, they absolutely did. You mean to tell me your fans don’t spoil you rotten and buy new phones just because they’re your color?”

“My color is white, Vox, like every phone ever is my color!”

“Still, I’ve never seen Aia go so quiet so fast.” Ren’s ukulele twangs as he grins. His fangs were just as prominent in real life. “It was awesome.”

“It was scary, but funny,” you say. “We saw the Vox case and the Iluna keychains, and all of us just went silent. And we all had masks, too, so it was like, one moment you could hear Ren’s fuckboy laugh, and the second we saw the case, we all put up our masks and went quieter than the grave.”

Ren palms the neck of the ukulele and mutes the chord in mock offense. “Hey! I’m not a fuckboy!”

“Didn’t say you were, but if you want to out yourself like that, be my guest. They’d chop off your horns and sell them like Kyo.”

“One of them had an Aster keychain.” Ren bitterly resumes playing. Uki sets his plate on the table and drapes himself over the alien’s shoulder as he opened up his phone to check the off-collab’s live tag. The stream was supposed to be a live Q&A, but was so easy to talk to everyone that the questions often turned into conversation before someone remembered the stream. “If Aia or I said anything, we’d be fucked.”

“Imagine how fucked we would’ve been if Vox woke up in time to go with us,” you say.

Ike snickers. “Is it bad that I would’ve paid money to see that?”

The two Luxiem members get into a playful argument over who would win in a fight: all the effort Nijisanji and its employees put into protecting their privacy, or one silly phone case. Ren’s riffing turns into a simple rendition of “Iris” and Nina hums along from across the living room. The ukulele is slow and unique enough to not be mistaken for the original, but you wonder if those two would be able to avoid copyright entirely.

Nonetheless, the vibe is comfortable. You’re miles away from home, but in a room with some of your closest friends in the world, it’s like you never left. Truthfully, it’s more like you’ve finally found your place. The music just feels right, like it was written for this moment, and Aia leans back into the couch while Nina sways in her seat to the jaunty little ukulele. Ren looks as cheery as his instrument sounds, especially with a peaceful Uki nuzzled up to him. 

While Ike and Vox go at it, Mika props her chin up with both hands and watches them like a reality TV show. There’s a glint in Vox’s eyes as Ike drums up a snide response, the only sane man to the demon’s goofiness. He brings his rum and coke to his lips like punctuation, a silent so, what? hidden in the boozy soda. 

Vox knows how to run his mouth, and he launches into one of his patented anecdotes. While all eyes are on the demon and the chat hones in on his voice, you focus on how Ike tilts his head up to drink. His neck stretches out from the collar of his black band tee, and with each sip, his Adam’s apple bobs. 

You’ve always thought he was good-looking on stream, but he’s gorgeous in person, all long lines and graceful features, and cameras can’t capture the tiny little freckles drizzled down the back of his neck. You didn’t even know he had freckles. It was only after you saw him for the first time that you noticed pale, reddish dots all over his nose and cheeks, fading out by his temples and the arch of his lips. Spending the day walking around in the sun from place to place revealed more whenever the wind flicked his jacket collar out right. They scatter at his nape, right below the blue tips of his hair, and meet one another further down his back, or so you’d presume. Without the jacket, you can catch marks spread out along his arms with distance between one another, and his shirt sleeve starts right where the freckles cluster together. You can only imagine how far down they go.

You avert your eyes. You can’t think about what’s under the shirt when you’re sitting right next to him, and certainly not while on stream, even if chat can’t see you check him out!

Unfortunately, the side opposite of Ike is the one with Ren and Uki. Those two are idyllic. Without a care in the world, it seems. You envy how easily Uki can act on what he wants, even if you know he doesn’t see Ren like how you see Ike. Ren doesn’t mind it at all, either. He literally lives by the rhythm of his own ukulele. 

Ike lowers his drink with his eyes closed, as if it would make the refreshing feeling last longer. His eyelashes are the same ashen color as his hair. Gold gleams between his ears and on the chain of his glasses.

Possessed by the music, and distracted by the rambling, you become one with the background and lean along Ike’s arm.

It’s an indulgent dip into the waters, but shallow compared to all you feel for him. Ever since you met Ike in person it’s been easier to control yourself around him, and if anything, you’re reminded that this is the man you’ve gotten the closest to in both career and friendship. The only barrier between your cheek and his body is his shirt sleeve, but your arm rests against his forearm, right where the freckles taper off. There’s no resistance at all as you make yourself comfortable in the crook of his arm. 

But you hold yourself back. Even though the off-collab made you feel gutsier than before, you think that you’d pass out if you tried anything else. Besides, you feel so at peace against his arm, but too afraid to look up and see his reaction. 

The blend of peace and fear churns in your heart as it dawns on you: you were wrong to call this a crush. It runs far deeper than you could’ve imagined.

Vox says something with finality. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, but the words go unregistered. As he spoke, his eyes drifted around with his body language, but he snaps to look at Ike expectantly. You swear his smirk gets a little more mischievous as he does. 

The air stills, even though you know eyes aren’t on you, just the man you lean on. It stays frozen as Ike waits to respond. You still don’t have the heart to look up at him and break your selfish, unrequited fantasy.

You just want to stay here, unresisted.

Ike deadpans. “Anyways.”

Just like that, the moment is over, and Mika laughing at Vox striking out clears the air around you. But Vox’s eyes fall to you for just a split second as he moves in his seat. Frost settles down your back at the thought that he knows, but there’s a solid chance he hasn’t connected the dots. You pray he hasn’t.

Then you see Fox Mom herself right behind him, and she shoots you a shit-eating grin with a hand over her heart and a glass in the other. 

No doubt about it. You’re screwed. 

The frost turns to glaciers and burns into hot shame all at once. You love Nina, you really do, and you’d always consider her a good friend before coworker. However, she’s known for fishing around for any crumb of fanservice, and she gets straight to the point whenever she eggs it on, not to mention how she loves to tease her kids on just about anything. You are never going to hear the end of this if she can help it.

You really don’t know what you expected. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, even the chat. You can’t help but feel bitter. How come Uki can flirt with as many guys as he wants, you wonder, but I can’t even touch Ike without getting eyed up? 

You know the answer, but it doesn’t do anything to help the bitterness and the embarrassment, and how much you want to hide. On instinct, you take advantage of the warmth and nestle yourself deeper into Ike to hide your face, just in time as he curls his head above yours.

Nina makes a sound kind of like a fork stuck in the garbage disposal for the briefest of moments before smashing her lips together and bringing her glass to her mouth like a mute button. As if you didn’t feel seen enough. 

“Find any other questions, Uki-senpai?” Aia’s nose is buried in her phone, and God, you could kiss her for changing the subject. As much as she poked fun about you about Ike, she was still a total angel and a ride-or-die all at once. 

“Oh, I have questions,” Uki says. Luckily, he’s graceful enough to leave it at that. “Twitter wants to know first impressions for everyone that hasn’t off-collabed before.”

Ren speaks. “I think the only person I’ve done an off-collab with before is Nina, so is it cool if I go first?”

Aia gestures for him to go on. She’s still stuck on her phone as he continues.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, but you ignore it. Then again and again and again, and when you finally check it, you understand why. When Aia, Mika and Alban first heard you spill your feelings for Ike, they made a group chat dedicated to wingmanning—or at least, that’s what they pitched it as. They tease you more than anything else, and as irritating as it gets… you have to admit, it’s nice to confide in them, and nice to know they wouldn’t hold it against you.

Anyways, Alban’s going apeshit. 

Group Chat: 💙 PENANDPAPER REAL 2K4EVER 💕 (4 Members)

Aia Amare: image.png    | 📌 2 |

Alban Knox: AKDHSLSJDKSHSA

Alban Knox: AASDFSDF

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: HAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA AAAAAAA KYAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: 💕💕💕💙💕💙💕💙💙💙💕💙💕💕💙

Alban Knox: 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Alban Knox: HOW ARE YOU GUYSS NOT LOSING YUOR MINDSA BOUT THIS

Aia Amare: I AM

Me: omfg did you seriously get a picture of us 

Alban Knox: WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGGG DONT CHDCK THIS GC    | 👆 1 |

Me: wtf did you expect you’re spamming 

Alban Knox: YOU AR ELITERALLY CUDDLNG GO FOCUS ON THAY JOT US

Me: we are not cuddling

Alban Knox: YOU ARE

Aia Amare: YOU ARE

Mika Melatika pinned a message.     | 🖕 1 |

Me: mika wth you too? 😭 

Mika Melatika: image.png

Me: did you srsly take a selfie with us in the background

Mika Melatika: YES this needs to be immortalized

Me: you people suck    | 🥰 3 |

Alban Knox: GET THAT NOVELIST BUSSY!!!!

Aia Amare: As if you aren’t about to save that picture yourself~

Alban Knox: NOVELUSSY!!!!!!!!!

Fuck, she got you there. You cast a pointed look at the angelic maiden herself, or at least as pointed as you can be with a man you’re scared to love wrapped around you. She looks as satisfied as a cat pushing a glass off a counter. 

You set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and placed it behind you on the counter with a huff.

“Reader, honey, how about you?” Nina leans forward, half-lidded and as sultry as ever. She swirled her drink around in its glass. “It’s your first off-collab ever, right? I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

“Oh, well, um.” Your brain struggles to catch up. “First impressions, right…”

Aia slips you a thumbs up. You’re going to rip her a new one after this. Her, and Mika, and definitely Nina; this is the most subtle Nina’s ever been but you can tell she’s fishing for an answer here. You can take your friends figuring it out, embarrassing as it is, but you are not about to expose yourself to thousands of live viewers. 

“It’s kind of crazy actually meeting up with everyone,” you start. “I’ve known them for so long, but all online, and being able to match the voice to the face in real life, I don’t think I can actually describe it. It’s kind of surreal, but it feels so nice to just talk to them in person. Aia, Nina and Uki were the first people I met up with, and man, those three are a sight. I know everyone says it, but Uki is absolutely the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Nina and Aia are really pretty, too. Hey, Aiadmirers, did you know when your oshi laughs, she looks just as cute as she sounds?”

Aia yells. “Reader, shut up!”

“Then stop being so cute all the time, you dork!” 

“I’m not a dork! I’m cool!”

You resume, satisfied with your revenge. “Mika and Vox are both really chill. They’re kind of quiet, so if you’re just walking by, you’d think they’re two normal people just going about their days. But whenever we talk it’s always something insane. Vox sounds like a dignified gentleman and Mika is kind of like that cool girl that you want to be friends with, but if you actually pay attention, Mika’s showing Vox a picture of her insides during surgery while he’s reciting something about the Bite of ‘87. And Ren is probably one of the most straightforward people you’ll ever see. He’s so optimistic, and really expressive, too, even though most of the expressions are all different types of smiles.”

“What’s your impression of Ike?” Nina asks.

What does she expect you to say to that one, that screens can’t capture how the sun glitters through his glassy green eyes? Hearing him say your name in-person sends shockwaves through your body? How you want to kiss every little freckle he’s never mentioned before and keeps hidden under long sleeves, even though it’s the beautiful skin he lives in daily?

“Same old Ike. He’s exactly like how I expected,” you say. A total fib. 

She cocks her head. “Really? Even after all the time you’ve spent together?”

“I’m trying to hang out with everyone.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Cornered. Nina takes a long, slow drink from her glass as you scramble for a quick answer that won’t immediately out you. “Whenever I talk to Ike, he’s really emotive. You can tell what he’s thinking before he says anything. He also has a good sense of style, so he’s fun to go shopping with, and honestly, fun to do anything with. He’s someone you can always have a good time with, and always makes you feel so comfortable around him. Ike’s magnetic.”

Mika muffles a coo behind you. You’re going to kill her if you survive this stream.

“That’s very sweet, Reader,” Nina replies. “Hear that, Ike?”

“Yes, I did.” He sounds strained.

“Got any feelings about it?”

“Yes? I mean—er, thanks?” You feel Ike’s head rustle. “I, umm. What am I supposed to say about that?”

“I don’t know. I just think that about you, that’s all…”

“Aww, cute. I love that you love each other,” Nina muses. 

Ike spits out, “It’s not like that!” Just as you admit, “Yeah, I guess so.”

You process his words too late, though, and even as you sputter the ukulele music cuts out just in time with Nina and Mika’s unfiltered fangirl squeals. Ren’s palms mute the chord as his eyes go wide. Aia is already on her phone with her jaw to the floor and Uki throws a look at Nina while he mouths, did that just happen? 

“I-I mean!” Your throat goes dry and Ike lurches away from you when Vox gleefully shakes Nina like a rag doll. “I—wh—Ike, I mean, of course I love you—“ Mika screams again— “As a friend!”

When you turn to face Ike, he’s curled up into a ball on the barstool with his shirt collar over his face. Even as you feel the blood rush to your face, you keep shouting. That’s all you have left. You’re live. “Like, we’re best friends on and off stream and I love you!”

He mutters something, but you can’t tell what. Only his neck and the tips of his ears poke out from his shirt. Were they always that red?

You repeat yourself. “I said, we’re best friends and I love you, so much!”

“And I said, I know, thank you, I love you too, Reader!” Ike jerks out to face you as he cries. He looks like a tomato. 

Then he buries his face into his hands and squeaks like how he always does when something’s too cute to handle, or he’s got too many emotions he needs to let out. “You can’t see me, I’m too embarrassed. I’m hiding forever and I’m never coming out.”

You hope the ground swallows you up and you never have to confront this moment again. 

Uki hisses under his breath and muffles Ren's ukulele. You don't know what he said, but you realize all too late that the alien prince himself was laying down the first few notes of “Fly Me To The Moon.”

While you slump and fold your arms over your face on the counter in pure embarrassment, Aia stands up and commandeers the mic. She slaps a hand over Mika’s mouth to muffle the scream. “Man, bummer that Ike-senpai is gone from us forever, but you know what else might be gone forever if you don’t get it now? The sponsor for this stream, our current limited-edition Nijisanji voice packs!”

And as much as you could kiss her yet again for changing the subject, you can’t get over how everything blew up in the last five minutes, and groan into your arms instead. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The stream passed, luckily, without a hitch after that. No one asked any questions, but it was pretty damn clear everyone in the room had an idea of what just happened, and the impending shitstorm. In fact, it was so clear that when you stalked off to your room to sulk, no one made a fuss, and when you realized ten minutes into your sulking session that you left your phone on the counter, you figured it wasn’t worth it to show your face again until after you finished your pity party. 

The entire time, you laid in your bed with a pillow over your face so you could pretend like you were being absorbed into the sweet embrace of death. Overdramatic, sure, but you figured you were justified. 

Without your phone, you had no way to check exactly how bad the fallout was on Twitter. The poor Pen and Paper tags were sure to be flooded with fans imagining a happy ending to that stint you’d never be able to experience yourself, like salt in the wound. Not to mention, it was a huge seven-person off-collab! It didn’t just end with the Pen and Paper fans. No, it would extend past the Bookworms and the Quilldren, and certainly to the rest of the fandoms with an oshi in this Airbnb. Maybe even the offshoot viewers who don’t regularly watch your content, but made an exception for the off-collab, or, you know, the ones who have no idea who you or Ike are but can’t get enough of the whole accidental-confession-live-on-stream thing. Forget Nina; the entire Vtuber community is never, ever, ever going to live this down. 

Ike sounded so distraught, too. You wanted to kick yourself for it. Not only did you make a fool of yourself, but he got caught in the crossfire just because you didn’t catch yourself slipping. Not like he’d reciprocate anyways. He’s always been bad at taking compliments, but you keep thinking about how embarrassed he was about you loving him. 

All your frustration and humiliation coursed through the darkness under your pillow, and you stew so bitterly that you don’t even dream when you fall asleep. 

You just wake up groggy and exhausted, but too restless to go back to sleep. You look out the window, and the stars have barely come out to play in the early night sky. 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, that impromptu nap made you tired of brooding. Besides, you can’t hide from your friends forever. Hopelessly in love or not, they’re still your friends, and even if you decided to stream during the trip, this off-collab was always about spending time with them instead of worrying over your online presence. 

It takes you half an hour to hype yourself up, but eventually, you open your door and step out into the hall. 

You can already hear voices further away in the Airbnb. You place one of them as Nina, and after her, a baritone that could only belong to Vox. 

“…Fuck Twitter, they’re going to forget about it in two weeks or less anyways.” You overhear as you walk down the hall of rooms and closer to the living room. You’ve heard Vox passionate before, but never this serious as well. “Besides, what exactly did they say?”

A mumble. You can’t place the words, but you bristle when you recognize the voice. That’s unmistakably Ike. 

“See? Again, I’m so sorry. I was out of line, and I forgot my place. I shouldn’t have interrogated them like that,” Nina says. “But you’re overthinking what they said.”

Another mumble. By now, you’re in the kitchen. You lift your phone from where you left it, and hold your fingers over the half of the screen where your notifications appear as you check the time. It’s barely 11 PM. 

The kitchen and living room are connected, with plenty of seating space all around. That was why Mika’s travel laptop was still on the counter and plugged into the wall from the stream earlier, but on the other side of the wall from the kitchen, you noticed an open window and silhouettes from it. Four people sat on the shallow roof overlooking the uneven ground plenty of feet under the building. A pair of fox ears twitch at the night wind as they watched the stars grow brighter in the sky. 

You look through the fridge. You’re peckish, but if you were to be honest with yourself, you’re trying to stay quiet for a reason. 

There’s a huff. “Oh my god, dude. Just tell Reader already.”

You stand up a little straighter. Mika was with them? Were they talking about you?

“There’s nothing to be said, Mika!” Ike huffs back. “I’m screwed anyways. Just drop it, okay? I don’t need this getting in the way of what was supposed to be just a normal trip.”

“You can’t keep running away forever. Just act like an adult and tell them. It’s going to be fine, I swear.”

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“Well…” Mika trails off. “I can’t say. I just know, okay?”

“Uh-huh. And I know I’m screwed.” The wind rustles outside. You stay motionless. “Just two weeks. Can I please just have two weeks where I don’t have to worry about this until the trip is over.”

It’s a question, but he says it with such exasperation that no one can consider any other answers. 

“Fine.” Nina relinquishes. “Have it your way. I’m just worried for you two.”

“It’s going to work out, Ike. But I’m tired.” Vox stifles a yawn. “Tomorrow is going to be better. Let it go for the night and come back to it once you’re in better shape, and just remember. It’s going to work out.”

“Thanks, Vox.”

“Now get in here.”

You hear shuffling fabric before the two men start yelling. Vox cackles while Ike cries through gritted teeth. “Dang it, Vox, I’m going to shove you off this roof!”

“Get ruffled, idiot! That’s your fault for trusting me!”

“I just wanted a hug!”

You snicker under your breath. Vox loves to ruffle Ike’s hair despite the latter’s protests, though he tends to accept it instead of shove him off like anyone else that would dare. Besides, as dreary as Ike sounded during that conversation, he nearly sounded like his old self as Vox and the others laughed.

“I think I’ll go too. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.”

“Mm, I’m still pretty awake. Wanna keep looking at the sky with me, Ike?”

“Sure. Here, Nina, let me move out of the way…”

Shuffling turns to footsteps, and brings you back to reality. You busy yourself looking through the paltry groceries.

The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder, until they become a hollow click on the hardwood floor. Nina crawls through the window, but stops in her tracks with a startled noise.

You turn around and nod as casually as possible. “Oh, hey, Nina.”

Vox is also halfway through the window, and his eyes go comically wide as he forgets how to move. “Oh. Hey. Reader. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah! Um!” Nina coughs long enough to make you uncomfortable. “What are you doing here?”

“Took a nap. Got hungry.” It’s not a lie. You grope around in the fridge and breathe a sigh of relief when you see a stick of string cheese in your hands. “You guys just hanging out?”

Nina nods. “Yeah, we were on the roof. It’s getting late, though. You should get some rest for tomorrow—“

Vox elbows her. “But not after looking at the sky for a little bit. It’s beautiful. Very clear. Romantic, even. The architects did a wonderful job placing this house right at the perfect angle to watch the stars rise. Did I mention it was romantic?”

You act natural and take a big bite out of the string cheese. “Once or twice. Is it the seniors’ bedtime?”

“You got me,” Vox says. 

“I love going to sleep early and giving my kids private time before bed to reflect and hold deep conversations with one another about their feelings,” Nina says. “And also nighttime face masks.”

“Woo, skincare, what she said.” 

“Hey, by the way, Reader, honey, did you hear anything we talked about?”

“No,” you lie.

“Cool,” Vox says. You eat the rest of the string cheese in one bite. “Good for you. And goodnight, Reader.” He dusts himself off before casting his golden gaze down at you. “Be nice, will you?”

Shivers go down your back. You have a feeling he’s referring to something unspoken. “I will.”

“That’s my sweet thing,” he purrs. “Anyways, I’m going the fuck to beddy bye. Honk shoo, Reader, don’t stay up too late.”

Vox struts off with dark hair flowing behind him and the scent of his aftershave in the air. He leaves you to stand awkwardly next to Nina. 

Suddenly, she takes you by your shoulders and forces you in front of her. You blurt out an unflattering startled noise before she gets right up in your face and stares dead into your eyes.  

“Please be good,” she says darkly. Was that a threat? “Please be so, so good to my baby.”

“I will,” you say, more out of fear than anything else.

She blinks once, then she’s back to the doting mother you know and love. She squeezes your shoulders. “Thank you, honey! Sweet dreams!”

And just like the Voice Demon before her, Nina bounds off to her room. 

Huh. That was weird. Nonetheless, you’re alone in the living room, and you can see the outline of Ike and Mika sitting on the roof in silence. 

You lightly knock on the side of the window. They both perk up at the sound. “Cool if I join you?”

Mika responds quickly. “Sure! Watch your step, Reader. The roof isn’t that steep but it would be awkward if you ate shit.”

“Agreed.” You step onto the tiling, and shift your body to match the angle. You feel like a newborn deer learning to walk. Luckily, Nina and Vox leaving meant that there was more than enough space for you right next to the window. 

Ike sits between you and Mika. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…” 

‘Pretty’ is putting it mildly. The stars are so clear tonight, and scatter across the sky like sequins. The Airbnb was located further away from the heart of the city, so the darkness only amplified how bright the stars shone against the stark night. A breeze drags through the air and fallen leaves rustle between the grass. 

“This is so nice.” Comfort settles into you like the breeze in your hair. “I love it.”

Ike sighs. “Right? It’s so peaceful.”

“And there’s so many more stars out here than there are in the city.”

“It makes you want to just zone out and cool down.”

“Yeah, totally.” Mika coughs. “Huh! Cool! Well, I’m tired now. Just keep staying out here and enjoy the sky, I’m going to bed. Enjoy yourselves.”

Mika inelegantly shuffles around your bodies and slips back inside before either of you can properly tell her goodnight. 

Ike cocks his head as he watches her stumble through the window. “She just said she would stay out…”

“Hm?”

“Ah, nothing. Just thinking to myself.”

With the extra space, Ike leans back and lays along the roof. The stars cast a dreamy glow over his soft smile as he continues. “It really is something that just makes you want to have a deep conversation, or just think, you know?”

You hum in agreement. You get what he means, but there’s only one topic you can imagine having a deep conversation about right now, and it’s the very one you brooded over earlier that day. 

But Ike is Ike. He’s rational and calm and kind, and laughs at your stupid jokes, and texts you first before any of your other mutual friends. The night turns the tips of his hair bluer than usual, and the stars remind you of the freckles hidden along his creamy skin. His glasses reflect the galaxy above.

Even though today’s stream was embarrassing, you know Ike trusts you enough to tell you if you’ve ever crossed a boundary. After all, it’s commonplace to discuss limits on and off stream as soon as possible, and your friendship was so strong that you’ve both opened up to one another. He’d let you know if the whole cuddling thing was too much. Besides, he didn’t resist. He even rested his head on yours. That has to account for something, right?

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a gentle tug on the sleeve of your hoodie. It’s Ike. He asks, “Lay down with me?”

A wave of fondness washes over you like the tide. He’s cute when he’s earnest like this. You get as comfortable as you can on the tiling, and when you still, you hear something shift before your hand grows warm. Ike scooted closer to you, and placed his pinky finger over yours. 

This is bliss. A beautiful sight with a beautiful boy next to you. Your best friend. 

“I do love you,” you say. 

It just feels right to say. 

Ike is silent. He doesn’t make a single sound as you stare up at the stars and the blackened sky. The breeze rocks a tree, and as the leaves part, you see the moon for the first time: one thin, waning crescent that blends into the darkness. 

Ike’s head is turned away from you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. 

“…I don’t know what you mean,” he admits. “You do? As a friend?”

“We’ve always been friends.”

“Just that?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking me, Ike.”

“N-never mind. I’m sorry, am I making it weird?”

“No, you could never make it weird.” The colors of the view gloss together. You feel like a balloon slowly deflating. “Feels like that’s all I’m doing lately, though.”

Neither of you say anything. 

This was a bad idea. 

You swear the rustling leaves mock you. 

“Wait.” Ike practically snatches your hand up. “Wait, Reader, are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah. I’m saying that I love you.”

Ike stares at you, and if you had to choose just one word to describe his expression, it’s stricken. His mouth is slightly parted, and his shocked eyes drive holes through your skin, leaving you exposed. The brief stutter that escapes him sounds like it was dredged out from frozen, murky waters. “I—”

He drops your hand and turns away. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, barely audible. “This is… this is a lot.”

“I’m sorry too, this was a stupid idea. What was I thinking?” You get on your feet, but the slope makes what could’ve been a fluid motion into a stumbling, slow rise, as if your legs weren’t jelly enough already. You inch to the window mortified. “I think I should go. Sorry to bother you.”

You don’t dare to glance at him before you step back inside, not even when he calls your name halfway through the window.

Once you’re back in the living room, you cover your face, then drag your hands through your hair. You can’t even begin to describe how exhausted you feel. This is heartbreak, isn’t it?

You blink furiously, and the outline of a figure by the fridge comes into view. 

“Reader?” Mika asks. She has a stick of string cheese in her hand, but walks to you. “Reader, what happened—”

You take her empty hand and pace to your room. You open the door. “Are you okay?”

The second it shuts, your breath hitches. Mika doesn’t hesitate to take you in her arms. She holds you as the first tear falls, and you begin to cry.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You wake up the next day sprawled in your bed, even though the blankets are tucked comfortably around you. On the floor is a pillow and another pile of blankets, and when you recognize the dark hair tied into a loose ponytail, the memories of last night come rushing back.

What an awful night. Awful decisions all day, really, and all of them ones you made. You really don’t know what you were thinking. You groan at the memory.

“Reader?” Mika perks up. Her phone is in her hands, but she sits up level to your face on the floor. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

Another groan.

“Yeah, I figured,” she says. “Nina, Vox and Ike went out to do their own thing, and I think Ren and Uki are cafe-hopping. It’s just you, me and Aia in the house right now.”

You rub the sleepy out of your eyes. “That’s cool, I guess.” You cast a downward glance to Mika’s makeshift bed on the floor. “Sorry for being a nuisance.”

“You’re not a nuisance, Reader, don’t say that.” She nudges you. “We’re friends. It’s what friends do. Speaking of, do you want Aia to come by? And Alban’s online, so I can call him, too. If you want.”

“It’d be nice…”

Less than ten minutes pass before Aia shows up at your door with breakfast sandwiches and orange juice. All three of you sit on the blanketed floor while Mika voice calls Alban on her phone. A pot of coffee brews over speakerphone as you recount last night. 

“...And to make things worse, we just streamed yesterday,” you explain. “God, I should check Twitter. There’s got to be a million people with eyes on our ship tag, and ugh, I hate thinking about how many weirdos are going to push a ship that can’t work out IRL.”

“I can check it for you,” Aia offers. You hand her your phone. “You remember your Twitter password?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Sorry in advance.” She deletes the app off your home screen.

You begin to protest, but she turns off the phone and sets it aside, out of your reach. “You’re off the clock, Reader! Work troubles can wait until you’re back online, and that includes doomscrolling. You can redownload it when you’re in a better headspace.”

“I really hate admitting you’re right.”

“Shit, Reader,” Alban finally says. “He seriously dropped the ball. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I really thought he would get it, but it took him so long to piece it together, like he never thought about us like that before. I should’ve known it was just me. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, you’re hurt,” Mika says. “It’s understandable, but that still doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“Is it wrong that I feel like I deserve it? I mean, I knew day one that this wouldn’t work out. We work together online, and we have fans that ship us with each other and the rest of this company, for fuck’s sake. Getting heartbroken was inevitable and I still went for it. Either I’m a glutton for pain or I’m just plain clueless.”

Alban’s voice is distant from the phone as he messes with his coffee maker. You can’t properly hear him under his breath and over the pot, but if you could, you could’ve heard him mumble, Trust me, you’re not the only clueless one here.

But he returns back at the phone, and you’re totally oblivious. “You can’t choose who you fall for,” he says. “It was really that bad?”

“It took him like a minute to realize I was confessing. And then when he realized it, he apologized to me.”

Aia straightens. “Did he say no?”

“Not really, but why would he apologize if he reciprocated?”

Aia exchanges a look with Mika. Alban grumbles. “No fucking way.”

“Tell me exactly how he reacted,” Aia instructs. She plowed through her sandwich during the conversation, but she left the remaining half on her plate forgotten as she laced her fingers together and leaned forward like a calculated boss. 

“It was like he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying at first. He asked if I meant it as friends, until he asked me if I liked him. And when I told him I loved him in response, he was so shocked that he let go of my hand, so I left.”

“No fucking way,” Alban repeats, and groans as he drawls out his words. You can practically hear him drag his hands over his face. “No fucking way. Ikeeeee. He seriously dropped the ball.”

“I know. I can’t believe it.”

Aia takes both of your hands in her own. “Reader, I’m not even saying this to hurt you, but this is the clumsiest confession I’ve ever heard of.”

You squint. “Right, that makes me feel so much better.”

“I’m really not! You know what this sounds like? Miscommunication,” she declares. “You didn’t get a solid yes or no. So now it’s going to be awkward between you two until you get an actual answer to the confession, or at least some kind of resolution. You wanna know what I think? It sounds like he didn’t even believe what he was hearing before you left. Which, by the way, is a common response to not just confessions but other major news, so chances are you didn’t blow up your friendship as hard as you thought.”

“She has a point,” Alban says. “I believe you, Reader, but Ike isn’t the type of person to just crush other people’s feelings like that. You just woke up, right?”

“I haven’t even left my room yet. Mika says everyone else is out of the house. He’s with Vox and Nina, I think.”

“So then he hasn’t had a chance to talk to you since the confession,” he continues. “And those three are really close. I’m willing to bet they’re helping him manage it, ‘cause it sounds like he’s going through it just as confused as you are.”

You stare at the floor. Hope feels foreign, yet you can’t help but wonder. You struggle to remember the exact way Ike reacted last night, but you really can’t tell what facts were clouded over by the rejection. A rejection that possibly didn’t even happen, mind you. The confusion and regret blurs over everything like water on wet ink.

“You really think so?” You quietly ask.

Aia nods, and Alban agrees over the phone.

Mika pipes up, a glass of juice in her hands. “Here’s my take. We can theorize as much as we want, but none of us really know what Ike’s thinking about, least of all you. Especially since you didn’t actually resolve anything, and that tension is going to eat at you until you get an answer or it actually damages your friendship. You ask me, the next best thing you can do is bring it up.”

She takes a sip of her juice and leaves you to absorb her advice. 

You mull it over along with the memory of last night. “He called my name as I left.”

Alban chokes on his coffee. “He called your name?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t respond.”

“Oh my God. READER!” He shouts so loud that Mika turns the volume down. “I’m going to lose it. I’m actually freaking it right now. Reader!”

“What?”

“Fuck what Mika said earlier, you are stupid!”

“Hey!”

“I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you are so stupid. He was trying to talk to you!”

Your face goes through a handful of emotions as you sputter. “Are you serious, Alban?”

“Yes! Mika, Aia, back me up.”

Aia crinkles her nose. “I did just say it sounded like a total miscommunication.”

Meanwhile, Mika twirls a lock of red-and-black hair between her finger, distracting herself. She hesitates, trying to figure out exactly how she wants to say her piece, before she simply shakes her head and stills. “Just talk to him.”

“Which is easier said than done.” Your shoulders roll back as you stare up at the ceiling, your hands supporting you as you lean. Even with your friends’ encouragement, the memory of how hard you blew it last night still haunts you. It’s even worse than starting at ground zero; you’ve already tasted failure once, and you’re hesitant to embarrass yourself again. 

That stricken look Ike gave you flashes across your sight every time you blink. What was he thinking when he stared at you like that? You can’t tell if the disgust is true or if your anxieties are getting the best of you.

The best solution to anxieties, however, is looking at the facts—or at least, what isn’t tainted by your bias. Your friends mentioned there was nothing wrong with a workplace romance, and as much as the stream made you want to cringe, no one seemed put off by it. Alban and Aia are set on getting you and Ike to talk, and so is Mika. In fact, Mika spoke with Ike as well as Vox and Nina last night before you entered, and even if you had no idea what those four were talking about, you still picked up your name and that apparently Ike had something to tell you.

Pieces start to fall into place when you consider the three around you, staging an intervention over a late breakfast. Aia always gets you in situations where you can be close to Ike and bails you out when it gets awkward, and as much as he won’t get off your back about it, Alban gave you great advice between all his teasing. Mika was nosy at first when she learned about your feelings, but now that you think about it, she’s been incredibly tactful ever since the off-collab began. 

You can’t help but snicker as you connect the dots. “Is this the first time you guys actually started wingmanning for me?”

Aia purses her lips. “Hey, not the first. Remember when we made that group chat? We’ve always been your wingmen.”

“I know. But you guys are seriously helping,” you say. “Thanks. Though I do wonder, Mika…”

She perks up as you say her name. “Be real with me. Do you know more than you’re letting on?”

She flinches. Alban’s fingers snap over the phone. “Busted.”

Mika holds her hands up like a criminal caught in the act, but there’s a loose, sly smile hanging on her face. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

“What do you mean, it’s not your place to say?”

“I’m sorry, Reader, but I made a promise not to spill, and I’ve been doing way too much behind the scenes to break the promise like that. Just do me a favor and talk to the guy, will you? That’s the best I can tell you.” Mika rests her head in a hand, and the smirk looks even more knowing. “And if you can’t figure it out after that, then you’re definitely stupid.”

You bluster. “I’m not stupid!” 

“Still remains to be seen.” Aia gently flicks your forehead. “But you do look a lot better. How are you feeling now?”

Aside from the fading pain on your forehead? You’re surprised at how much lighter you feel now that you unloaded all your worries with your friends. The rejection still stings, and you’re not exactly confident, but, well, you’re smiling. The clean, tangy taste of orange juice lingers between your tongue. Aia and Mika sitting on the pile of blankets reminds you that regardless of your love life, they’d stay by your side until the bitter end, and Alban’s voice keeps you connected with your friends no matter where in the world you are.

You snatch Aia’s half-eaten sandwich off her plate and sink your teeth into the bread. She cries out in protest. “Hey!”

“Better now.” You set the sandwich back where you found it. Even though your future with Ike looks cloudy, the smile doesn’t leave. “Don’t flick me.”

“Speaking of.” Mika picks up the phone and scrolls through her messages. “Nina just texted that she, Vox and Ike will come back in an hour or less. Reader, are you up for this?”

“What do you mean, ‘up for this?’”

“Just seeing Ike again. It was a weird night,” she says. “I stand by what I said, but if it’s going to be too much too soon, then Aia and I can cover for you until you feel better.”

“I don’t know.” That’s what gets your expression to sink from light to thoughtful. “I think I want to take your advice. I just don’t know if I’m ready to talk it out yet.”

“Still wanna hang out with us or take a moment to yourself?”

“I think I’d just go back to moping if I was alone,” you joke.

“Cool. Let me go grab some nail polish Nina gave me yesterday.” Mika rises and strides to the door. “You have a steadier hand than me. And Nina said the color suits me more than her.”

Aia’s face lights up. She happily cries ”Girls’ night!” even though it’s barely noon and Alban is decidedly not a girl, but then he croons something in a valley girl accent so strong you can’t even tell what he’s saying. Scratch that; he’s a girl by association.

When he drawls out one long “Yaaaaaas, bestie!” you can’t help but laugh. Your love life is in shambles, but at least your friendships are solid as hell. You’d give the world for these three.

Mika returns a moment later, travel-sized nail supplies in her arms and a totally unrelated topic on the mind. The sharp scent of the lacquer startles you out of your thoughts as you uncap the bottle and Mika splays her hands out, and Alban and Aia air their opinions on something entertainingly dumb. 

Nina was right: this color is stunning on Mika. You paint Aia’s nails too, and halfway through her second hand, you hear the front door open, the end of an intelligible conversation, and telltale footsteps, each diverting across the house. The girls’ eyes flicker to you. You know they’re trying to read your expression, but you concentrate on how the brushstrokes pool together into one smooth coat. Your thoughts are a storm and you can’t even pick out the emotion commanding it. 

So you keep joking along instead and focus on the nail polish, refusing to give the storm an opportunity to strike. Alban quips off of you, and the moment passes as Mika and Aia return to the conversation. 

That is, until half an hour later when you hear a knock on the door. Mika cocks her head, a silent question, and when you nod she stands. Her nails dried when you finished Aia’s, and dot the doorknob as she cracks it open. A tiny margin of light from the hallway shines into your room, and you realize she positioned herself square in front of the threshold, shielding you from the person on the other side. 

She talks evenly. “Hey, welcome back.”

“Thanks. Is Reader here?”

Your mind thunders as you register the voice. You can only see the leg of his jeans behind Mika, but you recognize Ike’s voice on the other side. 

Aia shuffles by as a second shield. “Need them for something?”

“Kind of,” Ike says. “Do you mind if I talk to them?”

“I don’t know, what’s it about—“

“Aia, you can lay off him.” You call from your corner of the room. “You too, Mika.”

“Whatever you say. Just let me just grab my stuff…”

Mika grabs the nail supplies and deafens on Discord, but doesn’t even think to pick up the blankets along the ground. Instead, she glides to you and whispers under her breath. “We’re rooting for you. Send us a text if you need anything, okay?”

You nod. Aia slips past the threshold, but not without shooting you a thumbs up and mouthing ‘good luck.’ Not even a second later, your phone buzzes, and you catch Alban’s contact sending you an encouraging message in all-caps. 

“See you later!” Aia chirps. “Play nice, you two.”

The scent of the lacquer follows them as they leave, and the sound of their footsteps fade in time. 

Still in the doorway, Ike raises a hand to fidget with the chain along his glasses. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Oh! Come in. Sit anywhere, I don’t mind.”

You stay planted on the floor like how you were with your friends, and Ike sits next to you. You face the wall in front while he gets comfortable.

No words are exchanged as Ike maneuvers around the blankets, and eventually settles down with his back on the floor and head resting on a pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The light is off, but the blinds filter in thin beams of sunlight that cross over the room and the edge of his collar like a grid. 

“Lay with me?” He asks. Then it strikes you like ringing metal; you sit next to each other in the same positions as that night on the roof. 

Suddenly Ike raises his hands like static. “Not that you have to! I just figured it would be good to get comfortable and all, you know?” Ike hastily explains, then clears his throat. “I wanted to talk. About last night, I mean.”

Your chest flutters at the mention of it, but you remember all your friends’ encouragement. Here he is, the novelist of your (heartbroken) dreams, already bringing up the topic you dread to mention. You need to take this chance to face it head-on, now or never. 

You glide down like the ceiling is full of stars. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“A lot, honestly. I don’t know how to go about it, but first of all, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms. “You said that enough last night.”

“Not like that! I mean I’m sorry I acted the way I did. I think I made every wrong choice once you said that you… that.” He shovels a hand through his hair. “I’m making it weird again. I should apologize for that, too, it’s just kind of embarrassing saying out loud that you, um, you loved me. Not that you should be embarrassed. I mean, I get it if you are, but that took a lot of guts. You should be proud of that. I admire you for that.”

“Slow down. What are you even saying?”

“What I wish I said last night. More than anything else, I’m sorry I got caught off-guard. I must’ve been so standoffish, because my idiot brain just didn’t believe what I was hearing until it was too late and the damage was already done.” Hair the color of ash and ocean falls over his face. “Honestly, I can’t believe it now.”

“I get it. Bad idea from me. Can we move on from that yet?”

“I don’t think it was a bad idea at all. I just had no idea that you liked me.”

“Give me some time and I’ll get over it, eventually. I’m not going to let it get in the way of working with you, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”

“No, that’s not it either! I—“

Ike’s eyes squeeze shut. His voice is so quiet, you can’t discern what he’s saying. “…Actually, I’m…”

“Repeat that?”

“I’m happy. Really happy,” Ike says. His pitch rises like a balloon floating up into space, struggling to stay composed. “I’m not good at saying it, but I meant it when I said… when I said it during the stream.”

You wave a hand in the air. “It was weird timing, and I know you mean it like a friend,” you reply. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into saying it, and just being friends is fine. Even though I’m a loser that messed up just about everything.”

The hand catches in midair. Doll-like fingers weave through your grasp, and turn your touch warm as Ike turns to look at you. “Not with me. Don’t say that about yourself, okay?” 

You stare at how easily he held your hand, and how his fingers cradle your heart between the palms. The corners of Ike’s eyes are narrowed, two beads of peridot stone that can see through every little line of text between your pages, but there’s gentleness under his glasses. Something uncertain and fluffy. Softened like a lamb even though he leaves you defenseless. 

You don’t know what to say. Ike is beautiful and kind and handsome and thoughtful when he’s earnest like this. He’s got you stupid in the head and wrapped around his pinky finger, and doesn’t have a single clue.

Peridot sparkles. “You’re so much more than that. You don’t mess things up, Reader. I’m in love with you.”

Your mouth goes dry and your tongue is still tied. Forget speechlessness; the man took your own damn thoughts away. Your hand remains frozen in air with Ike’s. If it weren’t for the light drag of one of his fingernails along your skin, then you would have figured he took your senses as well.

But the drag ends, and the fingers unlace themselves, and chilled air fills in the gaps Ike once held close. The tips of his fingers rest at the curve of your palm for just one second more before they drift away.

The glint in his eyes dulls. His hand falls to his chest, over his heart, just as slow as he parted. The uncertainty took over, and now it’s like staring at a cloud that doesn’t know if it should rain. Ike’s gaze lowers to his heart. There’s a stretch of silence and motionlessness as he stares at where your touch once was, and you’re paralyzed where you lay.

Ike's hand curls in on itself, too loose to make a fist, and his lashes sink over his eyes. His mouth is set into a flat line, but the cheeks are dusted in pinks and reds and peppered freckles in-between, demure and shy all the while.

He turns his face away soon after that. Another break of silence, and he shuffles again, with your vision on his back as if it were a hiding place.

It startles you out of your stupor. The gridded sunlight lets you analyze what you missed. After months of thinking your feelings would never be reciprocated, Ike thought of you just the same. He’s always been in your corner, and you would go to the ends of the earth for him, and everything is in its perfect position. But his back is still turned, and the memory of last night—your confession, and his inaction—it rushes to your head.

So you reach out instead.

Maybe it’s a little selfish. You’re tired of bumbling around and concealing your true feelings, and now that everything's out in the open, you aren’t about to let go without resolution.

But Ike is your best friend, and the man you fell in love with. There was no way you’d ever let go in the first place.

You wrap your arms around his back and hug Ike.

“I think I get why you were so taken aback last night,” you whisper. Even though you’re alone with Ike, you still say it like a secret. “I can barely believe it myself.”

Your warmth is inviting, and every second that passes is another defense downed. Your head perches right above his neck and along his shoulder. It’s not your first hug with Ike at all, but there’s only been so many since you first met him in person that it still feels special, and with your bodies flush to the floor, it’s intimate. His eyes are averted and one cheek lays down on the blankets, but the tips of his ears glow scarlet under his jewelry. 

“I’m glad you were patient with me. I really didn’t think I had a chance with you. You know, the long distance and the company, and you know, the standard pining fare. I’m really lucky.” A smile slips through your words. “I’ll stay with you, okay? So take all the time you need.”

Ike chuckles. Even his laughter is blushy-bashful. “I’m just so happy you feel the same, too. I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

His body curls as he lays, and your legs brush along his as you cuddle. Holding him makes it feel like he was made to fit in your arms. You sigh. “I love when you can’t contain it. It’s so cute.” 

Ike squeaks at that, and unwittingly proves your point. “It feels so good to say that out loud. I mean, you’re okay with it, right?” A nod. “And you’re okay with… I don’t know. Are we still friends?”

“Of course we are, no matter what. You said you loved me first, so let me say this one?” 

You have a feeling you know what’s coming next. You hug him even tighter.

“Reader, let’s go out. I don’t want this feeling to end,” he confesses, and your world turns into rose and blush. “Can we?”

Though you expected it, he still takes your breath away—until he taps you on the hand. “Come on, say something before my heart explodes!”

“Mine already did! I can’t even think straight, and—I’d love that. I really want this.”

Another squeal breaks out as Ike buries his head into a blanket, and your heart soars as he melts. He resembles a swaddled-up kitten, and the rays of sunlight line his silhouette. The fluffy blanket reminds you of an angel’s downy wings along his kitten features. You can’t even see his face between the blanket and his hair, but his squeal continues, muted through the blanket as he swoons. 

Somehow that only makes you feel even more flustered. “No, don’t hide! I want to see you!”

Maybe it would’ve been better for your heart if he stayed put, because when Ike rises—with disheveled hair and glitter in his eyes the color of seaglass, and jewelry that frames his red face, and that galaxy of freckles you hold so dear and shine like stars between his blush—you feel your heart stop. Again.

“When did you start having this effect on me?” You ask, mesmerized, and before you know it you thumb over one of his rosy cheeks. “Your freckles are so beautiful.”

He sheepishly grins. “They don’t really show up online. They’re pale.”

“Never noticed them until I met you in person. I love them. I love you.”

The grin gets a little wider. One of his fingers grazes along the corner of your ear. Has his hand always been along your jawline?

Ike’s eyes are shining under the grid of sunlight. The lashes flit just a bit lower from your gaze. “Reader, can we…?”

You close your eyes.

And when Ike’s lips graze your own, you smile on instinct before you remember to kiss back. 

Ike brings you near, searching for the taste of you as he continues. His touch lodges past your jawline and into your hair, and when one of the fingers grazes along your ear you’re reminded just how much you love Ike. All the yearning you hid for so long bleeds through as you sink down to his level with his head in your hand, gentle yet impassioned.

Then your face bumps against Ike’s glasses. The kiss breaks as you back away.

There’s a brief pause in the aftermath. Ike wordlessly adjusts his glasses, now knocked off-center. Despite finally getting on the same page on your relationship with Ike, you’re still as clumsy about your feelings as ever.

But the corners of your lips curve up as he inspects the lens you squished, then a barely-stifled giggle, and next thing you know, Ike’s laughing along with you, still underneath your body and with one hand in your hair while the other holds his glasses in place. He sounds as charming as he looks, and the fact that he joined you even when you chuckled out of the blue means that his mind is just as charming as well.

Not that it was breaking news. You know your best friend well, and now that you don’t need to deny your feelings any longer, you know you’ve got good taste if Ike’s under you with crinkled eyes and hearty laughter.

When you speak next, the giggles patter out between your words but the quiet delight hangs in your teeth. “Can we try that again?”

Then his lips are on yours again, and the laughter twists between the second kiss, and the third, and the fourth, all the way until you collapse on the blankets with arms around each other, staring up at the stars on the bland popcorn ceiling as adoration fills the space between you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

bonus.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Starting soon…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The chat flickers alive as a four-pointed flower, a diamond, and a thorned heart give way to the stream and the novelist behind the stinger. 

Kaidororero: welcome back ike!

Min (Ikey’s Book): 💙 IKEY IS BACK 💙

A normal broom: HI IKE

lunasmortas: 💙💙💙

viperip: ike! :_heart: :_heart: :_heart:

Sun shines through a clear day in Ike’s room onscreen, but in reality, blackout curtains block out the day outside. A sweet smile graces both Ike’s face and his model as the Quilldren welcome him home. 

He greets them, and cracks open a can of soda as he quickly scans through the chat. Obviously, the off-collab is on everyone’s minds. 

juuuuuuuuuus: did you have fun?

Kaidororero: offcollab POOOG

lunasmortas: SO CUTE :_heart: :heart:

Johnclone: Hope you had a good time!

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER REAL

Hm. A mod will eventually bonk that message. But then again, it’s inevitable that the ship would come up in chat. 

Ike takes it in stride and ignores it like any other shipper, but his heart still skips a beat. Nonetheless, he doesn’t call any attention to it. “How about that off-collab, right? I met up with my friends! Where do I even begin?”

Ike recounts his trip from the beginning, and the Quilldren react to his stories with interest. He was one of the last to arrive, so Nina, Uki and Reader picked him up from the airport, and met up with Aia, Ren, and Mika at the Airbnb. Vox was the only one to arrive after him, hot off the heels of a flight delay, but the demon was a welcome party all his own despite his exhaustion. 

“We went to karaoke once Vox got situated,” Ike explains. “Nina put that song in first so we could all let loose, and so she would have a fun voice tweet for everyone. Might as well confirm everyone that showed up, right?

“But after that, we didn’t want to stress ourselves out to perform for voice tweets instead of just having fun, so that was the only song we recorded. I wish you could’ve heard Uki and Vox’s duet, though. And while we were singing, turns out Ren packed a ukulele with him! Sometimes he would learn how to play along by ear, like a jam session. Mika knows how to play ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ too, so everyone joined in singing that while she played it. It was so much fun.”

Johnclone: Everyone sounded great!

sunblast99: uki’s voice >>>>>> everything else 💜💙

haabinae: :_tskr:

Festersk: WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT 🗣🗣

A normal broom: what did you sing?

Ike leans back in his chair. He blows a lock of hair out of his sight as he tries to think. “I remember Vox sang something by George Strait, so then we all egged him on to sing ‘Country Roads.’ He only did it once I promised to queue up ‘Toxicity’ by System of a Down afterwards.”

lunasmortas: OMG 💙💙💙

gatamiizuus: ayo?

Y A M: YESSSSSSS :_tskr: :_tskr:

haabinae: I LOVE SOAD :_fanboy:

Thornmy: SO COOL 💙

“Thank you.” He says it out of obligation. If he thinks too hard about the compliments, he’ll get embarrassed. “What else was there? I think there was some Motionless in White, and Spiritbox. Oh, and My First Story. Can’t forget My First Story.”

K. K. Soda: ooooo

Alban Knox 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : what about mcr

asper ch.: METAL SCREAM?

deeboorgur: HI ALBAN

Y A M: MCR YEAAAAA  :_glowstick_1: :_glowstick_2:

“I’m getting there, Alban!” 

Ike takes a sip while the Quilldren greet Alban. He’s not too surprised Alban seems to know more than the other viewers. He’s close with almost everyone that went on the trip, and was super active on Discord during the off-collab. The novelist lowers his soda as the chat floods in orange hearts. He wonders how Alban learned so much as an observer. He should ask. 

But that’s a question for after stream. Ike continues. “Thank Nina for that. She queued up ‘I’m Not Okay’ by My Chemical Romance, and then shoved two mics in my hands and Reader’s.”

And the chat explodes. 

Kaidororero: OMGGGGGG 💙💕

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER SO CUTE :_tskr:

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER DUET

asper ch.: AYOOOO MCR

gatamiizuus: I LOVE READER

ystariya: PEN AND PAPER MY BELOVED

“It’s a really fun song! It’s almost all clean vocals, but there’s this scream in the middle. Up until then, we sang together, but then I screamed, and Reader picked up the slack and sang the parts of the verse I couldn’t. They’re amazing.”

gatamiizuus: READER SIMPS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE

Thornmy: THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD

lunasmortas: 💙💕💙💕

ystariya: READER KARAOKE STREAM WHEN

Kaidororero: AWWWWWWW

The model on the screen doesn’t have the same glint in Ike’s eye when he talks about you. That first day of the trip was all about getting comfortable after long travel hours, and the stories went on as the days went by. Sightseeing with Aia and shopping with Uki by day, and spending the night shooting the shit with Ren until it turns into the littlest hours of the morning.

“Vox wanted to try a bunch of different restaurants with me, but you know me, ya boi is not good with most foods. So Nina usually came along in case I couldn’t finish something. She and Vox would share my leftovers.”

Something fond crosses over Ike’s face. His eyes cloud over in fog descending over a clear-sky day. “We would always talk over food about anything. I appreciate it a lot. They really get me.” The fog stills. “And over breakfast one morning, they gave me some excellent advice over something I’ve been meaning to do.”

ver*batim: ❤️💙❤️

K. K. Soda: MILORDDDDD

nroneo: :_heart:

A normal broom: upcoming project? 👀 

Johnclone: I love Nina Kosaka!

“Not a project, no. It was something I was really worried about, even when I was supposed to be taking a break with my friends,” he says. “But those two seriously helped me clear my head about it. Mika, too. Vox and Nina had a lot of nuanced advice, but Mika told it to me straight, and helped handle what I couldn’t. I’m really thankful to have them.”

His set jaw loosens. “Maybe I’ll talk about it one day.”

The model cocks to the side. Motion blurs the foggy sobriety away. With a lightness to his voice and a knowing gaze, Ike looks straight into the camera and smiles, sentimentality forgotten. The air clears. “But for now, it’s a secret~!

“Ah, now where was I? Spending time with my friends, right? Reader and I hung out often. Sometimes with others, but it ended up being the two of us more than not.”

Birds chirp outside Ike’s window in time with the hum of his PC. The backlit keyboard in front of the monitors glows the same color as the computer, a healthy blue light that tints the tips of his fingers. He usually sets it to a rainbow spectrum in his own time, but static blue is reserved for going live. It gets him in the right mindset for streaming, and makes his little apartment feel fantastical like the noble background that accompanies his model, even if it only reaches his fingertips. 

He’s sure the Ike on the screen has fingertips tinged with blue just like him, an extension of the man outside the screen but without the grittier details. Smooth, pristine hands under gloves where his are callused from guitar playing. Nothing under the model’s eyes but lashes and a line of red that brings out the pink in his eyes, very much unlike the heavy bags and sunken face from an awful delay on his flight back home. No freckles, either, but even cameras rarely pick them up on video call. Nina cooed over them the first time they met, as motherly as ever, but behind closed doors Reader was utterly fascinated with them. They mentioned something about watching blush travel around his face with the smattering of freckles in-between once or twice… maybe more? Doesn’t matter when he’s never heard that before and it repeats in his head when he catches himself daydreaming. It’s one of the best things he’s ever heard.

Vtuber Model Ike’s face doesn’t heat up like how Real Ike’s certainly is now. He clears his throat. “The weather was really nice during the entire trip, so we would always get into good conversations while walking back to where we were staying. And sometimes we didn’t want to end the conversation, so we’d just keep walking past our Airbnb until our feet hurt or it got dark, whichever came first. 

“Oh, here’s something funny. Uki really loves cafes, right? Usually he woke up early with Ren to go check out some cafes in the morning, way before the rest of us would even think of waking up. By the time everyone else woke up, they already finished their breakfast, and Uki would tell Reader about the ones to visit or skip. Whenever Uki recommended one, Reader always wanted to go themselves, so I went along to keep them company.” 

Even as his skin returns to its original shade, the sweetness sticks to his throat like the soda he’s barely touched at all. He’s wistful. He didn’t expect to miss Reader this much; after all, his relationship with them has bloomed so much ever since you first started working together, but two weeks together (including mutual close friends) changes things. It’s only been two days since he returned home, but he feels out of rhythm with them. 

He’s gotten too accustomed to them. Over the last few months, he thought he did a good job putting aside his feelings for Reader, even when Nina would tease him after every Pen and Paper collab and Vox and Mika would be right behind her, hyping him up to make a move. The fear of rejection was what motivated him to keep his close friendship with Reader without ever confessing to them.

“Reader…”

The world around him is nothing. Paused to buffer as he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he felt so happy. Just being in the same room as them makes him feel stupid, and surely he’s been acting like it. Everything he says sounds clumsy when he’s with them. After all, on that day when he owned up to the feelings he repressed for so long that he couldn’t properly react to Reader’s confession, he couldn’t say much more than how happy he was. Words fail to describe what Reader means to him, yet he’s a novelist, for crying out loud! How ironic!

“...Reader is so patient with me,” Ike says. “And they’re so considerate and dedicated. I wish I told them that earlier. It’s hard to say things out loud like this, but you only meet people like Reader once in a lifetime if you’re lucky, and even then, there’s no one quite like Reader.”

ystariya: i love reader

Kaidororero: pen and paper awwww

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER

acklmystafoot: ike is so sweet!!!

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 💙

“Aaah!”

Ike recoils like his keyboard is flaming lava. The model on the screen leans back and freezes in place while he nearly throws himself out of his chair. “R-Reader! What are you doing here?!”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : FKJLJJSLKFJDKS LMAOOOOOOOO

Johnclone: Hello Reader!

Y A M: OMG

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : just wanted to say hi

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : hi!

Festersk: LMAO

Ike sputters out nothing but empty air and nervous laughter. “Haha. Um. Hi! Welcome!”

Stupid! He wants to kick himself. He’s made improvement on verbalizing affection, and he’s comfortable with Reader, especially now that there aren’t any secrets left, but he’s still so unfamiliar with affection being returned that his heart is still doing kickflips in his chest. 

haabinae: :_blush: :_blush: :_blush:

juuuuuuuuuus: most normal pen and paper moment

Thornmy: AWWW

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : check discord

A normal broom: Oh?

“Ah, okay! Give me a second.” Ike keeps his Discord on mute, and usually disables desktop notifications when he’s live, so he’s not surprised to open the window to unread messages and some non-urgent pings. Sure enough, Reader sent him something.

Reader: because you were talking about cafes

Reader: image.png (3)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Oh I recognize these from our first date!

It’s been over a week now, but just saying he went on a date with Reader has him squeezing his legs together so his feet wouldn’t start kicking in the air. 

Reader: ahh you remembered! 

Me: I should’ve figured you took more pictures than the ones you showed me

Reader: dw i have more i wanted to show you

Reader: image.png (8)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Seriously how are you so good at photography I don’t get it-

Me: You’re really pretty in this one!

Me: UGHHHH WHY DO I LOOK SO WEIRD    | ❌ 1 | 💕 1 |

Me: I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE YOU TAKE THIS ONE

Reader: WTH YOU’RE NOT WEIRD

Reader: YOU’RE LITERALLY SO HANDSOME WHY DO YOU  T H I N K  I TOOK THAT PIC

Well, great, now he’s actually kicking in his seat. Ike is inclined to disagree, but when Reader says it, it’s a super-effective attack on his poor little novelist heart. 

Me: Akaslwdnja

Me: Thank you 😭

Reader: anyways i gotta go i stream in 20 min and i’ve barely eaten my food

Me: Go eat! Do you have enough water?

Reader: just refilled my bottle

Me: Good then don’t let me keep you! Have a good stream!

And before he can overthink it, in the moment—

Me: I love you!

His sights are set on his second monitor.

Reader is typing…

Reader doesn’t have to respond. Sometimes just saying it is enough. 

Reader: fdsjdfkl.

Ike’s been trying to relearn that lesson ever since he realized everything he repressed was reciprocated.

Reader: i love you too, ike

Words heard across the world, one of the people he holds most dear.

His heart beats loud in his ears, but he can feel it slow, somehow. Reader is exhilarating, but there’s security in them, too. The nerves kick in until he remembers they’re just as exposed as the other, and the vulnerability generate a sense of comfort. Reader makes him feel understood like no one else in the world does, and he trusts them more than anything.

He does. He does, he does, he does, even if he only has the strength to say it one at a time. Ike is in love.

Reader: i’ll let you know when i’m done streaming, we can watch a movie together after

Me: It’s a date!    | 💕 1 |

It takes him a moment to tear his gaze away from your messages. 

His streaming monitor reflects his movements. The chat moves along. Blue light spreads through his fingertips, just like how he imagines Vtuber Model Ike’s hands resting on his own keyboard, an extension of the man outside the screen, proof of the fantastical.

“They sent me something.” Ike’s laughter is gentle. “I really do love them.”

The chat zooms past, as expected. Surely that would get clipped alongside the off-collab Q&A, but he can’t seem to care. He doubts the fandom would really understand how deep the connection goes, and if they do? Some things are just meant to be private.

Besides, on the day Ike and Reader get comfortable enough in their relationship to go public, he knows the Quilldren have his back, just like Reader and their Bookworms. 

“Reader, if you’re still there, we need to meet up again,” Ike says. “I don’t know when, but one day.”

A flurry of messages, but only one truly matters.

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : i wouldn’t miss it for the world

The model onscreen grins. It pales in comparison to Ike himself.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊commentary ↣

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[aihoshiino]

Reading one the other asks about Ruby and Ai sometimes headbutting made me wonder what it'd be like if Ai lived and had these little fights between her children like any other mother and child...would it be often, what topics would it usually be, how do they usually resolve it...Ai is usually bad a communication so I wonder if these will make her become a better speaker or she'll just resolve them through giving them treats lol. Would Ai even be able to stay mad at all? It feels like not really, she doesn't seem like the type to do that... Ai lives au is giving me brainrot

I definitely think it would take a really long time for them to have their first fight, at least in comparison to other parents and kids… really, in a lot of ways, Ai is really living the dream as a first time mom with her literally supernaturally well behaved children lol. So she never really has to deal with temper tantrums or most of the things that can usually cause like, mundane, everyday friction in a family.

I also think she's a bit of a pushover at first either way, though. Not just because she adores Aqua and Ruby enough to want to spoil them rotten and to sincerely want the world for them, I also could see her as maybe being pretty afraid of having to be the disciplinarian at first because of her own experience growing up with Ayumi who was horrifically abusive towards her. She's never had healthy, stable motherhood modelled for her and she's learning as she goes, so I can really see her being scared of getting mad or having to give a scolding, because she associates 'mom getting mad' with her own experiences with being hurt and afraid of her mom. And the idea of Aqua or Ruby ever being afraid of her…. ouuhghhh it'd shatter her heart to pieces.

From Ruby's POV I think she is sooooooooo drunk on the Loving My Mama juice and starstruck with Ai as an idol that I think she'd really want to be The Perfect Child for her as long as possible, especially since at that age, her wounds from Marina's abuse and abandonment would have been so, so incredibly fresh. We have literally two entire on-page interactions between Sarina and Marina and in both of them, Marina is making it very clear that Sarina's wants and needs are an inconvenience to her, that Sarina has been taught to feel guilty for asking things from her mom or 'causing trouble' for her, as Marina puts it - so I can really easily see her having this ingrained fear of "if I'm bad/make trouble for mama, she won't like me anymore, so i have to Be Good"

It's something they would both learn to navigate as the kids and Ai both grow up in their own ways, I think. This ask gave me the idea for a little Ai-Ruby fic of their first fight, so now I really want to cook on this all some more and write it…………………….

[basketprutas]

WHEN THEY FALL IN LOVE… ♡

Go listen to When emma falls in love while listening ♡

ps. I made a masterlist of my fics inspired by Speak Now Tv here.

in this list are... Diluc, Kaveh, Childe, Itto

“When Diluc falls in love, he paces the floor, closes the blinds, and locks the door”

♡ Diluc would deny himself that feeling. He refuses to acknowledge his feelings until he realizes he’s been trying to see your smile often, making sure you got home safely. The moment he accepts his feelings, he won’t confess first. He hates going into things without being sure, so his refusal to confess first stems from the fact he’s scared you won’t reciprocate his feelings. When you do confess though, he’ll smile in disbelief and would be the first to initiate a hug. He would hesitate at first but when you wrapped your arms around him he hugged you even tighter. (I live for touch starved diluc and what about it)

“Kaveh waits and takes his time 'cause Little Miss Sunshine always thinks it's gonna rain”

♡ Kaveh slowly realizes it and wanted to make his confession worth it. He’d plan for months, carefully choosing the right way to confess to you because he doesn’t want to blow this opportunity away. While he thinks of the best way to confess, he realizes he loves you too much that he gets scared of that fact. He’d overthink, would you accept his feelings? Would you reject him? Will your friendship stay the same even after you reject him? That's why it took so long for him to say those three words to you; he was scared of the different ways it could go wrong. All his planning was thrown off the window when he just flat-out says it to you on a random Tuesday morning while the both of you were alone. He was flustered, shaking, and was about to turn the other way when you grabbed his hand to kiss him. He’d melt at your touch and smile brightly as the both of you kissed. (He’d totally ask you if you really do like him or did you just kiss him right after the whole ordeal)

“When Childe falls in love, it’s all on his face, hangs in the air like stars in outer space”

♡ Childe would quite literally not hide the fact he’s in love with you. Like he genuinely just wants you to know he loves you, but he would never rush you. He’s a gentleman, and he would wait for your answer, no matter how long it took. He would give specific gifts, like “I bought this for you because you said these were your favorite” kind of gift. He would be devastated if you rejected him, but so long as you let him express his love for you, it was enough for him. He makes sure all the time that you aren't uncomfortable with the things he does or the gifts he gives you. When you do answer him with a yes, he will absolutely carry you in his arms and kiss you softly. 

“When Itto falls in love, he’s in it for keeps; he won’t walk away unless he knows he absolutely has to leave”

♡ This man saw you once and knew you were the one, and he’s persistent. He would do the most embarrassing things to get your attention, like a small performance with his pals in the middle of the road. Despite his comedic stunts, he pulls you out of the crowd of people to let you know he’s absolutely serious about what he feels. He can’t really put it into words, so he puts it into action. He says sorry too for his public declaration of his feelings and would ask you to not feel obligated just because he did it publicly. “Just say it, and I swear I’ll stop. I’m a man of my word.” When you confessed that you were starting to like him, he would scream at the top of his lungs out of happiness and crush you lovingly with his hug. 

Notes: this was so cute to write and also I'm really on a roll with Taylor's Speak Now TV release so here have some brainrot content while I still feel motivated to write (´♡‿♡`)

I recently started writing again; click here to learn more about me ^-^

Inbox is always open for suggestions and comments.

-Clara

[slytherinshua]

LATE NIGHT KISSES

genre. fluff. warnings. lots of kissing just so much of it. sleepy shirtless doeui </3 and mention of food (potatoes & peanuts). pairing. doy x fem!reader. wc. 806. request. combined 2 ideas from @eternalgyu: req 1 & req 2. a/n. brainrot leave me alone ISTG i cannot handle doy any longer skdjsk <//3 i swear i'm gonna write for the other members too working on some fics for them currently but doy is just occupying all available brain space i have and every single thought in my brain god.

Doeui didn’t know what time it was when his eyes blinked open after his body shivered for the fifth time. He didn’t know how long he had slept, or where you had gone, or when you’d be back, or why you had left the warm bed (and taken the warmth along with you). But he knew you were gone and he was cold, so he heaved his body up and padded his feet towards the kitchen.

There was no other possible place you could be in the middle of the night besides the bathroom, and he found you searching through the cupboards under the dim glow of a lamp from the living room. Another shiver travelled up his spine, motivating him to step forward and wrap his arms around your waist, craving for the warmth of your body. You gasped from the chill of his body— his bare chest hitting your back as his cheek rested on your shoulder.

“You’re freezing, love.” You said, turning around in his arms, abandoning the peanuts you had been eating out of the bag while you waited for the tater tots to crisp up in the airfryer. “Why didn’t you grab a shirt before coming out here?”

“Didn’t think about it. Just wanted to find you.” He whined, burying his face in your shoulder, rubbing his head against your skin like a sleepy kitten. He was so tired, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep without you.

“Well, I’m glad you did.” You giggled, fluffing his hair and rubbing your hand in loving circles to warm up his bare back. “I’m just making a snack, it’s almost done and then we can go back to sleep.”

He hummed, the tiredness from just waking up making his voice much deeper than it usually was. You walked forward slowly, guiding him to follow your steps until his waist hit the back of the counter. He pushed himself on top of it almost as if second nature— having spent so much time using the counter as his personal seat. He clung to your pyjama shirt with one hand, not wanting you to step away from him again.

“Baby, I’ll be back in half a second. Promise.” You reassured him with a quick kiss to his forehead before stepping back. The airfryer beeped quietly, signalling that your food was done. You transferred the warm crispy pieces of potatoes into a bowl, and were back to hugging Doeui within half a minute.

“You’re so tired. Why don’t you just go back to bed now?” You asked, eyebrows falling as you watched him yawn and rub his eyelids, barely even having the energy to open them. His usual bright wide eyes were half closed and hazy as drowsiness still clung to him. He just shook his head firmly and reached for your hand, snaking your fingers with his gently but securely. He giggled when you squeezed his hand, the sound much like a child discovering something new and exciting.

It was a habit of your boyfriend’s to be a bit clingier when tired. When you came to pick him up from his studio, he clung to you like a koala, refusing to let go of your hand even in the car. He craved affection when his brain was low energy, and you were more than happy to shower him with it.

You munched the first tater tot in your mouth, humming in satisfaction as it perfectly satiated your late night cravings. You held up one of the potatoes for your boyfriend, popping it into his mouth as soon as he let his lips fall open. He smiled at the taste of the perfectly warm, savoury, slightly salty potato, and you couldn’t help but kiss the slight dimple on his cheek.

Since you could hardly be asked to stop with just one kiss to the cheek, you quickly trailed down, pressing sweet warm kisses on his neck until you reached his collarbone.

You would’ve stopped there, but you could feel Doeui squeeze your hand tightly, opening his eyes just slightly to look at you. You could tell immediately that he wanted you to continue, and so you did. Gentle loving kisses were placed all over his collarbone and shoulders, and then back up the other side of his neck until you finally reached his lips. You made this kiss last a bit longer, savouring the sweet taste of his lips, a hint of salt still on them from the food. 

“Let’s go back to sleep, hm?” You suggested after finishing the last piece of potato. Doeui nodded in agreement, but still puckered his lips for one last kiss, which made you giggle. “I already kissed you a thousand times. You still want more?” You teased, making him laugh softly.

“Just one more.”

↳ nomad taglist: @eternalgyu

[etoilesombre]

I send you a message asking for fics about 2 weeks ago... i have since read them all and the blacksails brainrot has consumed me. Its not getting better. You were right... 'a month' is not long enough - it will be a decade of me thinking about black sails fulltime at the least.

I have read SO many good fics, honestly this fandom is blessed with great minds and great writers!! Your recommendations were excellent!! (Your fics too)

While going through the flintsilver tag I found a silverflinthamilton fic ('we can lose and call it living') and oh boy did that scratch an itch i didn't know i had!!

So now (after reading silverflint fics for like 2 weeks in all my spare time) I was wondering if you (or you followers!) know any flinthamilton fics. I don't know if that's your jam personally but I would love to read some fics about james and thomas (and possibly miranda) and how their relationship grew!! We see sooo little of it on screen!!

So if you have any recommendations once more, i would appreciate it!!

Hi! really sorry it took me so long to get to this, it has been a hectic week, I hope you see it!! Glad you enjoyed the recs, and I have rounded up some more.

I do read a lot less Flinthamilton(s), but a couple stick out in my mind, and I also crowdsourced some recommendations. I'm going to stick some other miscellaneous pairings on the end as well, in case you feel like further expanding your horizons.

Flintham recs: (most of them are postcanon rather than London era. I too would love more recs for London era.)

The Peaceable Kingdom by kvikindi (~45k words total) A Thomas-at-the-plantation novella length series that is truly beautifully written and engages with some hard, interesting ideas in meaningful ways.

The Sundering Sea by x_art (~140k words) I have not read this one but it comes highly recommended. One thing to note is that it is set post season two and was written in 2015, so BEFORE the ending had aired.

Rip Out All The Epilogues by Thatswherethelightgetsin (~60k words) An AU where both Hamiltons come to Nassau with Flint. This one has a side of Vane/Miranda which is interesting.

A Story Is True/A Story Is Untrue by FletcherHonorama (~210k words) This one is famous and well respected, it's a story told in parallel based on different possible endings, which is a really interesting concept.

Eye of the Beholder by Palebluedot (~2.6k words) Whew, some simple porn to balance out the many thoughtful novels people write for this pairing. They fuck in front of a mirror. It's hot.

5 Times Thomas and James Touched Foreheads Together by daylighthour (~12.5k words) Ok this is my favorite James/Thomas fic of all time, I think about it regularly - and it's rated g, imagine that. It's lovely, and supports my deeply held Autistic Flint headcanon.

NON-Flintham recs:

Ner Tamid by notfelix (~2.7k words) Ok this is technically Silver/Muldoon but it isn't really about that, it's a Jewish John Silver character study complete with cannibalism, oh my. It's great. For ACTUAL Silver/Muldoon I also encourage you to check out the same author's kinkmeme story Taking Care.

Marriage Is For Happy Men by QueerCrusader (~7.5k words) Flintgates, precanon. Flint has to perform a wedding, and has feelings about it. He and his quartermaster spend some quality time together after. This one is SO in character, really makes it work for me.

trust/caution by squidnapped (~5.4k) Also Flintgates. Disaster bottom Flint!! Love of my life!! Just. Just go read it. Trust me. This is one of my favorite fics of all time, also think about it regularly.

theives by ajaxthegreat (~3.7k words) Flintvane after Charles Town. This one is unfinished, but I really love how they talk to each other in it.

like real people do by thegreatblondebalrogslayer (~2k words) Vane is the one who shaves Flint's hair. No porn. You know it's good if I read it and there's no porn.

(If I may be so bold, I wrote Flintvane one time as well, here, try it you might like it)

your legs are the north star by Jaynovz (~3.6k) I can't usually do het at all but it works here. Flintmadi, taking comfort in each other when they're grieving Silver. Love the fealty dynamic, I'm weak for that.