#this is literally one of my greatest hopes for remind

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

My Alpha

This is kind of a long one shot (5619 words!), but I thought I'd try my hand at the ABO!/Omegaverse. Hope you like it!

Being an omega wasn’t always a bad thing.  At least that’s what she told herself repeatedly as she religiously took hormone blocking birth control pills and wore scent blockers on the daily.  Y/N hadn’t had a heat in years and wasn’t planning on letting up any time soon.  She had started working as a personal assistant for the Avengers under Tony Stark years before, going through the Sokovia Accords debacle, surviving the Blip, losing Natasha, Tony, Steve, T'Challa, and all the other strange and traumatic things that happened during her tenure.  She had denied her biology to get this job, not wanting it to affect her performance or be a target while being surrounded by literal super Alphas in this field.  And as hard as the job was, she loved it.

One of the greatest highlights was gaining Bucky Barnes as a friend.  While other Alphas she had come across were domineering, he was compassionate and kind.  He very rarely lost his composure like others did during high pressure situations in missions, and never fought over who was in charge.  He was incredibly careful to make sure everyone around him felt comfortable in his presence.  After finally shaking the Winter Soldier programming he didn’t want to ever lose control of himself again, and with the super soldier serum messing with his hormones to the extent that he was nearly feral during ruts, he would isolate himself away to keep her and others safe.  

Y/N felt like she could talk to him about anything, and he felt the same.  She was his sanctuary after rough missions, one of the few people that could break him out of a deep depressive state or the nightmares that still plagued him.  He knew she was an Omega but could barely smell her because of her blockers, which he both loved and hated.  Loved because it made it so they could be friends without the weird biological dynamics getting in the way, and hated because he was super curious about what her scent was.  They had fallen for each other long ago, but were both too afraid to do anything about it.

As they both relaxed during a rare weekend off they got on the topic of Omega versus Alpha traits.  “I get it, Alphas can be rough, but don’t you want to mate someday?  Find someone special to settle down with?  Maybe have a family?”

She sighed.  “Of course I do, Buck.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked gently.

“Not having a clear choice,” she answered simply, giving him a sharp look.  “I don’t want my biology to decide my fate.  So many Omegas get stuck being mated with bad Alphas because their heats were uncontrollable and the Alpha wouldn’t take no for an answer.  I know that I’m predestined to be a nurturer.  Hell, that’s what my job is now, taking care of all of you guys!  But I should get to choose who I end up with based on love, not by body’s reactions.” Bucky nodded in understanding, looking down at his intertwined hands.  “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.  “I just don’t know how it would work out.  This job…my past.  It all points towards disaster at any given time.”

She slid over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders awkwardly as she sat next to him.  “You deserve a happy ever after, Bucky.”

“You do, too, you know,” he reminded her, resting his head on top of hers.

“Mmh, maybe someday,” she said wistfully as she undid her embrace and leaned back against the couch.

“So, anyways,” he cleared his throat.  “Is it true that Omegas have a better sense of smell than Alphas or Betas?  Like you can pick up on others’ scents and identify them really well?”

She laughed.  “Yes, it’s true.”

“Really?  Okay, what does…” he scanned the room as other Avengers milled in and out.  “Peter.  What does Spidey smell like?” He tested her, watching her expectantly.

She took a look at Peter across the room, her nose slightly flaring as she took in a whiff from his direction.  “He always smells like fresh bagels to me.  You know the smell of just-baked bread?  Kinda like that.  Mixed with a little bit of hazelnut.”

Bucky looked at her in awe.  “Yeah I kinda get that off of him.  Alphas can smell and track scents but not to that level.”

“Hm, that’s interesting,” she said as her eyebrows furrowed.  

“Now how about Sam?” he asked excitedly, hoping it would be something not so pleasant he could tease him about.

“Ha, Sam is Cajun seasoning with a sweet lemony undertone.  Like really well done seafood,” she answered quickly with a smile on her face, knowing Bucky would be disappointed in that answer.

Bucky frowned as he thought about who to ask of next.  “Okay, how about…Steve?” He knew it was a long shot.  Steve had been gone for a few years now, so she probably wouldn’t remember.  But she gave him a soft smile.

“Steve was smoky, like fireworks.  A summer night that ends with warm apple crisp and melting vanilla ice cream on top,” she said as she stared out the window, a dazed look in her eyes as she remembered him.

“Wow…” Bucky whispered.  “I always got the fireworks, and something like a picnic.  But now that you say it, yeah, apple with vanilla.”

“Yep, he was truly all American,” she winked at him.

He laughed as he turned towards her on the couch.  “How about, um…me?”

She gazed at him, her expression softening as her nose flared again and she huffed out the breath she’d taken.  “Smoky, like Steve, but different.”

“Like gunpowder?” he asked suddenly, his eyes searching hers.  He had been told that before and was hoping they were wrong.

“No, not gunpowder.  More like…” she sniffed again but frowned.  “Do you mind if I…?” she gestured her finger from herself to him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said, opening himself up for her to scoot closer to him.  She leaned in towards his neck, the best place to scent someone, and breathed in a slow sniff of him.  She closed her eyes.

“Campfire.  A campfire on the beach.  And the smell of the ocean after it rains,” she said resolutely, opening her eyes to look at him.  Their faces were close as he stared at her.  “But no, not gunpowder,” she reassured him.

“That’s good,” he breathed, his eyes shifting from her eyes down to her lips and back.

Her eyes suddenly widened, her brow furrowing and she pulled herself away quickly.  “I, um…I need to go…excuse me,” she said hurriedly before she jumped off the couch and power-walked down the hall towards her room.

“Wait, Y/N, are you okay?” Bucky stood from the couch as he watched her leave.

“Yeah!  I’ll talk to you later!” she yelled back without looking, her voice sounded strained.

“What the hell?” he asked himself quietly, looking around him like something had jumped out and spooked her.

Once she was out of sight she ran to her room and had Friday bolt the door.  She doubled over in pain and clutched her stomach.  “No way,” she moaned as she reached for her phone and called for help.

“Hey you, how are ya?” Bruce asked when he answered the call.

“Bruce,” her voice was pained as she held in another moan.  “I need help, something’s wrong.”

“What?  What’s going on?” he sounded worried, the rustling of papers and beeping from a screen by him going off.

“It feels…like a heat?  But that’s not possible, right?  We made sure of it,” she grunted as another cramp shot through her abdomen, and just as suddenly as it all started, it suddenly stopped, leaving her gasping.  “Wait, now it stopped?  What the hell is happening?”

“Come down to the lab, right now.  We’ll get you tested.”

She didn’t need to be told twice as she hung up and crept out of her room towards the elevator.  She was able to get in and down to the lab a few floors away without being caught by Bucky or anybody else.  She ran into the lab in a panic.  Bruce was already setting up the medical bay in the back with everything needed to do a check-up, some vials next to the other instruments.

“Hey, let’s take some blood and see what’s going on,” he called out to her when he heard the doors slide open.  She jogged to the bed and hopped up on it, taking off her cardigan so he could access the veins in her arm better.  After a quick routine check up he took a few vials of her blood then stepped out towards all the equipment he had for medical and scientific tests.  

He worked silently as she sat there deep in thought.  It can’t be, she tried to reassure herself.  I’ve been so careful.  Not missed a single pill ever.  This can’t be happening.  After about an hour Bruce came back with a screen in his hand, his eyebrows hung low over his eyes and a frown on his face.

“Y/N, it’s…it’s not working anymore,” he said softly, his eyes sad and confused as he looked at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes widening.

“The hormone blockers, the pills…your body isn’t responding to them anymore.  Your hormones are syncing back to normal Omega levels.  Your heats are going to come back.”

“No, no no no no no…NO Bruce!  I can’t.  Please, there’s gotta be another pill to try, a shot, an implant, something?  Anything, please?” she began to cry.  

“I’m sorry Y/N.  We already got you the best blockers that are available out there.  If your body is weaning off of them it means your biology is taking over, probably because you’re getting older and it’s fighting back to have a chance at mating.  I’m so sorry,” he showed her the hormone levels on a chart on the screen, pointing out the differences and then setting it down.  “There’s nothing I can do.  Nothing you can do but prepare yourself for it to start again.  And your first one is probably going to be brutal after avoiding them for so long.  You’ll need help–”

“NO!  No, I can’t do this.  I can’t ask some random Alpha for help.  This isn’t fair!” she cried harder, hiding her face in her hands.  Bruce patted her on the back, trying to help ease her pain by giving off a calming scent.  He was also an Omega and knew how much this meant to her.  

“It will be alright, Y/N.  You have friends here who will help you without making it awkward between you and them, or won’t immediately try mating with you during your heat.  They’re good Alphas.  They won’t hurt you or take advantage of you,” he promised.

She tried to calm the loud beating of her heart that was wringing in her ears, a panic attack trying to settle deep in her bones that she was fighting back.  “How long do I have until it comes?” she sighed as she sniffled.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.  With it being so long since you last had one it could be next week or it could be in a couple of months,” he answered gravely.

“Ugh, great,” she laughed as she wiped her tears away.  “No choice, whatsoever.  My body ultimately got to decide for me after all.  Wonderful,” she spat as she jumped down off the bed.  “Thank you, Bruce, for testing.  I just…I need to go sleep this off, I don’t know,” she said, giving him a quick hug and then leaving the lab.  

She took the elevator back up to her floor, her eyes stinging from the hot tears still slowly falling down.  Her heat was coming back, and with a vengeance.  She would need help.  Who would she ask?  Any of the unmated superhero Alphas would probably say yes, though she knew she only wanted one.  But how could she ask this of him?  And if he did help, how could she go on with their friendship as if nothing had happened between them afterwards?

The elevator opened and she trudged into the common room.  The floor was already dark as twilight set in and everyone had split off to their rooms.  She slipped into the kitchen since she missed dinner while down in the lab to grab something to eat, although she wasn’t particularly hungry.  As she made herself a sandwich she turned to grab a knife then saw a figure in the corner at the dining table.

“Jesus!  Fuck, Bucky you scared me,” she gasped, holding a hand over her heart.

“Sorry, honey,” he grunted as he sat watching her.  “Why are you crying?”

She stiffened as she looked at him, trying to act nonchalant as she grabbed the knife and turned back to her sandwich.  “I’m not, I’m just tired,” she waved him off, quickly cutting the sandwich and putting the ingredients and dishes away to escape.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N.  What’s wrong?” he stood, walking towards her.  She reached for the refrigerator door to get a drink, which he quickly shut and stared her down.  She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Come on Buck, I just need a drink,” she complained as she tried to open the door again, reaching for the handle.  Bucky grabbed her wrist firmly and leaned in towards her.

“What’s wrong Y/N?  You ran away earlier and now you smell…off,” he said, searching her eyes as his nose flared at the scent she was radiating.  His frown deepened and his eyes looked worried.  “Why are you afraid?  Was it me?  Did I do something wrong?”

“No!  Oh no, Bucky, it’s not you,” she said, her eyes widening.  “It’s me, it’s just…” her eyes welled up with tears again, spilling onto her cheeks as she sucked in a sharp breath.  “It’s me,” she sobbed, leaning forward til her forehead rested against his chest.

“Oh honey,” Bucky sighed.  He put his hands under her armpits and lifted her onto the counter so she was eye level with him.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in his shoulder, crying harder as he enveloped her, his hands rubbing up and down her back as he whispered reassuring words to her.  They sat holding each other for a while, Bucky letting her cry it out and Y/N relishing the comfort.  As her cries died down and her grip loosened around his neck he pulled back.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please?  You’re breaking an old man’s heart,” he pleaded, hating to see her hurting so much.

Y/N chuckled at him calling himself an old man as she wiped her nose with her sleeve.  Bucky held her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  She let herself enjoy his touch before she sniffled and finally looked up at him.

“When I was talking to you earlier, I felt this weird pain,” she explained quietly.  Bucky nodded, listening intently as he held her face still.  “That’s why I ran out.  I went to Bruce’s lab to test me because it felt like…like a heat,” she sniffled again, looking down at her lap.  Bucky nodded again, his hands releasing her face and reaching for her hands to hold.  “I haven’t had one in years.”  This surprised him.  He knew there were new ways of birth control for Omegas now, giving them a lot more options than to just mate and reproduce and take care of their Alphas and pups like the old days, which he thought was great.  He just didn’t realize it could be for so long.  “And now, apparently, the hormone blockers aren’t working anymore,” she gripped his fingers tightly.  “My body is rejecting them, weaning off of them and reverting back to normal hormone levels.  My heat is coming,” she sucked in another sharp breath.  “I don’t know when, but he said it’s going to be brutal since I’ve been avoiding them for so long.  He said I’ll need help and…and I don’t know what to do.”  Her voice shook as she looked up at him again.  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Bucky could feel her panic and gave off what he hoped was a calming scent.  It seemed to help as her eyes fluttered shut and her shoulders visibly relaxed.  The Alpha in him hummed in satisfaction as he swept his thumbs over her knuckles.  “You don’t need to be scared, Y/N.  It’s going to be okay,” he tried to placate her.  “Listen, I know earlier you said you wanted a choice, and now your body’s not giving you one.”  She nodded, a few more tears slipping out the sides of her eyes.  “I…I can help you,” he said, gulping back the lump in his throat.  Her eyes snapped up to him, a look of shock on her face.  “I know that I’m offering something kinda crazy.  But I promise you I won’t hurt you, I won’t make you court me if you don’t want to, and I won’t forcibly mate with you.”  He looked her deep in her eyes to try to get her to understand.  “But I’d be honored to help you.”

Y/N couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.  She had wanted to ask him and now he was offering himself for her to get through this first heat.  She licked her lips and contemplated it.  “I just don’t want it to ruin our friendship,” she sniffed again, her eyes searching his face for hesitation.

“It won’t,” he said earnestly.  

“...Okay,” she agreed.  

Bucky smiled as he squeezed her fingers.  “Okay.”

“Thank you, Bucky.  You’re a good Alpha,” she thanked him, lifting his hands up and kissing his knuckles.

His eyes fluttered shut and he cleared his throat.  “You should probably not call me that, at least not right now.”

Her eyes widened.  “Oh!  God, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay, honey, it’s fine,” he chuckled.  “Whenever it hits you, just call me, and I’ll be there.”

She gave him a warm smile in appreciation.  They were playing with fire, and they both knew it deep down, but were denying it heavily.

***

Y/N could feel her hormones changing her body and mind.  Bruce had advised against wearing scent blockers as well to help her body fully adjust and hopefully not cause as much pain during her upcoming heat, and that was the first thing she noticed.  The Alphas around her, who would normally just give her a friendly greeting or a smile, now watched her hungrily through narrow eyes, giving tight smiles as their noses flared as she passed by.  It made her self-conscious enough to ask Bucky one day, “Do I smell bad?”

Bucky looked away from the book he was reading as she plopped next to him on the couch in the common room again, lifting her feet up to rest on his lap.  She was touching him a lot more lately.  “What do you mean?”

“Do I smell bad?  Omegas can’t really smell themselves very well, and since I took off the scent blockers I’ve been…watched,” she looked around the room warily.  Bucky’s eyes swept across the other Alphas in the room, noting how they were all giving off territorial scents as they tracked her.  He sat up straight, facing each one until they caught his eye and gave off a warning rumble deep in his chest, his eyes flashing dangerously.  They each quickly retreated, shamefully turning back towards their previous tasks.  The air around Y/N seemed to lift and she felt like she could breathe again.  “Thank you, Bucky.”

He sat back on the couch, grabbing his book with one hand and mindlessly rubbing her feet with the other.  “No need to thank me, honey.  And no, you don’t smell bad.  You smell like chai.”

“Chai?” Y/N scoffed.

“Yeah, chai with…” he reached a hand out and grabbed her wrist, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply.  Her eyes widened comically at his brashness in scenting her so publicly.  “Pumpkin.  Chai and pumpkin.  Like Autumn,” he concluded, setting her wrist down and then rubbing her feet again.  He said it so casually that she just stared at him dumbfounded.  

It got worse as the weeks went on.  Her emotions were haywire, one minute she was calm and cool and the next she was agitated and easily crying at anything.  She was nesting anxiously, rearranging her room and her desk in her office, constantly carrying around a large fuzzy cardigan or blanket with her.  Her joints were sore, especially in her hips.  She found herself eating all the time.  Bruce had her come down to the lab each week to check her levels, each time warning her it could happen any day now.  

A month and a half later on a Friday night the team got together for a movie night.  They decided on watching the first Avatar, a movie Bucky hadn’t yet seen.  As it played Y/N kept fidgeting next to him, adjusting her sitting position, wringing her hands in her lap, taking deep breaths periodically.  A scene began of two of the characters connecting in a tree garden and Sam yelled out, “Alien tree sex!”  Everyone laughed but Y/N bolted out of the room.  Bucky watched her run down to her room and shut her door.

He quietly got up and followed her.  He could tell just by her scent changing these last few weeks and how it was getting stronger, the chai smell getting spicier, that her heat was fast approaching.  She had been very touchy with him, following him around and staying close whenever they were in the same room.  He had no claim to her, but it was evident to everyone to stay away from her, otherwise they’d get a growl from him.  He was growing more excited by the day, trying to remind himself that he was just helping out a friend, not staking any claim or bond.  

When he reached her door he pressed his ear against it, listening for her.  He heard her heart rate picking up and her breathing became labored.  He could also smell her, more potent, spicy, the scent of unmated Omega making his hormones sing and call out for her.  A deep rumble emitted from his chest as he felt his cock hardening.  He knocked on her door.

“Y/N,” he called out, just loud enough for her to hear.  A soft moan came from the other side.  His eyelids shut tight at the sound.  It was time.  “I’m coming in,” he warned before opening the door.  He stepped inside and was hit with the scent full force, making his eyes and mouth water simultaneously.  Y/N was laying in the nest she built on her bed in the fetal position, one hand on her stomach and the other in between her legs, not yet touching herself but keeping pressure against her core.  “Honey…” he groaned as he locked the door behind himself and walked towards the bed.

“Alpha,” she breathed, her brow furrowed and eyes shut tight.  A cramp wracked through her whole body and she yelped in pain.  “It’s starting.  It hurts…hurts so bad,” she cried as she could feel a small gush of slick pour from her pussy as her body recognized the Alpha in the room.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, I’m here,” he cooed at her, reaching his hand out and running his fingers along her leg from her ankle to her thigh.  “Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said while lifting the hem of her shorts up slightly.  She nodded and blindly started pulling at her clothes.  Bucky helped her strip out of her layers then undressed himself, giving her naked body an appreciative glance.  He lay behind her on the bed, cocooning her in his arms and leaning his head into the crook of her neck and scenting her.  He could feel himself getting drunk off of her heat.  She was sending him into an early rut as his hips rocked against her ass slowly.  Y/N keened at that, her back arching and pushing her ass into his crotch further.  He moaned at the sensation, his arms tightening around her.  “Shh, Omega.  I got you,” he said as his voice dropped further, the Alpha coming through more prominently now.

“Bucky…” she sighed, her hands gripping his arms around her.  “Please…Alpha please,” she begged, her legs shaking as another cramp hit her.

Bucky moaned at the sound of his name said that way coming from her lips.  He started to lick and suck and kiss at the scent gland on her throat, making her gasp loudly.  His scent mixed with hers, and they quickly got lost in each other.  His hands found her breasts and massaged them firmly, his fingers tweaking her nipples and making her hips buck back into him again.  He twisted her body around to face him.  She quickly molded herself back to him, hiking her leg up and over his hip, her hands scratching down his chest.  He tried to remind himself one last time that this was just a friend helping a friend.  Then she kissed him.

The kiss broke the dam of hesitancy he was holding to desperately.  He quickly responded, his mouth opening and their tongues tangling as they tasted each other.  Bucky climbed on top of her, his knees forcing hers apart.  His fingers probed her lower lips, finding her clit and giving it all his attention.  Y/N’s hips writhed as he riled her up.  She watched his fingers dip into her, making her breath stutter.  She was already dripping for him so he plunged two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out while his thumb rubbed and flicked her clit.  

“Fuck Alpha,” she groaned.  “Just like that, shit!”

Bucky smiled as she cursed, her legs shaking against his.  She reached down and took his cock in her hand, giving him lazy pumps as he got her closer to her release.  He huffed a sharp breath.  “Damn, honey, oooh that’s good,” he said lowly.  “Give it to me, love, come on, you can do it.  Be such a good Omega for me,” he encouraged her as he curled his fingers as deep as he could reach.  

The tension in her core finally snapped, her first orgasm ripping through her at lightning speed, squirting slick all over his hand and his hips.  She let out a guttural moan, the sound reverberating through the air, making the Alpha inside of him scream to claim her.  He had to physically restrain himself as he pulled his fingers out of her.  She smiled as she watched him with hooded eyes.  He put his wet fingers in his mouth and licked them clean of her slick, his eyes rolling back at the taste.

“Alpha please, I need you.  Bucky, I want your big cock inside me…please!” Y/N begged again.  Normally it would embarrass her to be acting like this, she would have never dreamed of speaking to Bucky this way.  But they were beyond the point of no return.

“Condom first, Omega,” he reminded her in his authoritative voice.  “As much as I’d love to fill you up, I don’t think that’s what you want just yet.”

Y/N pouted, but the first orgasm had helped clear her brain a little bit, and pointed to the nightstand next to the bed.  Bucky quickly reached over and pulled open the top drawer, finding the box and pulling a few of them out.  He unwrapped one and slipped it on himself before settling back between her legs, backing up a little bit.  “Present, please, Omega.”

Y/N twisted herself onto her stomach, lifting her hips high and pressing the side of her face into the bed.  Bucky almost whimpered at the sight of her sweet pussy, seeing the way he had made her drip with slick, the skin softly puckering in anticipation.  “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen Y/N, goddamn,” he whispered huskily.  She preened at his praise, her ass raising a little higher.  He gave her ass a quick slap, making her yelp and shiver.  “You ready?” he asked, making sure she was still wanting this.

“Yes, please Alpha, Bucky…please!”

“You’re so sexy when you beg,” he slapped her ass again, then grabbed her hips and aimed himself at her entrance.  He slowly pushed in the tip of his cock, the fat head catching just past her lower lips, making them both groan.  He kept pushing until he was fully seated inside her, letting her adjust to his size.  Y/N was keening again, a high pitched tone ringing through the air.  After a moment she wriggled her hips, silently asking him to thrust.  A deep growl emanated from Bucky’s throat and he pulled back until it was just the tip inside, then snapped his hips back into her hard. 

Y/N was making the sweetest noises he’d ever heard as he pummeled his cock into her.  She whimpered and moaned, making him hook an arm around her hips and lay his stomach across her back, quick huffs of his breath warming her shoulder.  He could feel her walls fluttering around him, making the rhythm of his hips stutter.  “Fuck, honey, you gonna cum?”  She nodded as her moans got louder.  He flipped her back over onto her back so he could watch her release, leaving barely any room between them as he hovered over her.  Her hands wound around the back of his neck, scratching his scalp with her nails.  “Goddammit, do that again,” he heard himself whimpering this time.  She scratched from the top of his head down to his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

He reached between their bodies and started flicking her clit as he chased his own high.  “Bucky, oh my God,” she squealed against his lips as her back arched and her legs clung to his hips.  “Yes, yes, yes, shit…mark me.”

Bucky didn’t stop thrusting but tensed at her words.  “No, Y/N, you don’t want that.”

“Yes, I do, with you, Bucky,” she gasped.

“Omega,” he warned her, his eyes flashing.  “We can talk about that when I’m not balls deep inside you.”

Y/N tensed at his Alpha command, her legs loosening around him.  “I want you to be my Alpha, my mate.”

“God fucking dammit,” Bucky stopped thrusting and leaned on his elbows above her.  “Y/N, listen to me, you don’t want that.  You said you wanted a clear choice, remember?”  Y/N was silent and wide eyed as she watched him, slightly nodding her head.  “This isn’t a clear choice.  Your first heat in how many years?  It’s your hormones talking, honey.  And believe me, I’d love to mark you, claim you, bond and mate with you.  Stuff you full of me,” he thrust again, making her eyes roll back, “and breed you with my pups.  But we can talk about all that later.  Right now, I’m here to help you through this, because you’re my best friend, and…I’m ridiculously in love with you.”  He finally said it.  “I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine.  But when it’s both of us with clear heads and a clear choice.  Okay?”

Y/N’s eyes were watery as she listened to him.  “You’re in love with me?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Is that all you got out of that?”

She shook her head, “No, but it’s the most important thing.  I’m in love with you.”

He smiled wide and leaned down to give a quick kiss to her nose.  “Can I continue now?”

She nodded again, and he gave her another thrust to get her going again.  Her slick started to make squelching noises as he picked up the pace again, his knot starting to catch at her entrance, his hand reaching to her clit again and trailing kisses down her throat to her scent gland, licking and sucking at it again.

“One day, if you’ll have me, I’ll bite this pretty neck,” he moaned in her ear as her fingers dug into his back.  “Make you mine.”

“Yours, all yours, Bucky…Alpha,” Y/N groaned, leaning her head up and scenting him back.  Her soft lips and her tongue against his gland had his eyes rolling in his head again and his fingers gripping her hips harshly.  “That’s right.  Mine.  Mine…mine,” he thrusted harder and faster, angling her hips up to hit deeper.

Y/N screamed his name as she finally came, her hands digging into the flesh between his neck and shoulder, scratching his scent gland and making him see stars as he came with a yell, his knot fully inflating and latching him to her as she nearly squeezed the dear life out of him.  He fell on top of her, and she held him as he calmed down, both of them panting and sweaty.  

A heady scent filled the air, a smell that screamed satisfied mates.  Bucky pulled himself to his side, holding her close so it wouldn’t hurt her to move with him, and covered them with the blankets from her nest.  Y/N was delirious after this first round of her heat, her head lolling with exhaustion.  “Rest, Omega.  We’ve still got a few days, and forever after that.”

She smiled sleepily, “Hmmm, my Alpha.”

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[scoutswritingcorner]

hi!! i saw your angel dust headcannons for a small cold reader and was possibly hoping i can request some angel dust comfort? my family’s been giving me a rough time lately and i just can’t seem to escape them :( i just want some fluffy spider cuddles (and mayhaps a raccoon demon reader 👀 it’s not needed it was just a funny little detail to add lol)

The Best Way To Comfort

Angel Dust x Male Raccoon Demon Reader

A/N: Hihi Anon! You’re request was so fucking adorable and I hope everything gets better my friend! Hope this brings a smile to your face and I was writing this with a Raccoon Demon reader in my mind!!

-🕷️ As soon as he sees you upset Angel is scooping you up in his arms and hugging you close. If you don’t want to talk to him about it, he won’t pressure you. He understands being closed off and unresponsive. But if you want to talk? He’s all ears baby. If you start crying, he wipes your tears away and kisses your forehead.

-🩷 Best cuddler around, he’s got all those arms for a reason and holding you against him is the best use of those arms second best to holding your hand. He also loves your ears and little bushy racoon tail (and how you're always grabbing things ya’ little thief-). His eyes widen in surprise if you allow him to touch your ears and tail. 

-🕷️ He adores how short you are compared to him and will pick you up at random. Do not get me started if you start making those chittering raccoon noises, he will laugh and kiss your face. He thinks it’s down right adorable.

-🩷 This straight up became talking about raccoon things you do BUT- Some nights he wakes up to see you skulking around and if you get caught you freeze before slowly reaching for whatever you wanted. He finds it adorable but you are disrupting his beauty sleep and he will pick you up to bring back to bed, he’s not afraid of your growls and hissing.

-🕷️ Back to cuddles, laying your head on his chest floof and falling asleep with Fat Nuggets in your arms is a 100% chance of him snapping some pictures. His phone background is a picture of you having fallen asleep in a weird place and his lockscreen is of you and him at a bar.

-🩷 Sometimes when he can’t find Fat Nuggets around and he starts to freak out, he just lifts up your tail and finds the little piglet dead asleep curled up. This mostly happens when he comes home super late from work and finds you still awake but focused on something else. 

-🕷️ Kisses? Are a must, he loves kissing you. Bending down and kissing you, picking you up and kissing you. That one time where you literally climbed your own boyfriend and kissed him. He loves it and the ways he can kiss you are endless. 

-🩷 One time you were clinging to his back and he forgot about you for a moment and literally went looking around the hotel for you. He was in tears by the time Charlie brought it up and after that? He was embarrassed and won’t talk to anyone for an hour.

-🕷️Also can we talk about how caring he is? Like if you need to take medication? He’s set an alarm on your phone and he will text you as another reminder. Even when he’s on set, he has a personalized alarm for himself so he won’t forget either. Need help reaching something while you cook or want a snack that Alastor hides from you? It’s already in his hands.

-🩷 Angel Dust loves you so much and wants the best for you. For him? You’re the best thing that has happened in a very very long time and he doesn’t want to lose you. Not that he will, you got your little thieving fingers around his heart and you’re not letting go of your greatest treasure.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #angel dust imagine #angel dust x you #angel dust x male reader #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #male reader #racoon anon

[tom-whore-dleston]

Denial and Devotion

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader

Word Count: 880

This fic contains: preludes to smut, implied smut, amnesia, mentions of squirting and fingering, reader was a Soldier Boy fangirl (like me fr xD), toxic celebrity culture?

Summary: You are in denial that you slept with the Supe you used to crush on.

Notes: I'm just a girl that writes Soldier Boy fanfic at 2am knowing damn well I have work at 9am flksdghk this gif replays in my brain every waking moment of the day I literally hate how hot he is >:( This is my weekly contribution to @flashfictionfridayofficial’s prompt no. 241: Hour of Denial

The moment you rose from your slumber, you knew something was wrong. First off, you woke up in a room that you did not recognize. Then, you realized the cotton sheets of the unfamiliar bed clung close to your bare skin as if you had slept in it before. 

You attempted to lift yourself out the bed, but your muscles were weak, soreness more prominent in your hips and thighs. As you winced in discomfort, your eyes widened upon the discolored love bites scattered over your body. Your eyes finally glanced to the opposite side of the bed, only to discover the person occupying it was none other than Soldier Boy.

When you were younger, Soldier Boy was your first crush. At the time, he was presumed dead, but your father would tell you stories about how he was one of the greatest superheroes to ever live. Your childhood room was covered in Soldier Boy posters and you had a doll of him that never left the box. As you got older, you conducted more research on the man you worshiped, but eventually learned that he was a monster in a superhero costume. As a result, you ripped the posters to shreds and finessed some cash off the doll in hopes to erase any trace of your Soldier Boy phase. 

You stared in disbelief at the same man that lay peacefully asleep. Your mind raced with questions. The only logical answer to all of them was that you were dreaming. To test the theory, you pinched your forearm as hard as you could. After cursing from the pain, you tried another method by poking Soldier Boy in his meaty bicep. Without fluttering his eyes open, he grunted in annoyance and rolled over. 

If your head wasn’t already spinning, it definitely was at this very moment. You slithered out of the bed, making sure not to disturb the sleeping man, and frantically searched for your clothes. In a hurried attempt, you shimmied back into your little black dress from the night before. Regardless of whether this was all a dream or not, you silently vowed that you are remaining sober for the rest of the month. 

“Where you going so fast, sweetheart?” You turned toward the groggy voice that belonged to Soldier Boy, who was propped up against the bed frame with his muscular torso in view. It felt as if no time had passed since the beginning stages of your devotion to Soldier Boy. Your eyes scanned over his physique with a hunger that only he could satisfy. Heat radiated your body and you stood paralyzed in your unzipped dress, leaving enough uncovered for his imagination to run wild.

As Soldier Boy hopped out of bed, you swiftly turned away as his thick cock unveiled from the thin sheets. He began walking towards you, but you ignored him by fiddling with the zipper on your back. You grew frustrated with the zipper’s defiance the closer the beefy supe inched towards you. His intense stare begged for your attention until he took matters into his own hands by lifting your chin up to his gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest as his green eyes studied your face. Except there was no studying necessary.

“I’m a little embarrassed by this,” you laughed nervously, “but I don’t remember anything from last night.”

Soldier Boy smirked. “Want me to give you a reminder?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” You paused. You may not have been as infatuated with the supe as much as you once were, but you didn’t want to come off as rude. “I mean…I’m sure last night was great but I shouldn’t impose-“

“Great? Well if you define squirting on my fingers and cock until you begged me to stop as great then maybe I gotta fuck you harder.” 

You were about to let out a moan, but quickly masked it with a sigh. Every part of you wanted to hate him but the ache in between your legs betrayed your voice of reason.

“You can play the ex-fangirl game all you want, but you and I know you never truly get over your first crush.” There wasn’t a more pathetic feeling than regressing back into that naive girl who treated a flawed superhero like a god. 

Suddenly, your back hit the wall and Soldier Boy towered over you, his arm the only thing keeping him from pressing you against the wall to grind into your core. His free hand hooked under the strap of your dress, slowly pulling it off your shoulder. As the dress pooled around your feet, he lightly kissed the crook of your neck, electricity coursing your blood as his beard pricked your skin.

His hot breath fanned over your ear. “There’s no need to deny me anymore, sweetheart. I’m here for you to worship and fulfill all your pretty little fantasies.”

Fuck it.

All your common sense flew out the window as you desperately smashed your lips against his. Gripping your wrists, he pinned you against the wall before grinding his semi hard cock against your wet pussy. 

Soldier Boy may have been the biggest pain in your ass, literally and figuratively, but he was right about you never fully recovering from your first crush.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

#flash fiction friday #fff241 #soldier boy #the boys #the boys series #jensen ackles #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fan fic #soldier boy imagine #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys fic

[shewroteaworld]

Detatched

Premise: You think you're alone in a storm of feelings. There's one person who won't let you get drenched in this downpour alone.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (relationship can be read as purely platonic or as a budding romance)

Approximate word count: 650

Warnings: Self-deprecation

“I just want to feel things. And not feel bad about feeling them.” 

Tears fall and splotch the lines of your notebook paper. You’re relieved your writing was spared. But you're also annoyed. If it washed away the graphite evidence, maybe you could shy away from this. Maybe you could not feel this.

How could you feel such contradictory desires at the same time? How could you hold both in your heart? You couldn’t. You literally couldn’t.

It was only inevitable. You were meant to destroy yourself. You had brain power, sure. But connection to yourself? Your soul? A real knowledge of self?

You sniffle. You bite your knuckles to choke the sobs. If someone caught you here, crying in the BAU bathroom on the toilet…you could never live that down. 

You sigh. Everyone was busy with work, packing up to go home, or already in the parking lot.

You were fine. You were safe. This was safe.

Of course, as if you were in a sitcom, as soon as the thought passed your mind, there was a goddamn knock on the door.

“Are you okay in there? I was passing by and couldn’t help but hear…do you need help?”

Spencer.

You shiver. You pull on your sweater as if you can squeeze warmth out of it. 

“I’m-I’m fine Spencer.” And just like that, the portal closed. You detached. If you could get him to leave quick enough, maybe you could touch it again– actually have a chance at feeling it. Releasing it.

Oh, why did you have to go to therapy?

“(Y/N)? You’re definitely not fine, open up.” 

“Spencer, I’m…” You shut your eyes tight. “I don’t want to worry you, so you should just leave.”

His scoff cuts through the mahogany door. “I’m not leaving you. You’re not okay.”

“Spencer, please.” You wipe snot from your nose on your sleeve. Like a toddler. “Leave, please, I just want to be alone.” You beg.

“I–” A dart of hope cuts through your heart. He sighs. “I don’t believe you.” It’s dashed. “Please, let me in, let me help.”

You can’t piece together enough words to form a rebuttal. When did you get a rubber tongue?

“(Y/N), I care. I’m your friend. Let me in.”

You sniffle, a smile tugging at the corner of your lip. He didn’t have to remind you of who he was. 

The smile slips away faster than the millisecond it arrived in. You couldn’t do this alone, and he wouldn’t let you.

There was finally someone in your life who wouldn’t let you.

“You can come in, Spence.”

You stare at his khaki–slacked knees as he slips through the door of the woman’s restroom. 

“I think we’re breaking company protocol.” You say to his patent leather shoes.

“For once, I’m putting personal protocol above that.” He says softly. “Letting you cry in the bathroom alone is against my protocol.”

You close your eyes. “I think I’m damaged goods.” 

“I think you’re way too harsh on yourself.” He pounces.

You open your eyes. “I don’t know how to feel things.” You croak.

“You know more than you know. That’s how the greatest intellectuals feel when they touch feelings. You’re not alone.”

You scoff. “Am I some great intellectual?”

“Stop that.” He cuts in. “You know you are.” He crosses the Rubicon between you, the tips of his toes stopping centimeters from yours. 

“I’ve been there. You have never been alone. And I’m here. To hold this with you.”

You meet his eyes. They’re soft and cold with worry yet there’s a warmth– like the warmth from the taste of home baked cookies. You feel it in your bones.

“To hold this with me?” You ask.

“To hold this with you.” He affirms.

For the first time in a long time, the cork pops from the bottle in the pit of your stomach.

You speak. 

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fandom

[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

#ike eveland x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland fluff #ike eveland angst #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #4402 writes #🖋 anon #fanfic is unrealistic and i know this because clippers would NEVER use semicolons in their captions #eating string cheese wrong is symbolic. it represents eavesdropping and shitty lies that go unnoticed #i hope i never see a typo in this thing this fic is literally impossible to edit on mobile #update: there were typos. and i had to wait 3 minutes for the editor to load on my laptop before i could fix them. rip #pliskinverse

[topaz-mutiny]

I think the fans are underestimating how differently people can process things.

I am consistently seeing posts say "Ashton/Tal were repeatedly warned the shard was not for them/will 100% kill them", when this was absolutely not the case, and, more importantly, it is very likely for groups of people to completely misinterpret the warnings. Even if they've known each other and loved each other for a decade.

I certainly thought the warnings were not clear or frequent enough so I was shocked like lightning in the latest episode that they were meant to be absolute death flags.

Please note that I'll mostly refer to the fictional characters, I don't want to bring the people behind the characters too much into this.

First, I would like to point out, the show takes place over weeks and months with plenty of breaks and interruptions. That is plenty of time and opportunity for memories to get faded, muddled, crossed-over with other memories, etc.

The "warnings" happened two weeks to a month ago. And even when they were fresh on the cast's mind, here are the warnings verbatim (bold is my emphasis):

But be warned, holding the strength of the two in one vessel might sunder it. You bear the dormant strength of the empress. Find and bestow the might of the emperor.

- Evontra'vir, episode 74, aired October 5th. The conversations move on to unrelated things with no followup.

Ashton: He also said it might be dangerous for these two shards to intermingle. Or he didn't say dangerous, he said that-- it could destroy me. Orym: --A chance the vessel could break. Laudna: --The vessel <air quotes> could break. Fearne: Wasn't there something if you put them together with the right thing that it'll be okay? Ashton: It might come together and be okay, yeah. -- Dancer: Maybe if it were to meet one of its own ilk, it could awaken. Allura: What you said as a point of warning likely is true. To have both within a singular vessel, it's possible one could survive, but it's also highly possible that it would rend you into a thousand pieces. -- Allura: We're in a strange area of experimentation and unknown knowledge. -- (after finding out Ashton has a fascimile of a Luxon beacon in their brain) FCG: So he's got two things in him or them? Allura: It would seem, which is why I'm a bit--Well, you're either the greatest weapon we could hope for in this time, or will be our end. I couldn't tell you. Orym: Boy, maybe we don't add a third thing. Ashton: I was put together by bits and pieces. This was not an intentional thing and it, I honestly shouldn't have survived it. It was, literally, I was put together with junk. Allura: In an odd way, your fragmented nature might be what keeps all of this in check. ... Perhaps we don't put another powerful entity within your form.

- Various, episode 76, aired October 19th.

To me, these warnings were not clear in the slightest.

To me, these warnings were interspersed with so many words like "possible", "might", and "chance" that I completely misinterpreted the situation as "For Ashton it is dangerous but doable" instead of "The Game Master is telling you Ashton's character sheet will be ripped up."

This is the problem with using in-character voices and using descriptors that imply chance or flexibility. They can drastically weaken the meaning of a phrase such that people like me will mistake it for something else.

Because that's how my brain works. "May", "chance", "perhaps" suggest to me a reasonable set of odds for an action and does not come across as the grave warning a game master would want.

And as a reminder, these muddled warnings were weeks apart and weeks away, which can make remembering the meaning even worse if you've already misinterpreted them. That's why I was 100% on board with Ashton taking the shard. It seemed reasonable but dangerous, so when Matt said "I warned you." in that grave tone and with that grave look I was thrown for a loop. I went "oh no! those were serious warnings!?" and the panic started setting in.

Also a contributing factor was the pressure and lack of communication from Bells Hells.

Fearne did not want the shard, and finally stated that thought aloud to Ashton. For Fearne and Ashton, that meant the only choice left was Ashton, because, for one reason or another, the 5 other people in Bells Hells repeatedly assumed and pushed the shard onto Fearne and wrote themselves out of the equasion. FIVE characters absolved themselves of being active participants. Once the idea of Fearne came to mind and this Emperor Fearne/Empress Ashton/Callowmoore shipping dicotomy, Bells Hells just stopped talking about it and never once considered if any of them should take the shard should Fearne refuse.

So... yeah that's how my brain works.

#critical role #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #c3e77 #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #bells hells #evontra'vir #taliesin jaffe #matthew mercer #communication breakdown #tl;dr Bells Hells needs to talk to each other more instead of just assuming how things will be #do you want explosions and dead PCs? that's how you get explosions and dead PCs. #people will think differently and can misinterpret what you say #even this loving group of 8 people can misinterpret each other despite being together for like a decade #tbh I thought the shard going to Orym would've been ideal #I might repost this for the Monday crew idk

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Dyeing Hair with Deuce

A/N: This is inspired by me wanting to dye the ends of my hair blue for the past three years but never being able to actually do it 😞

Masterlist

Okay but imagine a hair dying date with Deuce.

One the one hand, he actively avoids anything that reminds him of his delinquent days and the sight and smell of hair bleach brings back memories of his mother’s heartbroken face every time she’d spot a new bruise on his skin, the odour of cigarettes clinging onto him like a parasite - but on the other hand, your sparkly-eyed hopeful smile that graced him was absolutely heavenly and he could never even imagine someone as pure as you to the murky, blackened actions of the old him.

He’d be so gentle as well - whether you’re doing your whole head, highlights, or just the ends - he’d treat it as if he’s been blessed with the most important task ever made, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as his gloved fingers card through your hair, daintily and expertly applying the bleach/colour. You’re not allowed to lift a finger, just keep your attention on the romance movie in front of you as he works his magic - though if you’d like to reward his hard work with kisses he won’t say no.

If you think that him doing everything is a chore then think again my friend because acts of service is this guy’s love language. He literally lives to serve you, like him helping you out is the greatest part of his day and he actually physically deflates and pouts if you do something yourself (the princess treatment - I can’t 😫).

Imagine if you decide to dye a part of your hair blue to match his though - he’ll be absolutely starstruck (not that he wouldn’t be for any other colour, mind you) and his heart eyes would be ever present for a fortnight and no amount of teasing, snickers or snide mutters of how whipped he is would ever be able to get rid of them. 

No but it is seriously becoming a problem. Even the teachers are done with him.

(“Mr Spade, do I have to once again remind you that the lesson is on the board and not at the back of Miss (Last Name)’s head,” snaps Professor Crewel, as he mentally reminds himself of the bottle of Rosé that he keeps hidden in his office.)

He just loves and cherishes you very much okay.

#deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #fem reader

[celaenaeiln]

12 am anon back at it again. my friend called me at 2 am, tipsy on i wanna say wine??? and ranted about how nightwing’s “superpower” is his charisma for like 15 mins . and then they talked about how he looks like he’d have a great spice tolerance before hanging up. i think its a hyperfixation .

I absolutely love it!! You and your friend just have the best conversations ever.

Your ask immediately reminded me of this scene from YJ Season 3

"That's just about everyone. Wasn't sure they'd all respond."

"You command more respect than you realize."

"I'm starting to get that."

Literally this boy has charisma oozing out of his pores. It absolutely is his superpower!

Charisma is known as "a personal magic of leadership arousing special popular loyalty or enthusiasm for a public figure" or "the quality of being able to attract, charm and influence those around you." And Dick is the living embodiment of it.

It's actually a canon trait of his

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #5

Dick has the unique ability to lead people. It's not just about telling others what to do, it's people wanting to follow him, listen to him, and and accepts his commands of their own volition.

In the DC/RWBY comic, the RWBY team crosses over to Gotham with all their problems so they have to work together with Batman, Batgirl, and Nightwing (Ruby REALLY gets along with Dick which for some reason makes so much sense idk why). And the batfamily get superpowers.

And DC-

DC LITERALLY WENT-

DC/RWBY Issue #3

THEY ACTUALLY GAVE HIM THE POWER OF INSPIRATION. THEY SAID "if anyone has the ability to lead people to a better life, give them light and hope, and be everyone's favorite leader and savior, then there is only one person to which we can attribute this power to."

Inspiration is the factor that leads people to moving mountains, becoming greater, and changing our entire lives and everyone else and Dick is the one who bestows that power.

He literally inspires people to be better and inspires them to follow him and became the greatest they can be.

Teen Titans (2003) Issue #33

He just has the ability to inspire people to reach greater heights. The younger generation, his own, and the older ones kind of hero worship him.

Charisma is a dangerous power to have. It's essentially the unique ability to convince people to want to do things for you.

Examples of charismatic leaders are Martin Luther King Jr, Joan of Arc, Fidel Castro, and Napolean.

These people moved nations, worlds, societies but they are only one person. And Dick, has the ability to do this too.

To describe him as a person, to describe his charismatic authority, you need to combine all those figures into one person. And that's the equivalent of his power.

Because in the comics when he wants something - the whole superhero society answers.

The Titans (1999) Issue #39

On a separate note, Dick does have a high spice tolerance!

Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #1

Also Romani food is made hot and spicy, commonly using chili, paprika, and red and black pepper. So he can definitely handle the heat.

Lol I'm just imagining Dick absent-mindedly chewing on a red chili pepper while he watches Garth dare Wally to eat a ghost pepper while Donna's rolling her eyes and Roy's hyperventilating on the floor because he's having flashbacks to Ollie's Chilli.

#dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #konner kent #super boy #fun fact: GA's Chili is so spicy that Supes has to use his freeze breath. Batman and GA are the only two people in all of DC who can eat it #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!

[itoshiexx]

warmth

synopsis: you were satoru's sun, and he loved to bask on your warmth. until your flames died out and you became a cold star.

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader | words: 485 | warnings: angst, character death

notes: just a lil something i wrote while i was sad today. this is probably shit. also i really hope gojo's pic is from the manga, but since i'm not following it up, PLEASE let me know if it isn't!

at a certain point in his life, satoru learned he needed warmth.

perhaps it had always been there; that need growing deep in his core, gnawing at his insides the more his infinity separated him from the rest of the world. he thinks it was somehow inevitable. his abnormal power was lonely in all its forms, and quite literally made him feel cold, nearly shaking his bones. the more he improved his technique, the more he felt like the warmth given by the sun wasn’t enough — because although it passed through his invisible barrier, it never actually reached and penetrated his skin. 

with time, he learned that the only thing that was ever able to satisfy him was the warmth given by another human being. 

that being said, it was no shock satoru’s love language was physical touch. after he met you and his heart inevitably became yours, all he knew how to do was touch you somehow, so that the heat of your body could pass to his. it was the only thing that kept him sane in a world full of curses and the weight of being the strongest sorcerer in the world. it was the only thing that made him feel human, like he was more than just the gojo name and his six eyes. 

his lips were always tracing your shoulders and your neck, feeling your pulse to remind him you were alive. his ears were always glued to your chest, listening to your breathing so that he knew you were there, by his side. his hands always wandered through your waist, your hips, your arms, just taking any opportunity to remember someone, throughout the heavens and the earth, loved him as just satoru, and not whatever else he became due to his heritage. 

you became satoru’s sun, scorching with life amongst too many deaths. the beam of your smile was enough sizzle to bring him back from a dark abyss, giving his life more meaning besides being the honored one. 

your warmness was his lifeline, the one thing he held onto so that he didn’t lose his way. 

but as he would come to learn, love was the greatest curse of all; a beautiful thing that was never meant to last. as fast as the chilling blizzard of winter, one day darkness swallowed his sun whole, wilting its gleam and killing every flame until it was nothing but a big, black sea of nothingness — like it never even shined in the first place. as if its heat wasn’t the only thing keeping him going. as if your existence wasn’t the only thing in this universe worthy of devotion. 

the higher ups said it’s not the end of the world, gojo. but those old geezers couldn’t be more wrong.

for satoru, holding your cold body and no longer feeling your warmth was exactly what the end of the world felt like.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

#jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x gn!reader #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru angst

[mint-yooxgi]

{4} - Written in the Stars - Yandere!Idol!Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Soft Yandere AU & Idol AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor, Slow Burn

Pairing: Yeosang X Reader (ft. future Ateez and Skz ensemble)

Words: 12,502

Warnings: Slow burn. Minor fatshaming, oc gets called a bitch a few times (not by anyone important), minor assault and uncomfortable/inappropriate comments made towards the oc. K-Drama moment. I think that's all This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: It's been literally forever since I updated this omg, but I hope you all enjoy this part!! I'll edit it tomorrow after I wake up, so please excuse any mistakes. I'm super tired and not feeling the greatest at the moment because of it. Anyways, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Disclaimer: It's not often this chapter where this applies, but the following is important to note:

"This represents a line spoken in Korean."

"Bolded represents a line spoken in English."

"Bolded and italics represents a line spoken in Japanese."

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Placing the mug onto the table in front of you, you pull out a chair and sit down.

“I’m serious!” Winry laughs. “Rumour on the street is that you and Yuta are dating! After those images of him holding your hand at that award’s show went viral, it was the talk of the town.”

Letting out a puff of air, you run a hand over the top of your head. “It must not be a very popular story. Mark hasn’t said anything about it to me.”

“Maybe he’s jealous.” She shrugs, taking a sip from the mug you’ve already provided for her.

Immediately, you start laughing. “I highly doubt that.”

“Yuta is your biggest wrecker in NCT,” she shrugs casually.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.” You reply.

“You told him that Ten is your bias, but not the fact that Yuta is your wrecker?” Winry quirks a brow.

“Essentially,” your shoulder lifts nonchalantly in confirmation. “Also told him that he was my first NCT bias cause he wouldn’t stop complaining about it.”

“Damn,” she breathes. “Boy must have ascended when you told him that.”

“You’re blowing things out of proportion.” You shake your head teasingly. “They’re just my friends.”

“Are you sure they think that?” She quirks a brow. 

Only, before you can respond, her phone rings. 

“I’m so sorry,” she grins sheepishly, checking who the caller is. “It’s Wyatt.”

Understanding passes over your features. “Well, aren’t you going to answer it?”

“Are you sure?” She looks genuinely hesitant to.

“Of course! He’s your significant other, after all!” You encourage her to answer by motioning towards her phone. “You haven’t talked lately cause of his business trip, right? Please, be my guest!”

A grateful smile tugs onto her lips as she stands from your kitchen table. Not even a moment later, she’s pressing accept on the call as she retreats into your living room for a bit more privacy.

You watch her disappear around the couch, noticing how she tucks herself away in the corner by the balcony. Her voice is low, so you can’t really make out what she says, but from the expression on her face you can tell just how happy she is to be talking with him. You smile.

Shifting your gaze to your hands, you pull your mug in closer to yourself. A moment later, you bring it to your lips, taking a small sip of the hot chocolate you’ve made. At least it’s cool enough for you to drink now.

Pulling your phone out of the side pocket of your leggings, you decide to distract yourself for the time being. You don’t want Winry to feel as if she has to rush her conversation with her significant other. After all, they haven’t spoken in over a week, let alone seen each other recently. With their busy schedules, you can’t even remember the last time she spoke about seeing him.

Scrolling through Tumblr, you check your notifications. 

Despite being a published author, you still maintain some of your blogs from before. The sentiment is far too great for you to give up now, and you enjoy it too much. Besides, it’s fun to post little pieces here and there on your old writing accounts. When inspiration strikes, it strikes hard.

There are only a few select people that know you still do this. Well, more than just a few. Still, it’s quite fun to see new readers message you asking you if you’re really who they think you are, only for you to reply that you are not. It’s like a huge game of detective for your followers that are convinced you are who you say you are not, but don’t have any proof. Of course, you use an alias online now, but regardless, you don’t think you could give up your blogs, even if you tried.

“Sorry about that.” Winry’s voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts.

Locking your phone, you place it beside your mug on the table. "No worries at all; I don’t mind.”

She smiles, but from the way she begins to fidget in her seat, you can tell that she has more to say.

You quirk a brow.

“Wyatt came back a few days early. He said he wanted to surprise me, but when he got back to our apartment, I wasn’t at home.” She begins.

You hum in acknowledgement.

“He said he had a surprise he wanted to give me, and that he wanted to take me out for the day.” She continues. “I told him I was spending time with you.”

You take another sip of your drink.

“Of course, he seemed a little disappointed, but he understood-“

“Winry, if you want to go spend the day with your significant other, don’t worry about me.” You reply.

“But we planned for us to spend the day together…” She counters, shoulders twitching as she fiddles with her hands beneath the table.

“I know you want to see him.” You smile assuringly. “It’s been, what? Two months?”

“Almost three.” She breathes out, whole body stilling as she stares at the top of your kitchen table almost absentmindedly.

“Then, by all means! Go! Spend the day with him!” You motion for her to stand. “We can always reschedule. Who knows when you’ll get to see him like this again.”

“Are you sure?” Hopeful eyes meet your own.

“Positive.” You nod, quite enthusiastically. “Go have fun with Wyatt! We saw each other last week, and I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

It’s as if a tension lifts from her entire body. “You’re the best!”

You laugh, watching as she scrambles to her feet and towards the front door. “I know.”

“I owe you. Big time for this.” She says as you follow her to the front. “Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

“I need to run a few errands, anyways.” You wave her off, holding your mug delicately in your one hand. “Gives me an excuse to go do some things I’ve been putting off before tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, your signing is tomorrow, right?” She finishes slipping on her shoes.

You nod.

“We’ll be there.” She states, rather firmly.

“You don’t have to-“

“Nonsense!” She shakes her head. “I’m coming to support you, and I’m dragging his ass along with me, too. Payback for this little ‘surprise’.”

The two of you share a small laugh.

“Okay, well, say ‘hi’ for me, and have fun!” You smile, holding the door open for her as she exits your apartment.

“Will do!” She calls over her shoulder as she heads down the hallway. “See you later!”

Waving your final goodbye, you shut the door softly. As soon as the lock clicks into place, a small sigh is escaping your lips. Well, there go your plans of spending your day with your friend.

Oh, well. It happens.

Stopping off in the kitchen on your way back to the table, you’re quick to place your now empty mug in the sink. A few steps later, you’ve moved over to grab your phone off of the top of the table, shifting to put Winry’s glass into the sink as well. 

Leaning against the counter, you scroll through your phone. You do have a few things you could get done today, but you weren’t really planning on doing them until later. Perhaps you can find a café or something when you’re finished, and get some writing done.

A sudden message from Jongho in the group chat catches your attention. It appears that they’re all at the dance studio for practice, as he’s sent a selfie to go along with it. Only, you can tell he was really sneaking a picture of the two males doing… whatever it is that they’re doing in the background.

You:Please tell me that’s some kind of elaborate stretch I’ve never heard about and not choreo for your next comeback.

You: And if it’s neither… Damn, you guys really get it on in the studio? I heard some of you were freaky, but I didn’t think you were that bad

Mingi: BAHAHAHAHAHAHA

You honestly laugh at how many emojis this man uses.

Seonghwa: Why? Are you interested in what goes on during practice?

Yunho: Wanna watch?

The side eyes Yunho sends you have you quirking a brow.

Jongho: Uh-oh, now the hot Cheeto is mad.

Another picture is sent, this time of Wooyoung angrily storming towards where you believe Jongho to be sitting. You can see both Mingi and San laughing in the background of this one while Hongjoong just looks exasperated.

Wooyoung: If you’re gonna sneak pictures of me in compromising positions to send to our sexy author friend, at least make sure to get my good side.

Jongho: What ‘good side’?

Wooyoung:Do you see? Do you see the harsh words I have to put up with from my junior everyday?

Yeosang: To be fair, he’s not the only one wondering

At the pondering emoji Yeosang uses, you cannot help but send a few laughing ones of your own.

Wooyoung: NOT YOU, TOO!

Wooyoung: First, you break my heart by giving me false hope that I’m your bias. Then, you won’t even tell me that I’m your wrecker. And now, you LAUGH at my MISERY?

Wooyoung: You are a meanie >:(

You:Wait wait wait

You: I knew that, but how did YOU know that? :0

A slew of laughing emojis are sent from a bunch of the guys, you smiling down at your phone. This short interaction has really served to boost your mood, and you cannot help the way a few chuckles escape you as you read their continued banter back and forth.

Hongjoong: You should come hang out with us sometime during practice. At least that way I know Wooyo will behave.

You can practically hear the whine Wooyoung is sure to let out in response as you read this message, and you cannot prevent the way your lips quirk upwards.

Seonghwa: Yeah! The staff seem to like you, and our manager already said it was okay.

A moment where you see a few of them typing their responses.

Wooyoung: Besides… you’d get to watch us dance~

You: Be honest, is this another one of your attempts to figure out my bias?

Hongjoong: No! 

Hongjoong: Most definitely not! 

Hongjoong: Why would you think that? 

Hongjoong: I would never!

You receive a photo from Yeosang of Hongjoong intensely staring down at his phone, his ears clearly bright red as he pouts.

Yunho:Betrayal…

You shake your head in amusement.

You: As long as you can guarantee I won’t be in the way, or be too much of a distraction… I’ll think about it.

Several various cheering emojis are sent to you by some clearly overexcited males (Wooyoung, Mingi, and Jongho), while the others are able to type out their excitement with small phrases.

San: Since we’re now all apparently taking a break… what are you up to currently?

You: Me? Well, I was supposed to spend the day with a friend, but something came up, so now I’m going to go run some errands. Might find a café of something and do some writing.

Hongjoong: Did you even get any sleep last night?

You: Hey! Of course I did! Besides, you’re one to talk. I woke up to five messages all an hour apart. You were up WAY later than I was. You need more sleep than I do!

Hongjoong: It’s not my fault I do my best work at night.

A meme is sent from you of a man in a purple shirt pointing his finger in the air while saying ‘you got me there’.

You: I swear, one of these days I’m going to knock you unconscious and FORCE you to sleep

Hongjoong: That’s rich, considering YOU are practically always awake when I am

Another meme is sent from you of a stuffed bear wrapped in a blanket burrito while laying on a bed. A knife peeks out from the blanket. The caption reads something along the lines of, ‘I will sneak into your house and replace all your drinks with sleepy time tea. You will be forced to breathe in comforting scents which soothe the mind, and as you fall unconscious, the last image you will have is of me smiling over you with a nice warm blanket tucking you in. This is a THREAT.’

Wooyoung: If this is how you threaten people, then I want IN

Mingi: Oh, oh! Threaten ME next!

You: You would not BELIEVE how many times my one friend sends me this, especially when it’s like, five am my time, and they’re just sitting down for dinner in their time zone.

Hongjoong: You drive a hard bargain…

Yunho: My god, I think he’s actually listening for once…

Seonghwa: I have been trying for YEARS-

Hongjoong: It only works if she’s the one to do it.

Wooyoung: I’d listen, too, if I had a pretty lady always telling me what to do.

San: Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re an obedient sub.

Wooyoung: LIKE YOU WERE THINKING ANY DIFFERENT!

The cackle that escapes you nearly causes you to drop your phone.

Mingi: Wooyo’s got a point…

You: Am I suddenly in the wrong group chat?

Yunho: Nope, same one. You should see how mad Jongho looks right now.

A photo is provided by Wooyoung this time of the youngest sitting against the mirrors with a frown on his face. He hugs his knees to his chest as he stares down at his phone.

Your own brows furrow in confusion, but before you can respond, Yeosang beats you to it.

Yeosang: Will you all stop fucking flirting with each other?

You nearly drop your phone.

San: Oop- we’ve gone and made Yeo mad

Wooyoung: Just cause YOU’RE not her favourite doesn’t mean you have to spoil OUR fun, Sangie.

You: Woah, woah, woah, who said he’s not my favourite?

This seems to shut all of them up for a good few minutes.

Seonghwa: Yeosang’s your bias?

Another minute of silence.

Yunho: You seem to have incited a war.

Another picture is sent. A pile consisting of Yeosang, Jongho, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong all seemingly rolling around on the floor is shown. San stands to the side with Mingi, the former attempting to pull the pile of males on the floor apart while the latter laughs.

You send some side eye emojis along with a few laughing faces.

You: You guys are really THAT desperate to know who my bias is?

Mingi: Does that mean Yeosang ISN’T your bias?

A shrugging emoji is all he receives from you in response. For now.

You: Any one of you could or couldn’t be my main bias. 

You: Like I said, you have to buy me a drink first ;)

Wooyoung: Why can’t you just tell us? :(

A sigh escapes you, thumbs hovering in the air over the keyboard as multiple of them seem to agree with Wooyoung’s inquiry.

You: It’s just a personal thing I have. 

You: I don’t mind telling other people, but when it comes to the actual people it involves, it’s a different story. I don’t know how much my opinion of each of you matters, but I’ve never really enjoyed picking favourites when that choice is told to said people. I don’t like the connotations of multiple people getting their hopes up that I’ll pick them as my favourite, only to choose someone else. I don’t like disappointing people, and I also am all too familiar with the feeling of not even being someone’s last choice. If I tell you who I bias, it will most likely be at some point when we’re one on one. If you’re still interested at that point.

You:I just-

You: Did that make sense? I can try and explain it better if you need me to.

Yeosang: We understand. Don’t force yourself to do something that makes you uncomfortable.

Wooyoung: Don’t worry! We’ll stop bothering you about it.

Yunho: Wooyoung… just agreed to stop pestering someone…

San: It’s a Christmas miracle!

Jongho: He’s still pouting about it in the corner…

A photo is received showing both Hongjoong, Mingi, and Wooyoung all standing dejectedly in the corner.

You: Damn, are you guys going to start growing mushrooms like Tamaki from Ouran now, too? I didn’t realize my opinion of you mattered so much.

You: If it makes you all feel any better, I think you’re all wonderful people. I thought that before I met you, and getting to know you all has only solidified that fact.

Quite a few typing bubbles appear onscreen. A moment later, you’re flooded by emoticons either blushing, screaming, and, or crying happily with hearts surrounding them.

Seonghwa: You’re a great friend

A soft smile caresses your features as you read his comment, a subtle heat rising up your neck. At the way the others all emphasize Seonghwa’s message, you cannot help the way your heart begins to flutter inside your chest. Truly, his words mean the world to you, and the fact the others agree with him is simply icing on the cake.

After sending a quick response to them, you decide to actually get out of your apartment for the day. It takes you no time at all to grab your one notebook, some writing tools, and your laptop, just in case. Packing everything into your one small cream coloured tote with the Skz Zoo characters on it that you got from their one concert, you head towards the door.

Slipping your shoes on, you grab your purse, slinging that over your opposite shoulder. You do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you still look okay before slipping out of the door. The faint clicking sound of the lock sliding into place is starting to become a familiar comfort to you every time you leave your apartment, walking down the hallway towards the elevators in the next second.

The ride down to the main floor is a bit slow, you focussing on your phone the whole time. Naver Maps rests open on the screen, doing a quick search of the area to find the best stores for what you’re looking for. Already, you have a mental list of what you need to get, and you figure doing that before settling down in a café to write will do you some good. That way, if you get on a roll, you don’t have to worry about cutting your time short to pick up what you need.

Stepping into the lobby, you send a polite greeting to the security guard behind the front desk before exiting the building.

The moment you step outside, you head over to the bus stop. Sitting on the bench, you wait for the respective bus to come, plugging in your headphones all the while. At least you can take your time now, and maybe explore the area a bit more when you get back. If you’re up for that, that is.

Half an hour later, you find yourself at a small shopping centre. You don’t need much, but you do need to get a few new replacement pieces of makeup. Then, you figure you can check out the bookstore before finding a place to work on your novel.

The night of the award’s show, you managed to finish off both your favourite shade of red lipstick, as well as your liquid eyeliner. Normally, you don’t wear makeup very often, but since you have a bunch of events coming up, and no personal stylist, you figure you should at least look somewhat put together. Not that that ideal will last long.

Still, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Entering a few different cosmetic stores, you search around for the best deal. The first one you went into was sold out of the liquid liner you like to use, anyways. You swear by it, as it’s application is the easiest to deal with. At least, in your opinion. That, and it dries quickly, and isn’t prone to smudging.

Perhaps you should also get a pencil liner while you’re at it…

Standing in front of the display with your favourite shade of red lipstick already held in your one hand, you look over all of the options. It appears as if this store is having a sale on their eyeliner, the words ‘buy one, get one half off’ practically glaring back at you from the sign.

Your eyes light up as you spot your favourite liquid liner. Almost instantly, your hands reach out to grab one of the last two on the shelf. Then, comes the hard part. Picking a pencil liner to go with it.

That’s when you notice another person shifting closer to you almost timidly.

Turning your head, you see a person somewhat hesitantly standing a few feet away. Their appearance is slightly androgynous, their black hair falling to their shoulders in a semi-wolf cut. Every now and then, you see their gaze darting to you almost nervously, their eyes lined with black liner.

“I like your hair,” you hum, purposely focussing on the display in front of you as you pull one of the two options you’ve been looking at off of the shelf. “I think it suits you nicely.”

Almost instantly, the person’s eyes light up despite them averting their gaze, “Thank you.”

You blink, as if realizing something.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m completely blocking the display.” You step to the side, smiling politely at the person beside you.

Timidly, they smile back, taking a step in closer to the display.

Reaching your one hand forward, you pull the other pencil liner you’ve been considering off of the shelf to compare it to the other one in your opposite hand. Your brow furrows, looking over each one of them carefully and attempting to find out what the difference is between the two brands.

“I personally like this one better.” A voice from your right draws your attention, and you notice the person beside you glancing down at the liner in your right hand. “It last longer, and if you want to go for a smokey eye, it blends really nicely.”

“Really?” Your voice sounds hopeful.

“Yeah!” They smile somewhat shyly. “Though, if you don’t want it to smudge, then I would go with the other one you’re holding. It’s more of a gel pencil, if that makes sense.”

Softly, you nod your head. “I don’t usually wear a lot of makeup, but I never fuck around with my eyeliner.”

“Oh, yeah. Eyeliner can practically smell fear.” They joke.

A small laugh escapes you, and you notice them chuckling along, too.

“To be honest, I’ve never really been into makeup, but I don’t mind it every now and then.” You admit, sparing a glance down at the products held in your hand.

“I love it.” They say, only for their whole body to stiffen in the next second. It’s almost as if they said something wrong, for they glance towards you in what you can only assume is fear in the next moment.

“That’s so cool!” You grin, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I really love the way you’ve done your eyes today. It really makes them pop.”

Instantly, their shoulders relax and they shuffle a bit from foot to foot. “Thank you.”

“When I was younger, I was always obsessed with different coloured eyeliner.” You say, putting the one pencil liner back onto the shelf since you’ve decided to go with the other one for now. “Never used them, but I would always beg my mom to buy them for me.”

“I think my mom nearly had a stroke the first time I asked her to buy lipstick for me.” They voice lowly, as if sharing a precious secret. “She was a little hesitant at first, but when she saw how much I loved it, she couldn’t resist getting me more. Now, it’s like a recurring joke between us for her to get me a new shade every year for my birthday.”

“I love this for you!” You grin widely. “That’s honestly the best.”

“I’ve always wanted to work in the film industry for a few years now, but it’s quite competitive even getting a foot in the door.” They tell you.

“I can imagine.” You nod sympathetically before your eyes are widening as if you’ve just realized something. Then, quickly, you’re introducing yourself, seeing as you haven’t bothered to yet.

“I’m still working on that name stuff, but for now you can call me Zed.” They say, bowing slightly to you.

You bow back.

Ten more minutes are spent talking with Zed in front of that display. You even manage to go on your brief makeup is gender neutral rant after they express the same ideals.

“Everything is gender neutral if you’re brave enough.” You comment lowly, adjusting the strap of your purse over your one shoulder.

“Here, here.” They mock toast you with the few products held in their one hand.

“By the way, you mentioned being a makeup artist, correct?” You meet their gaze.

“Yeah, you’re correct.” They nod once in confirmation.

“This may be really weird considering we just met, but if you’re free tomorrow morning, I have an event I need to attend, and I would love someone to do my makeup for me. I’m not the greatest artist myself, and I would definitely pay you for your work!” You begin, somewhat shyly.

“Sure! What time would you need me to be at the place?” They ask.

Five minutes later, and you’ve exchanged contact information with them after explaining the details.

“I thought you looked familiar.” They mumble, almost to themselves. “I heard about that speech you gave two weeks ago, it was all over the news. I just didn’t realize that that was you.”

“Yep!” You chuckle, grinning widely from ear to ear. “That’s me!”

“Is that why you’re picking up products today?” They quirk a brow.

“One of the reasons.” You confirm. “I have the rest at home, but you’re more than welcome to bring whatever you think you may need tomorrow. I know it’s super short notice, and we just met, but I really appreciate you agreeing to do this for me.”

“Hey,” they shrug, “work is work. As long as you’re serious about it, that is.”

“Of course!” Comes your immediate reply. “You’re also welcome to message me anytime! I really enjoyed talking with you today.”

“Me too,” they smile.

“Thanks for the recommendation, by the way.” You wiggle the pencil liner held in your hand.

“No worries at all.” They chuckle. “You looked like you were struggling, and I’m always happy to help.”

You begin to make your way towards the cash line with Zed in tow. Except, you notice them holding only one liner in their hand, as opposed to the two they had earlier.

“Are you not going to get the other one, too?” You tilt your head curiously. “It’s buy one, get one fifty percent off.”

“I don’t think two is in the budget for me right now,” they chuckle, somewhat embarrassedly. “Money’s a little tight between jobs.”

You pause momentarily, turning right back around and pulling the other product they had been looking at off the shelf before grabbing the other one that’s still held in their hand.

“What are you doing?” Their voice is a little frantic as they follow closely behind you.

“Buying something for my friend.” You reply, somewhat matter-of-factly. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You don’t have to!” Immediately, they begin to protest.

“Think of it as a small ‘thank you’ from me to you in advance of tomorrow.” You reply, stepping into line with them beside you. “Besides, I want to.”

They purse their lips slightly, shuffling from foot to foot before muttering out a low thanks.

“Don’t even worry about it!” You smile at Zed. “It’s my pleasure.”

Idly, you continue to chat with them as you wait to be cashed out. As soon as you’re done, you hand them their items while standing just outside the store.

“Thank you so much.” They breathe, almost in relief.

“Really, it’s no problem.” You smile, tucking your own items into your tote bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Just text me the details as soon as you can, and I’ll be there!” They reply eagerly, tucking their own products into their back pocket.

“Of course!” You wave as they begin to take their leave. “Talk to you later!”

The moment they’re out of sight, you cannot help but smile more to yourself. They were so nice, and you honestly loved every second of that interaction with them. If only more people were like them.

Adjusting the strap of your tote, you turn back to face the other shops lining the space. There’s really only one other store you’d like to check out before leaving to find a café soon.

On the way to the bookstore, you quickly text all of the information Zed will need for tomorrow to them. They reply quickly with a ‘thanks!’ And some excited emoticons.

Again, you grin to yourself, happy to have made a new friend.

Rounding the corner of the hallway, you spot the bookstore at the end of the row. The sign is bright, and you can see a bunch of people milling about the one section near the front. Despite this not being the store you’ll be having your signing in, there seems to be a large display of your books in the middle of the store. Luckily, your picture doesn’t seem to be anywhere near the table like the last bookstore you had visited.

Shuffling passed a few people, you’re quick to head over to the manga section. There’s a volume of Tokyo Ghoul in Korean that continues to elude you no matter how hard you try and find it. You really just want it to complete your collection at this point, and it has one of your favourite characters on the front.

Crouching down to look on the bottom shelf where you see the different volumes of the manga you’re looking for residing, you’re quick to scan them all. Your eyes practically light up as you see the one you’re looking for, only a sharp gasp coming from down the row draws your attention.

The sound of quick feet approaching you causes you to look up to see a girl and two guys rushing over to you.

“Hi, oh my gosh, are you the author of this book series?” The girl excitedly holds out a copy of the second novel in your first published series.

You blink up at her owlishly, “Uh…”

“You’re so cool! I really admire your work!” She squeals, drawing even more attention to yourself from the people around you.

“Thank you,” you smile politely.

“Anyways, I’m so sorry for interrupting you.” Her face immediately goes bright red as she averts her gaze. “Do you think I could get a quick picture before I leave?”

“Sure!” Slowly, you stand back to your feet.

Handing her phone to one of the guys behind her, the girl steps into your side. A wide smile is on her face as she throws up a peace sign, holding your book proudly on display. You immediately mirror her enthusiastic expression, heart warming at how happy she looks.

After a few pictures are taken, she’s turning to you once again.

“Thank you so much!” She bows lowly, nearly hitting her head on the table beside you with a full display of One Piece on it. “Again, sorry for bothering you!”

You have just enough time to mutter a ‘not at all’, before she’s giddily hopping away with the two other males in tow.

Turning back to the shelves of manga, you go to crouch down once more to pull the volume of Tokyo Ghoul off of the bottom.

“Hello, My Love.” A voice says from above you.

Figuring the person is talking to someone else, you opt to ignore them for now. Instead, you reach out to finally pull the volume off of the shelf.

A harsh clearing of someone’s throat is heard as a shadow looms above you.

“I said,”they say, much more firmly this time as they nudge you, not very gently, with their foot, “Hello, My Love.”

The sudden push causes you to stumble slightly, steadying yourself on the bookcase in front of you.

Turning your head, you peer up at the person, a slight frown tugging at your features. Quickly, you stand back to your feet as you see a male staring at you quite expectantly. He appears irritated, the corner of his lips tugging downwards, standing slightly shorter than you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“My bad, I didn’t realize you were speaking to me.” You incline your head in apology. “But please, don’t call me that.”

His brow quirks, clearly amused by your response. “Aren’t you into that shit, though?”

“Excuse me?”To say you’re caught off guard by his sudden attitude would be an understatement.

“You write about all that sappy romance stuff.” He replies.

“That doesn’t give you a right as a stranger to invade my personal space, or say something like that. I don’t know you.” You blink at him.

A puff of air escapes his nose in annoyance. “But you’re that author chick.”

“And?” Your brow furrows even further, taking a small step away from him.

“Come on, Baby, don’t be like that.” He sighs, his jaw twitching.

“You’re the one that approached me.” You counter. “And, please, don’t call me that.”

“You’re different than I thought you’d be.” He states, giving you a once over. “Bigger.”

“I’m sorry?” You recoil slightly, appalled by the sudden disgust on his features.

“I said you’re beautiful.”A sly grin pulls onto his features as he takes a step closer to you. “You’re not like other girls.”

You blink at him, quite rapidly at that in your state of shock. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, I think you know, Petal.” His eyes are suddenly hooded as he takes another step into you.

“Don’t call me that. Please.” You manage to slip around the corner of the table you’re standing beside.

“Why are you being so difficult?”The man mutters to himself, shaking his head. 

A call of someone’s name from the side draws both of your attention, and you see two more males staring intently at the one standing closest to you. The way they wear smug grins on their faces as they give you pointed once overs says it all.

“I’m getting there.” The man before you snaps at the two others.

“Did you want something?” It’s your own voice that seems to draw his attention back to you.

“Oh, look at you! You can speak a bit of Korean!” His tone is nothing short of condescending. “That’s wonderful!”

“I have nothing to say to you.” You state, rather bluntly before move to turn away from him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Where are you going, My Dear?” The way he drawls out that nickname has a shiver of disgust running down your spine. The fact that he snatches your wrist in his hand has panic seizing your entire body.

“Please, stop calling me those names.” You yank your wrist out of his hold. “Don’t touch me, either.”

“Come on, Darling,” his eyes flash, “don’t be like that. I only want to please you. To show you my devotion-“

“Get away from me!” You begin to scramble away from him, noticing you’ve started to draw some attention from a few of the staff members working in the store.

The two other males suddenly turn and begin to head towards the exits while two staff members approach you.

“What’s wrong with you?” There is nothing but ire on his features as he spits out these words at you. “All I’m offering is a chance for you to recreate those sex scenes from your books with me. A once in a lifetime opportunity, if you ask me. It’s not like people are lining up to be with you, anyways. You should be grateful I’m even giving a fat bitch like you attention.”

“Is everything okay here?” An older gentleman with a name tag interrupts, looking between both you and the male before you.

“I’m sorry to cause a commotion, Sir.” The way you immediately incline your head in respect to the elder male clearly catches him off guard. That, and the fact that you actually answer him in proper Korean. “This man won’t leave me alone, and is making me extremely uncomfortable. He’s making rude and inappropriate comments towards me, and thinks he’s entitled to assault me.”

The woman standing beside the male gasps, recognition flashing in her eyes. Her one hand comes up to point at you, “You’re that author from the award’s show!”

This draws the attention of a few more people standing around you, whispers being heard as a few more people recognize you from the display of your books a few tables over.

Politely, you smile at the woman, nerves skyrocketing as more and more attention is brought upon you. Again, you incline your head in respect as she looks slightly younger than the man, but still older than you.

“You said this man was bothering you?” She immediately turns a sharp gaze to the person standing closest to you.

“I was just leaving.” He huffs, purposely brushing past you and bumping quite harshly into your side. “Fucking bitch.”

Eyes follow him all of the way out of the store as he rejoins his two friends in the hallway.

“Are you alright?” The older gentleman turns to look at you.

“Yes, thank you.” You once again bow to him. “I’m sorry, again, for causing a disruption.”

“It’s not your fault.” The lady shakes her head, immediately wrapping you gently in her arms and guiding you towards the back of the store. “Come with us, we’ll call security and have them escort you in case that man comes back.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You smile lightly, seeing as she sends a kind one back.

Looks like you’re not getting that volume of Tokyo Ghoul today, either.

Sitting in the staff room at the back of the store, you let out a long sigh. You clutch your tote close to yourself, purse resting between your feet on the floor. Your phone resides in your hands, and you scroll aimlessly through Tumblr while you wait for security to reach the bookstore.

Opening your messages, you’re quick to type one out.

You: Why do people feel entitled to another person?

Placing your phone upside-down on the table before you, you let out another sigh. Not even a moment later, you pick your phone back up.

Jongho: Did something happen?

Mingi:Is everything alright?

Hongjoong: Are you okay?

Your eyes widen at how quickly you’ve gotten responses, but that’s when you realize: you texted the wrong chat.

You: Shit, sorry! Wrong chat! Just forget I said anything.

Wooyoung: You message something as ominous as that and expect us NOT to be worried?

Yunho: Jongho’s already putting his shoes on.

You: Wait, does that mean you guys are done with practice for today?

Seonghwa: NO, we are NOT!

You:… you guys don’t wear shoes when you practice?

Yunho: We do, it was just a figure of speech.

San: He meant that Mingi and Yeosang are holding Jongho back from racing out the door as we speak.

You: Damn, this reminds me of my wondrous ‘protection squad’ days.

Seonghwa: Protection squad days?

You: Nevermind. Like I said, just forgot I said anything.

The door opens and in walks security. You take a few minutes to describe what happened and what the man that assaulted you looks like before the two guards are escorting you out of the store. One walks in front while the other walks behind you.

“We’ll lead you to your car, or the bus stop, and stay with you until you leave.” The one says to you.

“Thank you very much, I really appreciate it.” You bow slightly while walking.

The guard simply smiles at you from over his shoulder in response.

Once you’re on the correct bus on your way back to your apartment, you finally allow yourself to breathe a sigh of relief. Pulling out your phone, you check your notifications.

Immediately, you’re greeted by tons of worried messages from the boys, and even a few from some Stray Kids members. Looks like Wooyoung told Changbin, who in turn told Minho, Hyunjin, and Seungmin.

You: I promise I’m fine, just an uncomfortable encounter at a store.

Another round of messages are sent to you by the Ateez members, and you reassure them yet again.

You: Well, I could go for some boba now as a pick me up. Any of you know a good place in the area? The one by my house just closed for renos.

You notice a few of them typing a response before the first one comes in.

Yeosang: There’s one in the back alleys near Sinsa that’s really good. I’ll send you the address.

A moment later, a link to the Naver page is uploaded to the chat by Yeosang.

You: Thank you!!

Wooyoung: Daaaaaaamn Yeosang, you had that ready and LOADED

San: Don’t hate the man just cause he was prepared.

Yunho: Well, WE may have to prepare HIS funeral now

A photo of Yeosang being held in a headlock by Jongho is sent to you almost immediately after that message gets sent.

You laugh, a smile pulling at your features as you shake your head at your phone.

You: Don’t hate the player, hate the game.

A few more messages are sent between all of you, ending with you wishing them luck with the rest of practice. They eagerly tell you to come visit them soon, to which you reply that you will.

Twenty minutes later, and after switching buses once, you find yourself standing outside of the little boba shop Yeosang recommended to you. It has a cute little awning over the door, a soft pink in colour, while large windows line the front of the shop. It doesn’t look too busy, from what you can see, but the menu has a variety of options and you are more than eager to try them.

A small bell jingles as you enter the shop, the worker behind the counter smiling politely at you as you approach. Luckily, you already know what you want to order from looking at the sign outside, so you manage to do that fairly quickly. 

Five minutes later, you have your glass in hand as you seclude yourself in a corner seat. There’s a half-wall with plants resting on top of it to your left, while an open view of the store sits to your right. You’re directly across from the entranceway, but you cannot see the order counter, nor the worker anymore. Two more tables sit to your right, a small hallway stretching down after that towards where you’re sure the bathrooms reside.

Your tote rests on your left between your body and the wall, while your purse is on the booth beside you to your right. Considering you have a wall behind you, and there aren’t very many people in the shop, you feel comfortable enough to pull your laptop out. Once you’ve set everything up, you’re taking a sip of your drink while staring at the document you had been working on last night.

Scrolling back up to the top of the chapter, you begin.

Editing what you wrote the previous night takes some time, but by the time an hour has passed, you’ve start to write more for the chapter you’re currently on. It took a little bit of time, but you finally know how you want to end this particular scene, and you’re challenging yourself to see if you can finish it before you finish your drink.

Unfortunately for you, you’ve always been a fast drinker. Especially when you haven’t had much to drink all day.

The sound of another glass being placed onto the table before you draws your attention from your screen.

“Sorry to interrupt you,” it’s the worker you ordered your drink from before. “I saw your speech from the awards show when it aired, and I just wanted to say I really admire you. Thank you for everything you do! I didn’t want to say anything before since I was on the clock, but my shift just ended and I noticed you hadn’t left yet, so I wanted to say something before I went home.” They smile shyly, “and give you a refill of your drink. Work hard, and have a lovely day!”

“Oh, thank you so much!” You smile back at them as they clear your empty glass from the table. “That’s so kind of you!”

A nod is all you get in response as a soft blush begins to dust their features. Not even a moment later, they turn away, leaving you on your own once more.

Another hour and a half passes by with you furiously typing away at your laptop. You’d like to say that you hardly get distracted, but there seems to be this one person who has been constantly walking passed your table in hopes for you to notice them. The first few times, you glanced up, eyes being drawn to the movement given how close they were to your table, but by the fifth time, you started to ignore them.

That is, until they decided to actually approach your table.

The conversation was short, and awkward. They kept stuttering over their words, not to mention they kept interrupting you while you’re trying to work.

That’s the one thing that irritates you no matter what. Nothing is worse than being in the middle of writing a scene, deep in the flow of words, only to be interrupted or distracted by someone. Really, you know it’s not their fault, but you still cannot help your annoyance at the situation. Once or twice, you can brush it off, but the third time they do it, you’re a little blunt with them when you respond. You don’t mean to be, but alas, it happens.

Approximately fifteen minutes go by without another interruption, and you manage to finish the scene you’re working on. You’re almost done with the current chapter, and all that’s really left to do is round it out, and edit the final product. To say you’re happy with what you’ve done would be an understatement.

This time, when you notice someone approaching your table, you don’t even bother to glance up. You figure it’s that person coming to bother you again, so you opt to continue typing away at your laptop, staring intently at your screen.

The sound of two glasses being placed onto the table has your ears quirking, even more so when you hear the chair across from you scraping against the floor.

A tremendous sigh escapes you, “Look-“

Your words die in your throat as you see the person now sitting across from you. They wear a black bucket hat, strands of what appears to be newly bleached hair sticking out from beneath the material. They blink at you with somewhat wide eyes, freezing in their movement of pushing a brand new cup of boba towards you.

“Yeosang?” You keep your voice low, blinking at him in mild shock. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles faintly, resuming his motion of pushing that one drink towards you. “Practice ended early.”

It is then that you glance at the time, seeing that it’s starting to become late into the afternoon. You honestly haven’t been keeping a close track of time while you’ve been here, only truly registering how long you’ve actually been writing for.

Softly, you close your laptop. “Aren’t you worried about being spotted?”

“Not here.” He shakes his head. “It’s actually a really common spot for a lot of us. The staff are discreet, and not many people know about it.”

Briefly, that interaction with that one worker earlier who brought you your second drink flashes through your mind. You smile in understanding, “I see.”

“Are you okay, though?” He blinks a few times, innocently. “You seemed irritated when I got here.”

Your eyes quickly scan the shop, not seeing that person who kept bothering you earlier in their spot by the windows.

“Better now,” you reply, honestly. “Just kept getting distracted, is all.”

“I thought you didn’t like using your laptop in public?” He quirks a brow, taking a sip of his own drink.

“When I’m up against the wall, anything goes.” You shrug, and almost immediately, he starts choking on his drink. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

He waves you off, hitting his chest with a fist lightly. 

Soon after, he clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“Good.” You chuckle faintly. “Last thing I need is your fans coming after me for choking out their favourite member.”

“I think you should be more worried about Wooyoung.” He comments, a hint of irritation on his face.

Your brow furrows, “Why?”

“He’d be next in line.”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head.

“I-“ you blink rapidly a few times, swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat. “Are you implying Wooyoung wants me to choke him?”

“He’s not the only one.” Yeosang replies, a slight bitterness lingering in his tone. “Mingi has spent many a night ranting about how he wants to be suffocated between your-“

Yeosang seemingly catches himself in the last second as he spares a glance at you.

Your mouth hangs open in pure disbelief, blinking at him in shock. You hands rest on the table before you, a vibrant heat rising to your cheeks. Of course, you can most certainly incur where Yeosang was going when he was speaking just now, your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

“Sorry.” He averts his gaze, somewhat embarrassed.

In the next moment, you’re shaking your head.

“No, no,” you manage to organize your thoughts, clearing your throat, “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“What? Surprised that some idols have horny fantasies, too?” He quirks a brow, slight amusement shining in his eyes.

“Oh, no.” Your nose scrunches as you shake your head mildly. “If they read my books and thoroughly enjoy them, that fact doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“Then, why do you look so shocked?” He tilts his head slightly in inquiry.

Your lips pull back in a tight smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m curious, though.” He blinks, taking another sip of his drink.

You reach out to grab the full glass, noticing how the drink appears to be the same one you’ve been drinking since you got here: matcha milk tea with pearls.

“You’re aware I am a fan of Ateez, correct?” You look at him somewhat expectantly.

“Believe me, I’m well aware.” He nods along with your words.

From the way he still stares at you, with those wide eyes, has you exhaling lowly.

“Let me put it this way,” you take a sip of your drink, noticing how the label said it had been made with soy milk. In the back of your head, you wonder if he knows you’re lactose intolerant, or if it was just a personal choice on his part. “How would you feel if you suddenly found out Emma Watson admitted to having sexual fantasies about you?”

Yeosang freezes right before your very eyes, nodding slowly as realization crosses his features. Then, as if making another connection, his brow furrows.

“You find Mingi attractive.” The statement is a bit blunt as he says this, grip tightening over his drink.

“I thought I told you that I find all of you attractive?” You quirk a brow playfully at him in response.

“Right.” He nods, seemingly in recollection before halting all movement once more. “But you desire Mingi.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that hint of bitterness is back in his voice again.

“I desire many things, Yeosang,” you begin. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to indulge in them.”

“But you would if he offered?” He places his glass a bit firmly back onto the top of the table.

“Probably not.” Your face scrunches slightly as you consider his words. “I don’t know him like that. I don’t know any of you like that, and it takes a lot for me to be intimate with another person in such a way.” You meet his gaze. “Are you familiar with the term demisexual?”

The way he blinks at you blankly is answer enough.

“It means a person has to have a strong emotional connection with someone before experiencing sexual attraction.” You explain.

He shakes his head, still not quite understanding.

“It means I don’t do hookups.” You add. “Hookup culture is not for me.”

Understanding crosses his features as his lips part slightly, a soft ‘oh’ falling from him in the next second.

“On top of that, I am also demiromantic.” You continue. “Meaning the same thing, only this time it’s considering romantic attraction. It takes a lot for me to fall in love, and it takes a lot for me to be intimate with someone.”

“So, you wouldn’t-“

“No.” You shake your head, cutting him off. “I may have desires, Yeosang, but there is a huge difference between reality and fiction.”

His eyes narrow slightly at you in response, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“You’ve fantasized before? About your bias?”

You nearly spit out your drink as you go to take a sip. Coughing a few times, you rub at your chest, noticing how he hasn’t torn his eyes off of you for a single second.

“I’ve fantasied more about my own characters.” You admit once you finally manage to get your breathing back under control.

“That’s not a ‘no’,” he hums, brow quirks slightly in amusement.

“Why? Suddenly curious about whether or not I’ve fantasized about you?” You turn the question back on him, noticing how he begins to splutter almost immediately.

The way red begins to slowly creep up his neck has you laughing.

“I’m just kidding.” You reach across the table to pat his hand gently. “Though, I could have sworn you were about to ask me about my Ateez bias again.”

He averts his eyes only briefly, “no.”

“I mean, if you want to know, I don’t mind telling you.” You shrug. “We are alone, and you did buy me a drink.”

You can see the sudden eager gleam in his eyes as he leans the slightest bit forward in his seat. His lips part, and you hear the breath he takes before his shoulders seemingly deflate. 

You quirk a brow.

He shakes his head, somewhat dejected. “I’d rather not.”

The way he suddenly looks tense before you has you cautiously trailing your gaze over him in response. You’re about to ask if he’s sure of not, but at the way he shakes his head, almost absentmindedly as his hand tightens around his drink once more is all the answer you need.

So, you decide to change the subject.

“How was practice?” Your soft inquiry seems to manage to pull him out of your thoughts.

You take another sip of your drink as he responds, a gentle tug of his lips upwards as he recounts the way Hongjoong had to chase Wooyoung at one point to continue learning the new choreography.

“You should have seen the way Jongho practically lunged at his phone each time it pinged.” Yeosang half rolls his eyes. “He thought it was you every time.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement, swirling the contents of your drink around in your hand. Honestly, your heart warms at the thought of Jongho being so excited to message you that he literally jumps at his phone every time.

“I thought you guys said I wouldn’t be a distraction?” You tease. “Just imagine what it would be like if I was actually there.”

“You think Mingi’s bad for using his pelvis during concerts?” Yeosang shakes his head, almost exasperatedly.

You laugh, tossing your head back as your eyes crinkle at the sides.

Again, once you manage to calm down, you notice Yeosang staring at you exactly like he did that first day you met him on the plane. Though, again, you brush it off.

“Well, I know for a fact the Mingi Stans are not complaining.” You grin. “You should see the amount of videos my friends who bias him send me of him when he does those things. It’s fun watching them freak out over it.”

“But you don’t?” He quirks a brow.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” You shrug casually. “I have my own selection of videos and pictures of my biases that ruin me in the best ways.”

“Ah, so you’re not immune.” He nods in understanding.

“Oh, most definitely not.” You snort. “I am just as…” you hum, searching for the right word, “feral as some of my friends. You just haven’t seen it, yet.”

“Are you offering to show me?” He quirks a brow.

“Depends.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards deviously. “When’s your next comeback, again?”

Yeosang leans back in his chair, observing you carefully. “You know, now that we’re friends, I think you should hype us all up more.”

“I can do that.” You readily agree. “Next comeback, I’ll give you all my live reactions. Well… within reason.”

“I look forward to it.” He grins.

“If the other guys get weirded out by it, then I’m blaming you.” You point an accusatory finger at him playfully.

“I’ll take full responsibility.” He raises his own hands in front of himself, almost as if in mock self-defence.

“You better,” you joke. “I don’t wanna lose my new friends that quickly. I really enjoy talking with you guys.”

Yeosang’s lips twitch upwards faintly in the corners, almost involuntarily. “I enjoy talking with you, too.”

“Oh?” You quirk a teasing brow. “Even when we flirt in front of you? Which we weren’t, by the way.”

Yeosang’s lips part, mouth opening and closing in protest despite no words escaping him.

“Nah, I’m just kidding,” you playfully pat his hand that he still has resting on top of the table. “If I ever make you uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to tell me. Boundaries are important, especially when they’re your own.”

“I will.” He smiles faintly.

“Same goes for if I start rambling too much, or if I’m being annoying, or if-“

“You’re not annoying.” The suddenness that Yeosang cuts you off with surprises you. “Why would you think you’re annoying?”

“I, uh-“

“Who told you that you’re annoying?” His brow furrows, clear confusion on his face. There’s something else there, you can see it shining behind his eyes, but you’re unsure of what it could be.

“Just a general comment,” you smile, somewhat tightly at him in response.

“Oh.” He seems to calm down, if only slightly. “Well, don’t think that you’re annoying. You’re not. I enjoy talking with you, and I enjoy listening to you speak.”

You blink in mild shock, a shy smile pulling at your lips as you avert your gaze.

“Thank you, Yeosang. That really means a lot to me.”

“Don’t be afraid to be yourself around me.” He swirls the content of his drink around slightly. “I quite like the real, unfiltered you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you cannot help the way your back straightens. However, before you can so much as thank him again, he’s clearing his throat.

“So,” he stares intently at the contents of his drink. “What’s your favourite colour?”

You think this is probably the most talkative you’ve ever witnessed Yeosang to be, and to say you’re caught off guard is an understatement. You both continue to ask each other questions, laughing and getting to know each other better as the time continues to pass around you.

Before you know it, another hour and a half has passed, and you notice that the sun is beginning to set in the distance. Though, that’s not the only thing you’ve started to notice.

For the past twenty minutes or so, you’ve spotted two girls sitting a little ways away from your own table. They constantly peer over towards you, whispering quite loudly to each other while staring between both you and Yeosang. 

You’re starting to get worried. The last thing you know he needs is word to get out that he’s been seen out with a girl. The setting could heavily imply a date, and that fact alone is enough to have you swallowing nervously. He doesn’t need a scandal, and you would hate for that to happen, especially since you consider all of Ateez to be your friends now.

“I’ll be right back.” Yeosang whispers lowly as he pushes his chair out from the table.

You find you can only nod in response, watching as he disappears down the hallway to your right for the moment.

Carefully, you observe the girls after pulling out your phone. Resting it on the table, you begin to put your laptop away, cleaning up your mess to appear as if you’re getting ready to leave. Every now and then, you glance to them, straining your ears to attempt to overhear their conversation.

“No, I’m positive that’s him.” The one says. “I saw this online forum post about how this place is common ground for a lot of idols, especially him.”

“It’s hard to tell since he’s wearing a hat, and not looking in our direction.” The other replies, not as lowly as the first girl who spoke. “Besides, why would he be out with someone like her?”

The first girl shrugs. “Maybe it was a dare, or a private contest.”

“He seems to be having a good time.” The second one bitterly mutters.

“He could be pretending.”

“He’s not that great of an actor.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Some fans they seem to be, considering how they seem to be acting right now. Still, their conversation worries you.

“We should follow them when they leave. It looks like she’s packing up, anyways.” The first one whispers again to her friend.

Your heart drops, and you find yourself grabbing your phone. You do your best to appear casual as you open your messages to send one to Yeosang privately.

You: Bad news. It looks like those two girls sitting behind us might have recognized you. They think we’re on a date, but they’re not 100% convinced you are who they think you are.

You just hope he sees your message before he comes back out.

A moment later, you see he’s replied.

Yeosang: We should leave then.

You:Great plan!!

You: Except that I overheard them saying they’re going to follow us to find out if you are who they think you are. You’re lucky you’re wearing that hat.

You: Wait, I have an idea.

You: Call me crazy, but I think we might be able to fool them into thinking that they’re wrong about who you really are.

Yeosang: What do you have in mind?

You: Keep your head down when you come back out, and then just follow my lead.

Yeosang: That sounds ominous.

You: I know. You’re going to have to trust me, though. Can you do that, Yeo?

It takes a moment for him to respond, and you cannot help the way your one finger taps at the side of your phone nervously as you wait.

Yeosang: I trust you.

You: Heads up: I’m about to get up close and personal with you real quick. I won’t purposely do anything to make you uncomfortable, I promise you that, but if we want to make this believable, we’re going to have to act like a couple.

Again, it takes a moment for him to respond, and you can feel your heart positively thundering inside of your chest. Anxiety floods your veins, and already you can feel your palms beginning to sweat. You just hope you look calmer than you feel.

Yeosang: I trust you.

You: Alright. Wait another minute and a half or so, and then come back out. Make sure all of your hair is tucked beneath your hat, too.

Placing your phone onto the top of the table, you’re quick to reach into your purse. Digging around beneath your wallet, you manage to pull out the case you’re looking for.

You place it onto the table, right next to your phone.

Turning to your opposite side, you rummage around in your tote bag. A small black box is pulled out, and you’re quick to open it. A small tube of lipstick falls into your open palm, and you toss the now empty container back into your tote.

Grabbing your phone, you make a show of using your reflection to apply the shade to your lips, making sure it’s evenly applied before you’re standing back to your feet. Then, you’re reaching over to grab your bags, slinging your purse over your one shoulder while you hold onto the tote in your hand. Once your other hand is free, you grab your phone and slide it into your back pocket before grabbing that case from on top of the table. 

Luckily, as you had been talking with Yeosang, he had already managed to finish his drink. He also took the liberty to return the empty glasses to the front, so all you have left is to give your final glass back to the worker behind the counter.

A few steps later, and you do just that, your tote hanging off of your arm lightly. You can just feel the gazes of those two girls following you the whole time, and just as you cross the small space of the boba shop, you see Yeosang appear from the back hallway. His head is angled downwards, pretending to look at something on his phone, and you notice how his hair is now completely tucked beneath that hat of his.

Purposefully, you make a show of skipping the rest of the way over to him eagerly.

“Kyungmin!” You giggle, pulling him closer to you by his wrist. A gentle kiss is placed onto the side of his exposed cheek, a red lipstick stain now painting his skin. “Let’s go get tteokbokki! I’m hungry!”

Quickly, you begin dragging him out of the shop, handing him both your tote bag to carry, and that small case held in your hands.

“Don’t forget to put your glasses back on. I know you hate them, but I think they make you look so handsome!” You purposely stand on his right side, blocking him as much as you can from the two girl’s view. Luckily, your height practically swamps him, his figure hidden quite easily behind your frame.

Yeosang is quiet, nodding faintly to your words as he walks beside you. He’s already tucked his phone into his pocket, opening up the case with your glasses inside seamlessly. He’s quick to slip them on as you step outside, wrapping your one arm around his shoulders as you walk down the deserted back alleys.

Unfortunately, you can practically hear the two girls scrambling after you once you get a certain distance down the street.

Subtly, you lean into Yeosang’s side.

“They’re still intent on following us.” You whisper lowly as you pick up your pace.

“What are we going to do?” There’s a slight panic to his voice that you notice almost immediately.

“Do you trust me?” Your eyes dart to another, more secluded alleyway you can see up ahead.

Yeosang swallows thickly before nodding his head.

In the blink of an eye, you’ve pulled him into that side alley. Your left hand rests beside his head, blocking his view from the entranceway, but also ensuring his face is covered should the two girls come rushing around the corner.

“We don’t have much time, but we have to make it convincing that we’ve just been making out.” You say, quite bluntly as you lean into him.

You swear Yeosang’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“We can’t slip up now, and the staging is important.” You bring your right hand up and lick your thumb, moving to smear some of your lipstick in the next second. “I’m really sorry it’s come to this, but I think it will work.”

Yeosang’s eyes briefly dart downward, and you assume he’s now staring at the stain of red on your thumb. He swallows thickly. “I trust you.”

Moving as precisely as you can, you begin to smear some of that red on your thumb on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m really sorry for doing this, I swear to you I’m not just making you do this for the adrenaline kick.” Your words are rushed, and you swallow the dryness in your throat. “Luckily with my height I can cover you, but you’re going to have to make it look like you’re grabbing onto me. Most people are startled and embarrassed if they catch a pretty heated pda session. I’m going to bet they won’t stick around to find out afterwards.”

He nods his understanding.

“I’m going to put my knee slightly between your legs, okay?” You keep your voice low.

“Okay.” Yeosang replies, somewhat breathlessly.

Any second now.

“Grab the back of my neck with your left hand, and angle your face towards mine. Put your right on the back of my waist. Slip it lower if you think it’ll be more believable.” You instruct, giving him an impromptu lesson on stage kissing and angles. You may not actually be pressed against him, but it most certainly will look like you are, and that’s the most important part.

Instantly, his hands are on you, and you feel him pull you closer. Whether it’s subconscious or not, you don’t know. All you do know is that his right hand rests just above the curve of your ass, and your breath hitches slightly from his touch.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your blood rushing through your veins as your anxiety continues to skyrocket. You just hope beyond everything that this works.

You hear the sound of feet hitting the pavement, and a sharp gasp followed by a loud exclamation of ‘oh my god!’.

Slowly, you turn your head to face the opening of the alleyway, seeing the two girls standing there. Red is clear on both of their faces as they splutter in their spots, shifting their gazes everywhere around the alleyway but at you.

Your eyes narrow, irritation shining on your features as you glare at the two girls for ‘interrupting’ you.

“What?” Your voice is nothing short of sharp as you finally speak.

The two girls remain silent, attempting to stutter out an answer.

“Do you mind? I haven’t seen him in two months, and I’d really love to spend some time with my boyfriend.” You snap, a prominent frown on your features.

“We’re so sorry!” The one girl immediately bows to you, quite clumsily. “We just thought-“

“What? You thought what?” You cut her off, shifting slightly so your head is turned more towards her while your body still covers the majority of Yeosang’s.

You can feel his grip tighten over you, but you choose to ignore it for now.

“We thought he was Kang Yeosang from Ateez.” The other girl replies, somewhat ashamedly.

“And that gives you the right to stalk us?” Your gaze narrows once more. You scoff. “Why would Kang Yeosang from Ateez be out at this time of day? Here, of all places? He’s probably at a schedule or something. He is an idol, after all.”

That’s when you realize: these girls don’t recognize you. For that, you’re grateful.

They remain quiet.

“You hear that, babe?” You purposely turn back to Yeosang. “These girls think you look like an idol! I told you you were handsome! I don’t want to hear another doubt about yourself come out of your mouth again.”

The way you’re leaning into him makes it look like you’ve placed another kiss onto his cheek. Yet, only you and he know that your lips never grace his skin.

“We’re sorry for interrupting.” The first girl bows clumsily to you again, shoving her friend back the way they came.

“I told you it wasn’t Yeosang!” You can hear the one friend harshly whisper to the other.

“You were right.” You hear the other sigh. “Besides, he wouldn’t be caught dead with an ugly bitch like that, anyways.”

The moment you hear their voices fade away into the distance, their footsteps no longer resounding against the pavement, you’re breathing a sigh of relief. A light smile paints your features as you turn back to face Yeosang, immediately moving to step away from him.

Only, the feeling of his hands tightening around you has you clearing your throat, seemingly snapping him out of whatever daze he seems to be in.

“You can let go now.” You mumble lowly.

“Oh.” Immediately, his hands retract, as if burned. “Right. Sorry.”

You notice Yeosang shifting slightly back and forth on his feet, a frown soon marring his brow as he looks down at the ground.

“Thanks for trusting me,” you smile at him, rummaging around in your purse for that pack of tissues he gave you that one day at rehearsal. “I’m so sorry for invading your space like that and subjecting you to be my fake boyfriend just now. I swear to you I wasn’t just doing that to cop a feel, or say you’re my boyfriend, or anything weird or creepy like that.”

“It’s alright.” He smiles assuringly at you. “I didn’t mind at all.”

Heat immediately rises to your cheeks from his words, handing him a few tissues so he can wipe the lipstick from his face.

“I’m just glad it worked.” You breathe a low sigh of relief.

“Me too.” He smiles, rubbing at his cheek with a tissue.

Still, he swears that he can feel the tips of his fingers tingling from where they had just been pressed against your skin. His heart absolutely pounds in his chest, and he can’t seem to erase the feeling of your body barely pressed against his. Really, he wouldn’t have minded if you actually touched him, but then again, he thinks he probably wouldn’t be able to stand right now if that had been the case.

“So,” your voice catches his attention, a light smile painting your face as you adjust the strap of your purse over your shoulder, “You hungry?”

#cultofdionysusnet #yandere yeosang #yeosang scenarios #yandere ateez #ateez scenario #kpop scenario #yandere kpop #kpop au #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #chubby reader

[averagewriter-inthedark]

It’s A Long Way To The Top 🎸 | Pete Maverick Mitchell / Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic) Hondo (platonic)

Content warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter, light suggestive content, mentions of past drug use. | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 13.5k

Social Media matching HC

Premise: The Dagger Squad didn’t know much about their former instructor turned friend, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. Only Rooster had insight on all there was when it came to the famous pilot, and his love life certainly fell into that. When the squad shows up unannounced to Maverick’s San Diego home for his birthday weekend, they are greeted with the shock of the lifetime when it’s revealed Maverick’s lady once ruled the radio of the decade they were born in. And what better way for them to properly meet one of the greatest rockstars to ever exist than by attending the bands reunion concert that night.

Note: So TC was born in 1962 and that what it also says for Maverick (although with his rank I doubt it lines up but Imma just go with it), so for this imagine you were born in 1964 and were the front woman of a famous 80s rock band who Mav meets after the events of Top Gun. I love rock music and have been listening to it nonstop the past week and this inspired me. At first I was gonna do this with Rooster or Phoenix with a modern day rockstar, but then I thought Mav was better suited for what I had planned.

Also in my research I found that the Staples Center (which is going to mentioned a lot) opened in 1999 and is now called Crypto.com Arena, but for this just imagine it opened in the 80s and is still called the Staples Center. Personally I will always refer to it as that even though it got a new name. Last thing, my favorite band is AC/DC and i use two of their songs as ‘your’ songs verbally said. The album/era names are ones I thought of off the bat, and feel free to imagine your friends as your bandmates, I just gave them names to make it easier when writing. And the photo on the collage is to show the outfit reference—I don’t write with any indication of race/ethnicity/etc unless it’s for an OC. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

————————————

“Are you guys sure about not warning Rooster we’re coming?” Bob voiced from the passenger side of Nat’s car. In the backseat were Mickey and Payback while Hondo drove the car behind them containing Hangman and Coyote.

“Bradshaw will spoil the surprise,” Fanboy reminds him, “And the whole point of this is to surprise Mav. We haven’t seen him in months and this is the first time we’re all together again.”

“I know,” Bob sighs, leaning back into his seat before glancing at Nat, “How did you even get his address, Nat?”

She doesn’t stray her eyes from the road as she responds, “I may have convinced Admiral Simpson to give it to me, saying we all wanted to send Mav a birthday gift but didn’t have his permanent residence. I know he’s often in the Mojave desert during his vacation, but Cyclone gave me his San Diego home address.”

“Hondo didn’t even have Mav’s address?” Mickey says more to himself, surprised the man did not. He was Mav’s closest friend and had been with him since the Darkstar project.

“Hondo only had his Mojave camp—which isn’t really an address when you think about it. It’s quite literally on an old airstrip that’s not even used by the Navy anymore,” Nat tells him, “Mav lived there during their assignment so it makes sense why he only had that one.”

“So what I’m hearing is you deceived Admiral Simpson so we can show up on Mav’s doorstep like ‘surprise! We’re here!’ And Cyclone just gave it to you with no questions asked?” Payback raises a brow, catching her eyes in the rear view mirror.

“Not entirely,” she defends, “I mean we are sending him a birthday gift…..it’s just we are the birthday gift.” At the laughs from the men Nat rolls her eyes, “Y’all are in this too, so I don’t know why you’re laughing. We’re almost there. GPS says ten minutes.”

The Pacific Ocean was to their right, the sun high in the sky as the time reached one o’clock. They noticed as they traveled down the road that the houses were becoming more distant and eye-catching. “Damn,” Fanboy whistled under his breath at one point.

When they got to the turn to enter the neighborhood, they were greeted with a closed gate and security. Nat mentally cursed, not anticipating Mav lived in a gated community.

Now the jig was up and they were gonna have to call Rooster.

While Nat spoke with one of the security guards Bob was already dialing Bradley, who answered with a confused, “Hey, Bob. What’s up?”

“Rooster, hey, I’m sorry to bother you but the squad and I were planning to surprise Maverick for his birthday tonight and well….we’re kinda at the entrance to his neighborhood. We didn’t think it would be gated and needed confirmation from the resident to get in.”

“Ah damn,” Bradley said with a laugh and Bob could hear him fiddling with his keys. “I wish y’all would’ve told me, but then again I know I probably would’ve ruined it.” It was the truth, Rooster could not keep a secret if his life depended on it. Last year he unintentionally spoiled Nat’s surprise party when she got promoted. Soon it became a running joke amongst the group. “Just hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

“Wait, are you at Mav’s house?” All eyes in the car turned to Bob, the WSO catching the sound of Rooster’s Bronco starting up.

“Yeah, I’m on the list and can get y’all in. Hang on, imma tell him I’m running out to get beers.” There was a pause on the receiver before a car door shuts and Rooster says, “I’ll be there in two minutes.” Bob stayed on the line before hanging up when they caught sight of the bright blue vehicle approaching from the other side of the gate. Rooster pulled off to the side, exited the car and approached the security hut where another officer met him in the middle. The team watched as they exchanged words before the guard Nat spoke with was called over.

When he returned seconds later he said, “we’re gonna open the gate and if you could please pull off to where my buddy directs you and step out. We have to check the cars.”

“Sure thing,” Nat says with a wave as he goes to relay the same to Hondo. Passing the gate, she parks the car where the guard instructs and all four step out from the vehicle. Hondo pulls up seconds later with Hangman and Coyote coming over to stand with the group as Rooster approaches.

“Well this sure is some special treatment,” Hangman jokes when an officer comes up with a metal detector to begin scanning the squad while the two search their cars. He notices one of the officers writing down the car information, including the license plate number. “Never seen this before when I’ve been to a gated neighborhood.”

“It’s just precaution since it’s your first time” Rooster says, dabbing up the guys when they are finished being scanned. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“It’s good to see you too, Bradshaw,” Nat gives him a hug and appears apologetic. “Sorry we didn’t let you know in advance.”

“Ah it’s all good. Like I told Bob I probably would’ve ruined it.” They all laugh, some muttering sounds of agreement. It was all in good heart though, Bradley wasn’t offended. He was just happy to see his friends again and celebrate Mav’s 60th with them.

The only thing….they were in for their own surprise when they got to the house.

“Does the governor of California live here or something?” Javy jokes, but judging by the way Rooster reacts he’s certain there is some truth to it.

“All clear!” The main guard shouts, nodding to Rooster. “Y’all are free to go, just make sure to call in if you leave the area and return later on.”

“Will do,” Rooster salutes, shaking his hand afterwards. “Thanks again, Frank.” Telling his friends to follow behind him, they all got into their respective vehicles and headed down the road leading to the neighborhood.

“Sheeeesh,” Mickey says in awe at some of the houses they passed. They looked to be a million bucks. Literally. They were distanced quite a bit like something you see in Calabasas and had long entrances. “Mav should be on MTV’s cribs. How the hell does a naval Captain get something like this?”

“Probably by saving for that perfect retirement home,” Nat comments, eyes lingering on one house that caught her eyes.

“Nah,” Payback shakes his head, “I’ve seen Admirals with places not even to this extent. No offense to Mav, but I don’t see how an O-6 could afford a place like this.” About a minute passed before they were turning into a long driveway, all four jaws dropping at the sight of the home.

Yeah they needed to know Pete’s secret.

It was a gorgeous two-story mediterranean style home with an iron gate surrounding the perimeter. The exterior was beautiful, with flowers and various plants on the grounds. A front enclosed patio was the first thing they could see connecting to a foyer where the front door was located. Only one word could describe the home: marvelous.

The driveway was crescent shaped and could fit at least four cars with a side entrance leading to the garage. Rooster pulled up to the furthest spot allowing Nat and Hondo to pull up behind him. “Holy shit,” Fanboy says in awe, hopping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

Shutting his own door, Hangman whistles, “If this is what retirement looks like, I can’t wait.”

“C’mon,” Rooster chuckles, nodding his head to the entrance. “Mav’s in the garage working on his bike.” The squad all rushes to get the gifts, beer, and food they had brought for the pilot, following behind Rooster while trying to not make it look like they were gawking at the home. They hadn’t even seen the inside yet but could already tell it was going to be as incredible as the outside.

Putting a finger to his lips, the group remains quiet at Rooster’s command as they ease their way into the garage. It was very similar to the one at his camp hangar in the desert. Pictures hung on a wall with several plaques. Motorcycles lined up and sitting in the corner was a gorgeous 1966 Dodge Charger. Coyote had to put a hand to his mouth to keep from making a sound when he saw it.

“That you, Bradley?” Mav said with his back to the group, unaware his practically surrogate son was not alone. He was dressed in a greased up white tee with some old light washed jeans and boots. Playing on the radio was the 80s on 8 channel from SiriusXM.

“Yeah it’s me,” Rooster places a case of beers the squad brought on the counter near the fridge. “I brought some strays too while I was at it.”

“Strays? What—?” Mav laughs, moving to turn around which resulted in his mouth dropping and wrench clinking to the floor.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted, grinning widely at their former instructor who was completely speechless. “Happy Birthday, Mav!”

“Wha-oh my gosh!” The pilot's feet moved before he could stop them, embracing Phoenix first since she was closest before doing the same to the others. As he pulls away from Hondo, patting his back Mav goes, “What’re you doing here?”

“Surprising you for your birthday, old man,” Hangman lightly punches his shoulder. “You’re turning the big six-zero, there was no way we were missing it.”

“Aww thanks guys,” the man blushes, grinning when they bombard him with gifts. “It’s so good to see you all—I-I wish I would’ve known you were coming.”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, Cap,” Fanboy points to him with a knowing look.

“True,” Mav laughs, directing the crew to put the bags and all on the counter in the garage where the sink was located. “Thank you all so much, you really didn’t have to do all this.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen ya, Mav,” Phoenix tells him, accepting the beer Rooster offers her that was already in the fridge. He passes them out to the crew, except Bob and Mav who kindly decline. Phoenix waves a hand, “Quite the place you got. Rooster had to come save us at the gate.”

Mav raises a brow at Rooster, “You didn’t know about this?”

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “I’m sure you can guess why.” It takes Mav a moment, but then he chuckles, thinking back to the many times Bradley did ruin a surprise. Nat’s promotion party, Hondo’s birthday dinner, and the tickets the group got Mickey to attend SDCC’s Star Wars reunion panel.

“We hope we didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Bob says. “Dropping in unannounced. We weren’t sure if you had anything planned this weekend, but we all took a few days off—got rooms in TLF back at Fightertown, so we would love to take you out for dinner or something this weekend.”

Mav glances at Rooster, who gives a knowing look to the pilot while sipping his beer. The two share a silent exchange of words before he scratches the back of his neck….a few catch the reflective metal of a gold on his left ring finger. Phoenix and Bob’s eyes widen, looking around to see if anyone else spotted what they did.

“Um, well we did have plans tonight—but I can make a call and figure something out. Tomorrow for sure I’m free all day so whatever you guys want to do I’m game.”

“What kind of plans?” Coyote asks before Payback and Hondo nudges him for being nosy. “Owwww.”

Hesitant to reply, Mav gives Rooster another look before nodding his head to the door, “why don’t you guys come inside. Make yourself comfortable while I make a quick call.”

“Are you not going to—,” Mav is quick to cut Bradley off with a wink. Confused, the entire squad look at each other with the same expression before following behind Mav while Rooster is the last to enter and shut the garage door.

Pete doesn’t have to turn around to know they were all gawking at the interior of the home. The first rooms closest to the garage were the laundry room, open kitchen and dining room. Sounds of approaching steps alerted the group and several audibly reacted to the adult Dalmatian, white husky, and golden retriever puppy racing after them.

“Oh my gosh,” Javy kneeled down to pet the Goldie pawing at his legs. “Your dogs are adorable.” The husky was licking at Jake’s face while Phoenix and Bob were occupied with the Dalmatian before each dog inspected each of the guests. “What are their names?”

“That’s Ice,” he pointed to the husky first then the Dalmatian, “Bella.” Lastly he pointed at the puppy, who was kissing up on Mickey, “and Goose.” They spend a good three minutes right there in the kitchen allowing the dogs to receive attention from the squad before Mav directs them to the living room.

And that’s when they pass the cabinet.

A cabinet that was just one of many.

“Uh, Mav,” Payback stops, causing those behind him to do the same, gaze locked on the floor to ceiling glass cabinet—if you could call it that, it was more like a shrine.

Dedicated to one of the world's most renowned rock bands.

“Yeah?” Mav already knew what they were looking at. And that was only scratching the surface compared to the others in the house.

“Say, uh—,” Payback tilts his head, pointing to the cabinet, “Are you like, obsessed with ‘Y/n & the Romantics’,” several eyes trailed along the various shelves lined with actual Grammy awards for ‘Best Rock Performance by a Duo/Group’, ‘Best Rock Album’, ‘Best Rock Song’, ‘Record of the Year,’ & ‘Album of the Year,’ going back as 1980 to 2021 as the most recent. Other awards included almost a dozen in MTV Moonmen, Billboard Music Awards, American Music Awards, and an Oscar for ‘Best Original Song’. Framed photographs of the band hung on the walls and perched on the shelves. Some included them with famed music legends like Cher, Prince, Micheal Jackson, Cyndi Lauper, Lionel Richie, Def Leppard, and Duran Duran….those of which the squad could make out the signature on the photograph itself. An eye catcher was the USA for Africa signed photograph of every artist, including the Romantics, featured in Michael Jackson’s “We Are The World.”

One shelf pretty much was reserved for all the times they were the musical guests on SNL. Four times to be exact. Another shelf, that had their eyes boggling, was dedicated to their 1999 Super Bowl Halftime performance with a football signed by the band and head coaches of the teams that played that year.

Fanboy nearly shit his pants when he saw the guitars mounted on the wall. Not only were they signed by absolute icons, including Elvis fucking Preseley, but one of which was the iconic checkered neon pink Fender Stratocaster frontwoman Y/n L/n played in the 80s.

Y/n L/n. Dubbed the ‘daughter of Rock ‘n’ Roll’ with a voice that had people say she was what an angel would sound like if they rebelled from God to become a rockstar. Together with some of her best friends from high school, formed the group ‘Y/n & the Romantics,’ signing with a small label in Atlanta, Georgia in 1978 at aged 14 after being discovered on the corner of a street playing covers of Elvis, The Beatles, and Billie Holiday. What had the producer write up a contract right there was when he heard Y/n’s rendition of ‘Crybaby,’ by Janis Joplin. It was as though Janis had been reincarnated. Her voice was unlike anything he’d ever heard.

They released their first single on New Year’s Day of 1979. That first single that had RCA Records knocking on their door and shot them into becoming one of the best selling rock bands of all time. When MTV launched on August 1, 1981, their music video for their Grammy Award winning single was the third to be played after ‘Video Killed The Radio Star,’ by the Buggles, and ‘You Better Run’ by Pat Benatar. Y/n & the Romantics became teen sensations, dominating the 1980s and 90s before going on hiatus in the early 2000s. Y/n was not only known for her recognizable, unique voice but also her split dye hair, leather outfits, stage presence, and signature pink guitar she named, ‘Dirty Shirley.’

And it was in Maverick’s house.

“Holy shit,” Phoenix breathed out, patting Payback to look to the left. That’s when he noticed the wedding picture hung on the wall not too far from where they were standing. The bride, kissing Maverick in the photo, was the same woman holding a Grammy with her bandmates.

Eyes bulging out, Payback whistled and asked what they were all thinking, “Or…. you got something to tell us?”

August 15, 1989. Los Angeles, California. Club Electic Idol

“Tell me, Pete—or do you prefer Maverick?” The blue light shining above her in the bar had the glitter on her face reflect. She was dazzling. Unlike any woman he’d ever met. And Pete met a lot in his career, though they never captivated him like she was now. He wanted to dance with her forever

Arms around his neck, their bodies pressed together as they swayed to the beat of ‘When Doves Cry,’ by Prince. The leather adorning her body was smooth against his fingertips. Completely ignorant of the flashing of cameras from the side and envious gazes of both men and women around them. Never did the pilot think when he, Ice, and Slider agreed on coming to that bar after the concert that he would end up with the frontwoman in his arms. They were just looking for a place to grab a quick drink, maybe dance with a girl or two, and chill before heading back to their hotel.

Guess Y/n & the Romantics were looking to do the same. Fate seemed to bring them together.

“Either is fine, sweetheart.” She smirked at the nickname, finding it amusing. God, even her smirk was sexy. Everything about her was.

“You do that little show of yours each time you see a pretty lady? Or am I just special?”

Damn she caught him.

Truth be told it scared the shit out of him to even think about doing it. Had it not been for the light buzz from drinking a couple beers and encouragement from Ice saying, “You’re the only bloke in this bar who could probably get her into bed if you tried, Mitchell. I saw her eyeing you when you went to pick a song on the jukebox.”

At first he refused. It was Y/n fucking L/n of all people. And there were plenty of people, men and women, who were taking a shot at swooning the rockstar. Left and right they were offering her drinks and asking her to dance. Mav would only go up to her if Ice and Slider sang with him. There was no way in hell he would embarrass just himself. Especially if it didn’t turn out the way he wanted.

The fact it actually did work had the pilot thank his guardian angel, who no doubt had to have been Goose.

“I’ve only done it a few times. The first crashed and burned. Second time actually got me a date,” his lips curled up, “Now I’m hoping the third time’s a charm.”

“I see,” she hummed, never taking her eyes off him. The silence that indicated she was deep in thought. “What are you hoping to get out of it?”

“Honestly, maybe a kiss when the night comes to an end if you’d allow me the honor. But if not I would want you to never forget me. Just like I won’t ever forget you.”

“After a performance like that, Lieutenant, I’ll remember you till the end of time. And about that kiss….” She brings her mouth closer to his, but still enough distance to keep them apart. Pete felt his heart skip at the proximity, the perfume she wore filling his nostrils. “Keep impressing me and it just might come true.”

Present Day

“Wait-wait-wait,” Phoenix laughed with the guys as Maverick finished telling the story of when he went with Slider and Iceman to see Y/n & the Romantics perform at the Staples center in 1989. They were all seated in the living room—which had more framed photos of not just Y/n and her band but also of her and Maverick over the years and Rooster as a child.

Jake took photos of that on his phone to hold for blackmail. Now it made sense why Rooster was always singing their songs on the piano when they would go out.

After giving a quick tour of the first floor of the home, they all settled in the living room with his dogs as Mav sent a text to his lady to call him after soundcheck. Beers were brought out and some snacks, the crew still processing the news as they took it all in. Eventually after a quick explanation, Pete answered the many questions they had, including just how the hell he managed to pull one of the greatest rockstars to ever exist.

Whose band literally had a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and were being inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame in just a few months.

“So from what I’m gathering,” Nat points to her forehead, as though she were deep in thought, “If my brain is right on track here….you were, to put it lightly…a groupie?”

“Now hold on—.” Mav tried to say but was cut off by the obnoxious laughter that was Javy, Mickey, and Jake while Bob and Hondo just shook their heads, although they were grinning wide at the insinuation. Rooster was smirking like, ‘told you so.’ Mav sighed, but he was smiling as the laughter died down. “I was not a groupie. Okay—yeah I had the hope I would meet her after the show, but I didn’t go out of my way to make that happen. They just happened to come to the same bar that night—I swear!”

“That literally sounds like what a groupie is, Mav,” Hondo pats his back. “You just got lucky it went in your favor.”

Blushing, Mav coughed lightly as he laughed with the group before adding, “I’d like to point out that nothing … you know, happened, alright? We simply had some drinks, danced…I may have tried serenading her with my rendition of ‘You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,’” the laughter got louder, making his blush deepen, “and then we exchanged addresses to send each other letters—because that’s what you did back in the day or call on the landline. It was history from there.”

“Don’t forget, Mav,” Rooster points at him. “You guys made out and then you exchanged addresses before leaving.” Mav has to cover his face to hide his blush when the group hollar and cheer.

“So how long y’all been together?” Rueben asks, finishing off his beer.

“Since 1990. But we didn’t get married until 2002 after the band went on hiatus.”

“How come?” Phoenix tilted her head curiously.

Though Phoenix and most of the guys were not die hard fans of Y/n & the Romantics, they were familiar with their music of course. As one of the most influential rock bands of all time everyone had heard of them in some way, shape, or form. Their parents often played their records, or they’d hear them on the radio and in movies. The squad were all born in the 1980s & early 90s so by the time they got into their teenage years the band had already stopped releasing music. It wasn’t until late 2020 they announced a reunion with the release of their latest album and were currently on tour across North America. During the hiatus however, Y/n still wrote songs for other artists and even released a few solo records. Some of the Grammy’s in the case belonged to only her and not just with the band.

Personal lives of the band members were not something they knew too well. The only people in the group who had knowledge of some details were Mickey, who was a big fan growing up, and Hondo. Bob was also a fan, having played the drums as a teenager and cited them to be a big influence. On google information showed that the group consisted of Y/n, the lead vocalist who also played guitar, Maya the bass player, Evan the lead guitarist, Danny the drummer, and Ronnie on keys. All of them provided backup vocals on tracks.

Maya and Evan ended up falling in love, confirming long time rumors they were together in 1987 and had three kids over the course of the 90s. Danny married a famous actress in 2000 with whom he had a son. Lastly Ronnie was once married to the lead singer of another rock group before divorcing and finding love with a movie producer from when she landed a role in a tv drama, the two adopted a son and daughter in the early 2000s.

Y/n’s information did actually include the fact she and Maverick met in 1989 when they played at the Staples center, that he was a Captain in the Navy being the only man to shoot down five enemy planes in the last 40 years, and were together for over a decade before finally getting married. They did not have kids and the text read how they liked to keep their personal lives private.

Rooster of course knew everything. The first time he met Y/n was in 1991 when he was 7 years old and looked at her like a second mother growing up. She taught him piano and guitar, let him attend shows when the group were on tour in Virginia, and was always a phone call away even after he and Maverick were at odds. Since she didn’t have kids, Bradley was the closest to what it was like having a son. There was no way she was going to let them drift apart after vowing to Carole she would take care of him. They spoke almost weekly with Rooster updating Y/n on his career and asking when she was getting the band back together, knowing she missed going on the road and performing.

“Soon,” she would tell him with a laugh, “I’m working on some songs in the meantime. We all agreed once the kids are older that we’ll come back.” That was in 2012. Now it was 2022 and finally Y/n & the Romantics were on stage performing for a sold out crowd full of people from all ages. They were all in their late 50s but still knew how to rock n’ roll like the good ole days. Y/n never lost her stage presence, the audience thrived on it. Over the years she took care of her voice so she would sound exactly like she did in the 80s. It was her staple after all.

Answering Nat’s question, Mav gave a light shrug, “It just sorta happened that way honestly. We were happy with how things were—marriage was not for us until then. I should say legally married actually, because here in California the relationship was viewed as common law marriage since we had been together for so many years,” Mav explained before taking a sip of water, “Around the time they disbanded the others had young or were starting to have children so they decided to take a break until the kids were grown up.”

“I think that was the first time I saw my mother cry,” Bob chuckled, fixing his glasses as all eyes turned to him. “My mom was—is a huge fan. Anytime we went on road trips she’d play one of their albums. I think she even saw them live when she was in college—said it was one of the best nights of her life. She had a crush on Danny if I’m not mistaken.” Mav smiles, not surprised it was Danny. In the 80s the man was quite the heartthrob.

“How come you never told us?” Mickey cut in. It was a question all were curious to know. Hondo knew Mav was married, but not to whom. He and Penny had history and were friendly at the Hard Deck so they assumed they were together or possibly going to. Finding out he’s been in a long time relationship with Y/n L/n was the shock of their life.

“We like our privacy. It’s why we waited to get married also, because of how big they were in the 80s and 90s. I got followed by paparazzi in the beginning—which was causing problems with my job. We actually pretended to break up in the late 90s to get them off my back,” Mav shrugs again, “I also don’t like the idea of bragging that my wife is Y/n L/n. I love and respect her so much. Yeah I was a fan of her music, but what made me fall in love with her was getting to know her for who she was. Not Y/n the rockstar, but Y/n the girl who replays her favorite songs if someone talks during it. Who can quote every single line from ‘Dirty Dancing’. Who will scold me for leaving seven half filled water bottles on my nightstand.” Laughs rang out at that. “We personally enjoy letting people discover it on their own, rather than telling them upfront.”

“I still can’t wrap it around my head,” Jake waves a hand to emphasize his point. “That you pulled pretty much the woman all our dads, maybe even moms, had a crush on. Your game is on another level. Like please tell me your secrets, pops.” Phoenix playfully slaps Hangman on the shoulder.

Before he could answer the pilot, Maverick’s phone rings causing him to jolt from the couch. “Give me a moment guys,” excusing himself he goes around the corner into the hallway before answering, “Hey, honey.”

“Hey, is everything good? Your message sounded urgent.”

Mav heard sounds in the background, possibly the crew setting up the stage for the night’s show. “Everything is great….uhh-say is tonight’s show sold out?”

“Yessss,” he could hear the confusion laced in her tone. “At least that was what I was told by Hank. Why? Did Bradley want to bring a friend? I’m sure I can get a pass.” Mav let out a sigh, scratching his chin.

“If it’s too much to ask then don’t worry about it, I know you gotta get back to soundcheck and have a few hours until the concert starts. But my former students from a few years ago surprised me today to celebrate my birthday. They’re here at the house—Bradley didn’t even know they were coming, honey.”

Y/n laughed, “I wouldn’t have bet money on him to know,” they laughed together, Y/n following with, “But that’s so sweet of them! I know how much you’ve missed them since you retired last year. How long are they in town?”

“Just for the weekend. They all got rooms on base and were hoping to take me out either tonight or possibly tomorrow. I told them I had plans tonight….”

“But you didn’t tell them what plans, huh?” Mav could picture the smirk on her face. “Do they know?”

“About us? I just finished telling them why I never mentioned anything. They seem to understand and were apologetic for dropping in unannounced. But…..I have not told them that the last stop in your tour is tonight at the Staples Center and Bradley and I were going to be leaving in a few hours.”

“Who all is it?”

“My buddy Hondo from when I did the Darkstar project—I think I’ve told you about him, the two foxtrot teams I did the uranium mission with and two of my reserves. So seven total.”

“I see,” Y/n humed, finding her husband’s situation amusing. He let out a groan, apologizing but she just laughed and said, “Well since it is your birthday and I’ve been wanting to meet your little dagger ducklings forever now,” he smiled at the nickname Y/n had given the pilots. They really were his ducklings. “Let me talk with Hank and the venue manager. Show doesn’t start till seven so there’s plenty of time. Just hang tight and I’ll call you back, okay? I know you're probably losing your mind because you don’t want to miss tonight’s show knowing it’s the last of the tour, but you also want to spend time with them while they're in town. Imma make sure you get both, pretty boy…..and maybe a little something more when the night comes to a close.”

Fuck that got Mav blushing, knowing exactly what she was implying. “Y/n…”

“Love you, Pete. Wait for my call.” Telling her the same, Mav hangs up the phone and reenters the living room. Rooster immediately meets his eye, lifting a thumbs up to which Mav returns with a gesture to signify he was working on it. For the next thirty minutes the squad makes small talk until his phone rings again. “Hey.”

“Would it be okay if you put me on speaker?”

A smile forms on his lips, “Sure thing,” he looks at the group to catch their attention, “Someone wants to say hi,” they all, minus Rooster who’s smirking, watch with confused expressions as Mav hits the speaker button and places the phone on the table. “What have you got for us, honey?” The second the pet name leaves his lips, Mav sees Fanboy drop his now empty cup of water, Phoenix slap a hand over her mouth, Javy pushing Jake and vice versa muttering ‘holy shit.’ Everyone else pretty much does something similar when Y/n’s voice echoes through the receiver, “Hello hello, aviators.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yo this ain’t happening right now.”

“Guys, guys, shut up—holy shit.”

Y/n laughed at the reactions. “It’s so nice to finally—even if it’s over the phone at the moment—meet you guys! Pete talks about you all everyday.”

“I-I wish we could say the same about you, ma’am,” Payback nervously laughs. “We didn’t even know the man was hitched until an hour ago. Also we apologize for the fanboying-fangirling, it’s an honor to speak to such a legend. You’re an icon.”

“Oh you’re too kind,” she awes, “thank you so much. I hope you guys can forgive him for not saying anything—he meant well.”

“We understand,” Phoenix says on their behalf. “We’d also like to say sorry for showing up to your house uninvited—your home is beautiful by the way. We-we just wanted to surprise Captain Mitchell since it’s been so long since we were all together and he’s done so much for us.”

“I think that’s so amazing you guys did that! I wish I could’ve been home to greet you guys and see the look on his face. Did he cry by any chance?”

“Honey please…” Mav pleaded, causing everyone to laugh.

“I’m sorry, babe. Anyways, Pete tells me you guys are in town for the weekend and well……tonight the Romantics and I are playing our last show in L.A at seven. Bradley and Pete were set to leave San Diego around four to make it on time and if y’all are up for the short drive…..I have seven passes reserved with your names on them.”

The reaction of the dagger squad could only be described with a singular word: chaos.

First it was more of denial, but then they saw Maverick and Rooster’s face and realized Y/n was in fact serious. She was inviting them to her concert. The final show in her band’s reunion tour. The soon to be Rock n Roll Hall of Famers.

Yeah, they about lost their minds.

“I gotta call my mom—she’s gonna flip!”

“How the hell am I supposed to continue living life after this?”

“This is your birthday Mav!” Phoenix pointed at him while Bob had his hands in his face, expression unreadable. “You’re not supposed to be giving us anything, it's the other way around!”

“Nat, I would love nothing more than to spend my birthday with you guys at the concert tonight.” That just about made her tear up.

“Yo so this is legit?” Coyote held up a hand, trying to calm his excitement. “We’re actually going?”

“Hell yeah!” Jake said, Rooster and Payback agreeing with a high-five. “What the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.”

“Y/n, thank you so much,” Hondo said on their behalf. “I’m sorry if you can’t hear over these clowns in the background, but I’ll speak for everyone when I say that we are so grateful for you to invite us to experience your show together and celebrate Mav’s birthday. I don’t think we’ll stop thanking you so be warned.”

After a few more minutes of mainly the squad bombarding the rockstar with words of gratitude and thanks, Y/n informs Pete of where to go when they get to the venue and she’ll meet them backstage to give them the passes. When they say their goodbyes and hang up, Coyote goes, “Okay so I don’t know about y’all…but I cannot walk into a rock concert dressed like this,” he gestures to his gray Navy t-shirt and torn jeans, “How much time we got, Cap?” The question has Pete check his watch.

“If we wanna get there before the doors open, I’d say we should leave in about two hours. It’s gonna take at least two hours to get to L.A, and we gotta consider traffic.” Mav thinks for a moment before saying, “I may have something that can help. Follow me.”

In one of the many closets used as a storage place, Pete removed a box from the self and opened it to reveal a bunch of vintage t-shirts of Y/n & the Romantics.

“Oh my gosh this is so cool,” Fanboy awed. Some of the shirts were literally from the 80s and 90s but looked to be in new condition, meaning they must have been extras Y/n kept for safekeeping. Nowadays it was hard for someone to get their hands on anything with the classic logo of Y/n & the Romantics unless it was from Etsy or a private seller. Stores like Hot Topic, Spencers, and those dedicated to the 80s or retro-like were the only places to buy the new style of merchandise. But these in the box, they were classic.

“Look through and see if you can find anything. There’s several sizes and styles—most of these were from their ‘Heartbreaker’ era but you may find some from ‘Love is the Eighth Deadly Sin,’ or ‘Rock ‘n’ Rolling to Heaven.’ We have some leather jackets I’d be happy to lend you guys—and Nat, Y/n wanted me to tell you that you’re more than welcome to borrow anything you’d like.” Her eyes go wide.

“Oh I couldn’t possibly—.”

Rooster claps his hands excitedly, cutting Nat off much to her annoyance, “Time to turn you guys into rockstars. Fuck yeah! This is gonna be the best night ever!”

So that’s how the famed naval aviators ended up in their vehicles on a two hour journey to Los Angeles. It was far from what they expected when they set out to surprise Pete Mitchell, but in Maverick fashion things take a different turn when one least expects it. The couple’s dog sitter was called to tend to their animals since it was likely they would not be coming home till the next day. Just after 3:30pm the squad, now dressed like they were straight from the 80s by cutting holes in their jeans and wearing leather jackets and chains Maverick provided, gathered in the cars and hit the road. Maverick and Rooster ended up driving, with Hondo, Coyote, Hangman and Payback in Mav’s SUV and Fanboy, Bob, and Phoenix with Rooster in the Bronco.

Upon instance from Y/n after chatting briefly with her on the phone to make sure it was okay, Nat relented on wearing the red leather Prada two piece set the rockstar wore at the 1994 MTV video awards. It fit like a glove on the pilot, jaw dropping when she looked at herself in the mirror, “Damn.” While in the car she applied some black eye pencil and smudged it out to give her that 80s grunge appearance, to which she made Fanboy and Bob do the same, “Bradshaw, I expect you to rock this too.” At a red light he applied it like a pro, like he’d done it many times before not even needing to fix it.

The entire way both vehicles played Y/n & the Romantics decades worth of music. It surprised a lot of the crew when they recognized some songs from movies and tv shows they had no idea were by them. “This was in Stranger Things!” Coyote shouted over the sound, head banging his head along to the beat. Another song had Bob go, “Wasn’t this in the Guardians of The Galaxy?”

By the time they got to L.A the city life was at its prime. Traffic was insane as usual but thankfully they made it to the Staples Center just before six o’clock. The sign outside the venue glowed bright with ‘Y/n & The Romantics—Rockin’ Down Memory Lane Reunion Tour. TONIGHT ONLY—SOLD OUT.’ Pete pulled in front of Rooster to speak to the guard when they got to the back gate. After speaking through a radio for confirmation they allowed the two cars to enter and directed them on where to go.

When they get in the building it’s buzzing all around them. Crew members of both the band and the venue run past and speak into radios. They could barely make out the words combined with the faint rumble of the crowd inside. Before a security guard could ask why they were there, Y/n’s managers, Hank and Tasha Robinson noticed them and rushed over. “Pete! Great to see ya!” The pilot exchanged hugs with the couple. They then greet Bradley, who they’ve known since he was a child, and the squad, “You guys must be the pilots! It’s nice to meet you all—are you excited for the show?”

“Absolutely.” “Can’t wait!” “We’re so excited.” “Thank you for allowing us to come on such short notice.”

“You all look great!” Tasha grinned, gasping when she saw Nat’s outfit, “Oh my goodness. Hank, look! You recognize this?” Blushing immensely, Nat didn’t know how to react besides laughing nervously as they complimented her. “You look fabulous, darling.”

“Thank you. It’s an honor to wear it—I-I hope I did it justice.”

At that moment Y/n came around the corner, a slight skip in her step until she was lifted into Pete’s arms causing her to break into giggles. They hadn’t seen each other in almost two weeks while she was touring the west coast cities. It filled the squad with warmth seeing their mentor/friend so happy. Nerves filled them, they were about to meet one the greatest voices of rock music.

Mav spun Y/n around before setting her back down, the two sharing a sweet kiss. “Missed you, baby.”

“I missed you too,” he says against her lips, kissing them once more before guiding her to the group. Bradley is the first to hug Y/n, who squeals in delight since it had been months since they last saw each other.

“Hey sugar, look at you! It seems like every time I see you, you got a new look going on,” she fluffs his hair which was now lighter in tone after he got some highlights. “You look good, Roo. Is this a new shirt?” she gestures to the Hawaiian shirt beneath the leather jacket Bradley was wearing.

“Had to pull it out for the special occasion,” he gives her a sweet kiss to the cheek while handing her the bouquet of flowers he and Mav got. Thanking him, Y/n grins at the sight of the group standing behind him.

“And you fellas must be the famous dagger squad I’ve heard all about!” They were literally speechless as they stared back at the singer. She literally was what one would envision when they thought of a rockstar. Smudged eyeliner with sparkly eyeshadow framed her eyes, dark red lipstick and her outfit was black leather that showed a bit of skin due to some cutouts, but was still modest. Where the skin showed they could make out intricate tattoos and both her arms had half sleeves of ink. She had on a harness with silver chains, thigh high boots with studs along the sides.

She was THE rockstar.

Though in her late 50s, Y/n was still breathtakingly beautiful. Yeah there was some grayness to her otherwise shiny, healthy hair, and some age lines around her eyes and mouth that poked through the makeup, but Y/n could literally pass for mid to late 40s. Same with Pete who just turned 60 and looked amazing for his age. Standing next to each other, they were one hot ass couple.

“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you guys—in person now! Ah I’ve been buzzing with excitement since we got off the phone earlier,” she clapped her hands, moving to Fanboy who was internally losing it like his namesake.

“I-I hi, w-wow. I’m Mickey Garcia—or talk about irony, you may call me Fanboy. It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. L/n—Mitchell uh-I’m sorry. I’m a big fan.”

Y/n giggled, shaking his outstretched hand before bringing him into a friendly hug. “Oh honey, I don’t even know what to call myself sometimes. But, please call me Y/n. You guys are family now.” She goes down the line to meet each pilot, shaking their hand and hugging while saying their name back to instill it in her memory. Of course she knew their names and faces from photos, but meeting them in person was completely different and Y/n wanted to make sure she would remember who was who. When she gets to Natasha’s she can’t help but shriek, “Yay you wore it! You look amazing-oh my gosh!”

“Thank you so much,” Nat blushes again, this time because the owner of said outfit she wore was gushing over her. “Thank you for letting me wear it—I will do my best to not let anything happen to it.” Y/n assures her to not worry about it and the two have the band photographer take a couple photos of them. The guys video the whole thing causing Phoenix to flip them off at times which has the married couple laugh. Soon the band comes out, causing Fanboy, Bob, and Coyote to almost lose it and before they know it everyone is conversing like it was an ordinary Friday night. Hondo, Mav, Y/n, Phoenix and Payback are off to the side with Maya, Evan, and their kids while the others are chatting with other members and their families who came to the show.

“It’s unreal to think this year marks forty-four years,” Evan said, sitting on one of the chairs with his hand on Maya’s lower back who stood beside him.

“Yeah,” she agreed with a smile, “just a group of kids we were then. With a dream only the effects of good ole weed could give us the confidence to have our asses out at that park and hope someone would hear us.”

Y/n drops her head laughing, aware of the somewhat surprised looks of the aviators and Hondo. “Wait-really?” Y/n was known for her exhilarating stage presence. She was like Elvis, Janis Joplin, and Micheal Jackson, always captivating the crowd and keeping them hype. When watching the performances it was like Y/n was in her own little world and thrived on the energy.

“It was the 70s,” she shrugged, still smiling which made her eyes crinkle. “Believe it or not we all used to have stage fright—especially in the beginning when we first started performing. We were….gosh fourteen when we signed, fifteen when we performed on Johnny Carson. Good Lord I was shaking in my boots in the dressing room,” she gave a mock shake of the shoulders, reliving the memory, “The only way I could get up there and sing was if I had smoked. Took the edge off.” Maya and Evan nodded in agreement, Y/n leaning into Maverick’s arms as he stood behind her chair. “I think it was after we toured in ‘85 for ‘Love Is The Eighth Deadly Sin,’ that I could perform without anything. Though I still did it at times,” her smile fell into more of a sad expression, adding, “and unfortunately being in the industry at that time, and being so young, we were exposed to other things.”

She didn't have to explain to the aviators, for it was public knowledge when they read up on the band during their drive that Y/n, Ronnie and Danny had admitted to experimenting in the 80s with cocaine. It was common in that era, with many artists and actors in Hollywood able to get their hands on it easily. For Y/n, it was the frontman of another rock group she’d been romantically linked to who introduced her to the drug. Thankfully nothing ever happened that caused a big scandal or had the members needing professional help. They had their family, the support of their crew and each other so they never let anyone fall too deep to where they couldn’t get back up.

“But we survived,” Maya emphasizes, beaming at her husband, “and it sure has been one hell of a ride since. I can’t wait for November—I think I’m more excited for the induction ceremony than I was for the Super Bowl.” Evan goes on to playfully reject the claim, insisting his wife was way more excited about getting that call over 20 years ago than the news just last month about the Hall of Fame.

Y/n just shakes her head with fondness, leaning more into Maverick, who kisses the top of her head.

“Brings back memories, huh? Here at the Staples Center again after so many years.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, his friends chatting with the guitarist and bassist. “I just wish Ice and Slider were here. Then it would really be a blast from the past.”

“I saw Slider when we played in Florida. He brought the whole family—it was amazing.”

“Yeah he called me afterwards. Said you guys put on the best show of the year,” his lips curled up, leaning more towards her ear, “he also told me you threw in a song in the set I was going to get a kick out of.”

Y/n mirrored his smile, eyes full of mischief, “Oh you will, but I ain’t saying nothing, hot stuff. You’ll have to wait for when it comes up.”

“Can’t wait,” he chuckles, kissing her cheek lovingly.

Roughly ten minutes later the stage manager was rushing over, “We’re down to t-minus twenty till showtime people—we gotta start clearing!” Immediately the band are hurrying to say their goodbyes. Y/n practically runs to find the person needed to take the group to their seats. When she does, they hand out the passes to each person, “Julius is going to take you all up to the room. It’s gonna be one of the VIP boxes, the closest to the stage I believe, and it should have sodas, water, alcohol, and food. But if you need anything then just run it by him.”

They all spit out words of gratitude, blown away by the special treatment they were receiving. Y/n takes her time to hug each one of the pilots, who wish her good luck and thank her again for everything. Rooster lets his hug linger a bit longer, as does Maverick who brings the woman into a passionate kiss. “Thank you for doing this, baby. I owe you.”

“It’s your birthday, Pete. You know I would do anything to make you happy,” she lowers her voice into his ear, kissing the area just below, “Sorry it couldn’t be like the good ole days when I would sneak you into my dressing for some fun.” His hands squeeze her hips, sighing at the memories as she giggled.

“There’s still the after party,” he warns her, tone thick with something she knew all too well.

“I’m well aware, hot stuff.”

They share another kiss. And another. And another before Y/n pushes him away at the teasing shouts of everyone around them, Pete bidding good luck to her and the band before he sets off with the group. Rooster nudges him, smirking at the retired pilot, “well that kiss sure would motivate anyone about to go on stage.”

“Don’t start, Bradley.”

By the time they reached the room, they could literally feel the rumble of the crowd when the lights in the arena shut off. “Holy shit,” Mickey said, the first to open the balcony door of the room where they would view the show. Inside were couches, chairs, tvs, and refreshments. Coyote had his phone out, videoing the scene for his instagram story as they all grabbed beers and water before taking spots on the balcony.

The sight was surreal. The stage was to their left and extended out, splitting the floor in half. Approximately 20,000 people could fit in the Staples Center, and from the looks of it 20,000 people were in attendance. It was a sold out show after all. People from all age groups were there. Hell Bob swore he saw some young kids on the shoulders of their parents. The most were obviously the older crowd who likely grew up in the 80s, but there were definitely college kids and Millennials.

It got louder and louder when the two minute countdown appeared on the Jumbotron, along with a video montage of the band. Some clips showed them when they were first starting out up to them preparing for the reunion tour. As it drew closer to zero, the video showed a pre-taped montage of each member taking their place on stage. Maya wrapping the strap of her bass around her shoulder, Evan with his guitar. Ronnie taking place in front of the keyboard and Danny sitting at his drums. Lastly Y/n strutted up to the microphone, the clock hitting zero the moment her hand raises in the air and the arena goes black.

Not even a second passes before Evan’s opening guitar riff sends the crowd roaring. It was the opening to, ‘Thunderstruck,’ a song that literally was in almost every modern day action movie known to man. It was hilarious to see the guys and Phoenix lose their shit, recognizing the iconic song. There was a black curtain keeping the actual stage hidden from everyone's view, but chills came onto everyone’s arms when Y/n’s voice filled their ears

“I was caught in the middle of a railroad track.” The crowd echoed the ‘Thunder,’ with the band. “I looked ‘round and I knew there was no turning back.”

“THUNDER!” The squad shouted, fist pumping and beginning to dance. Already they knew it was going to be the best night of their lives.

When the curtain gave way as Y/n hit the chorus of the song, the audience literally exploded, increasing in volume when she shouted into the mic, “Los Angeles let me hear you!!!!” The camera’s were glued to her as she strutted down the middle of the stage where it split the floor. Her voice carried with each lyric, living up to the hype and sounding as though it was still 1985.

Nat—scratch that all of the guys, especially Maverick, were in awe. Jaws dropped, except Rooster who was living his best life having experienced a Y/n & the Romantics show as a teenager. Now as an adult man the aviator was overjoyed seeing his second mom performing on stage again with her best friends.

“Cap, your wife is the coolest person on earth!” Hangman shouted against the loud music. Maverick simply beamed, eyes never leaving his wife, “I know.”

When the song came to an end, Y/n sighed lovingly, “Ahhh it’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all dearly. Did you miss us?” She paused, screams igniting before adding, “That’s what I’m talking about, baby. It’s been twenty years since we last performed here at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, and we’d like to thank you all immensely for welcoming us back. We’ve worked hard the past two years putting this show together for you, the fans. For all of you regardless if you’re just discovering us, or have been rockin since 1979.”

The energy was off the charts the entire concert. Y/n was feeding off of it on stage, and in turn her presence was feeding the crowd. In between sets she interacted with her friends/bandmates, often coming close to those on the floor to ask how they were.

“You having fun tonight?” Everyone nodded frantically, a woman close to the stage shouting, “So much fun! We love you!”

“We love you too, doll. Don’t worry the night is just getting started.” After the first couple songs Y/n informs the crowd, “I hope you all don’t mind, but as you know this is the ‘Rockin’ Down Memory Lane’ tour,” cheers erupted from every angle, “so as a treat for you fine folks this evening, we won’t just be rockin down our own memory lane. We wanna give some shoutouts to some of the greats rock music has ever seen, and some of the friends we made being a part of this world thanks to all of you. And what better way to start than by kicking it off with the song that got us discovered in the first place.”

The audience was going crazy, die hard fans knowing damn well what song the rockstar was referring to. “Whoooo!!!” Coyote felt the chills when Y/n belted out the opening of ‘Cry Baby’ by Janis Joplin. “Damn girl, sing it!” One of the hardest songs to sing, Y/n had so much emotion it nearly brought a tear to some of their eyes. Rooster brought his finger to his mouth to whistle when the song finished.

The band would do three more of their songs or a medley before covering another artist/group. “Y’all may have heard the rumor…..of the special club we’re being invited to join this fall,” Y/n smirked, hand on her hip next to Maya. Cheering indicated the crowd were aware of the news. “We’re not the only ones. Some friends of ours were also invited. You may have heard of them….Duran Duran?” She pauses to let them scream, the woman chuckling before bringing the mic back to her lips. “They just played recently at the Garden and gave a special rendition of our ‘Highway To Hell,’….so we thought to return the favor,” pausing again, Y/n nods to her band where they begin their cover of ‘Hungry Like The Wolf,’ sending the audience into a frenzy.

“I fucking love this song!!” Nat screams excitedly, passing her beer to Rooster so she could freely dance without worrying about spilling it. The outfit she wore likely cost more than her college tuition. She’d be damned if she let anything happen to it.

“Darken the city, night is a wire,” The smile never left Y/n’s face, “Steam in the subway, earth is afire.” Chills happened along her arms when the entire stadium echoed, “do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do.”

She couldn’t wait to see how the guys of Duran Duran, who she and the Romantics were lucky to call friends, react to them singing their song. On Twitter she hinted at wanting to do another collaboration after seeing the video of the band perform their ‘Highway To Hell’. In 1988 the two groups released a single together, topping the Billboard charts for nearly 30 weeks. Plus both were being inducted in November to the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame. Surely it would the collab of the century if they did.

Halfway through the show they took an intermission. During that time everyone had a bathroom break, ate some of the food provided and grabbed more drinks. Thankfully Mav did inform them Y/n’s managers got them hotel rooms not too far from the venue so they didn’t have to worry about driving back to San Diego late. When the band returned on stage for the second half of the show it appeared they had changed outfits. Y/n now sported black leather shorts that ended midthigh with fishnets tucked into her leather knee-high boots and a cropped Def Leppard shirt. The sides were cut out showing off her lace bodysuit beneath it. They went straight into songs from their ‘Love & Thunder’ era that took place in the early 90s.

Not too long after she was flagged down by the stage manager, Rick, who was in front of the floor barricade. “What do we have here?” She hummed curiously, taking the two evelopes from him. Rick shouted that it was from the couple directly behind him, who were waving frantically at the singer. The envelop on top said ‘read first.’ Confirming she could read it aloud, Y/n brought the audience to a low tone so everyone could hear.

“Dear Y/n, Maya, Evan, Ronnie, and Danny,” she read off into the mic, glancing to her friends who appeared just as curious as her. “Our names are Damien and Alana Michaels, we’re both 31 years old and met six years ago because of our shared love for your music,” Y/n awed, beaming at the couple then laughed when the letter followed, “We met at a record store and practically fought over the last copy of your limited edition vinyl of ‘Rock n Rollin to Heaven’. We were over the moon when you announced the reunion tour and feel we’ve come full circle tonight seeing as that we fell in love because your music has been an influencial part of our lives. Alana is five months pregnant with our first child,” cheering erupted, causing Y/n to speak louder into the microphone with a giant grin, “Would you do us the honor in revealing the gender of our baby?”

Y/n let the crowd scream for a moment before calming them down again, settling her gaze on the couple, “This envelope right here,” she holds up the unopened document, “has the gender of your baby?”

“Yes!” Alana shouts in glee while Damien nods, mirroring his wife’s expression.

“Give me one moment, honey—don’t go anywhere.” The stadium watches the rockstar rush to her friends, calling them over away from the mics to have a quick chat. Opening the envelope, the camera catches their reaction for the screen and they all talk for a moment before taking back their respective places.Y/n runs over to the couple again, a little out of breath, “Alright! Alana, Damien, congratulations are in store. You are bringing a new life into the world, and the Romantics and I think the best way for you to welcome them is by singing this song when they arrive,” she then looks to the crows, “To anyone who knows the words, feel free to sing along. On three guys,” she points to her friends and counts off, “One…two…three!”

“Isn’t she lovely?” Alana visibly broke into tears while Damien jumps up and down in joy. The band where harmonizing with the frontwoman, the stadium so loud it was hard to hear at times, but thankfully the speakers were at full amp to hear them sing. The couple embraced each other, consumed with happiness at the news. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

“Isn’t she precious?” Staples Center practically echoed with 20,000 people singing Stevie Wonder’s song. Y/n grinned, loving ever second of the coordinated tune. “Less than one minute old.”

“I never thought,” Y/n belted out, “through love we’d be.”

“Making one as lovely as she.”

“But isn’t she lovely, made from love,” Drawing out the ‘love’ Y/n finished the verse by shouting against the screams, “IT’S A GIRL!” Handing back the envelope with the gender to Rick, Y/n asked if she could keep the letter to which the couple agreed. Pocketing it in her shorts, Y/n says, “Congratulations Alana and Damien! Thank you for allowing us to be a part of this exiting moment. On behalf of the Romantics and everyone in attendance, we wish you the absolute best on bringing your daughter into the world and may she be blessed with joy all her life….and maybe unleash her inner rockstar from time to time,” laughter erupted, “give it up for Alana, Damien, and Baby girl Michaels!!”

Fifteen more minutes pass of the band performing their songs before taking a five minute break to set up for their next cover.

“Alright,” Y/n takes a breath, walking down the end of the extended stage. “This next trip down memory lane, has me want to ask you all a question. Ready to hear it?” When they respond with an echo, ‘yes!!’ Y/n allows the smirk to appear, “Do you guys have that one song…that you would call, your stripper song?” A laugh escapes her by the increase in volume from the sold out arena. She could just picture what looks her husband received from his former students. “You know that one song that has you thinking, ‘Gosh give me a pole and I will work it better than anyone has before,’ that kind of song?” Y/n stops halfway through the long stretch of platform, glancing around to the various sections of people.

“I would like to sing for you my stripper song—o-oh okaaaay that’s a nice reaction,” she chuckled, winking at a few spectators on the floor who were like, ‘Hell yeah!’ Pointing a finger out to a random direction, she says with a knowing look, “Now if this happens to be your stripper song too, don’t you get naked—this ain’t that kind of show,” laughter fills her ears, “Plus there's children here tonight, so technically this is a family show. So I would like to apologize now to the parents, but then again, this is a fucking rock show,” the cheers escalated, agreeing with the woman on what she was about to say, “So if you didn’t want them to see us in our element, you should’ve left them at home. But please, for the love of God, keep your clothes on if this song happens to get you in the same mood it gets me. Ready guys!”

“We're ready, babe!” Maya shouts with Evan, Danny and Ronnie giving a thumbs up.

“Step inside!” Y/n yells into the mic.

“Walk this way!” They shout into their own.

“You and me babe!”

“Hey! Hey!”

unworldly, was the way best to describe the Staples Center when the opening chords of Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me,’ sounded through the speakers. No wonder she wore the band’s shirt, hinting they were going to cover one of their songs at some point. Fans went crazy when Y/n did some of her iconic moves like crawling on the floor, flipping her hair back and forth and even usuing the mic stand as though it was a pole. She was in her element, the stage was truly where she shined.

Some of the guys were hollaring, patting Maverick on the back with knowing looks. The older man was blushing mad when they realized something was on his mind with the way he was staring at his wife. It didn’t help Y/n was biting her lip, running her hands along her body during the ‘Sugar me sweet,’ line. The camera was glued to her the entire performance.

“I know that look!” Hangman pointed out the Captain’s expression.

“Yeah, Mav, if you plan to sneak off to the dressing room after the show, don’t worry we won’t say anything.”

The band went straight into ‘Hollywood Nights,’ by Bob Seger as way to pay homage to the fact they were performing in Los Angeles, Hollywood not too far away. Jake was a big fan of the song and Rooster videoed the pilot dancing his heart out, spinning Nat around at times as they belted the lyrics.

Coming down to the final 30 minutes of the show, Y/n called the crowds attention, “This next song….is dedicated to someone very special in the audience. He’s turning 60 tomorrow and I’m celebrating twenty years of marriage with him in October.” Her smile became wider at the cheers, walking to the side of the stage closest to where Pete and the gang were.

“That’s you, my man!” Rooster playfully shakes Mav, the squad cheering when the camera pans to him. Giving a little wave, Pete blows a kiss to Y/n, who pretends to catch it.

“Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell everyone,” she pauses lightly, “With him tonight is someone who is practically our son—Lord knows I treat him like one,” Rooster does a little dance, the camera zooming out from Mav to capture the aviator next to him. “And some of his former students, the Navy’s finest fighter pilots, who I like to call his, ‘Dagger ducklings.’” The squad awed at the nickname, Fanboy and Coyote hugging up on the man.

“Does this mean you’re our papa duck, Mav?”

“Imma let y’all in on a little secret,” Y/n leans into the mic with a whisper, “That whole thing about us breaking up in the 90s? Yeah, it didn’t happen.” Laughing, Y/n stands back straight, “Right now I’m feeling a little sentimental. Pete and I actually met at a bar about two blocks away after we played here in 1989. It was there he….to put it lightly, swooned me like nobody had ever done before.” Dropping his head onto the railing, Pete’s shoulders shook as he laughed, the memory of that night replaying in his mind. “Maya knows what I’m talking about.”

“Sure do,” the bassist replied. “I think he put on better show than we did.”

“Oh God,” Maverick put a hand to his mouth to cover his grin. So many emotions were flooding him. Mostly warmth, but a tad of embarrassment.

If only Ice and Goose were here to see this.

“He sure did. And tonight I wanna take him and I down memory lane. So ladies and gentlemen, this is for anyone who’s lost that lovin’ feeling.”

Words couldn’t describe what Pete felt listening to Y/n sing, ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling.’ Maya and Ronnie provided the back up vocals, harmonizing with Y/n during the chorus. The entire time she sang Y/n was swaying and keeping her body faced to the section Pete was at. The two connected eyes at times, lost in each other’s gaze causing the two to feel the love radiate one another.

She sounded so beautiful. Of course it was well known Y/n was very versatile with her music and voice. She could take it high and low, mellowing out for a slow tune. There was a lot of soul in her and the band, which is not surprising since they starting in Atlanta. They grew up on blues, jazz, and classic rock. Inspired by the greats like Billie Holiday, B.B King, Janis Joplin, Elvis, Little Richard, and the Mama’s & Papas.

Pete cheered the loudest in their group when the song came to end, whistling along with Rooster. Y/n blew him a kiss, “Never lose that lovin’ feeling with me, honey.”

Not too long after it came time for the final number. “Imma need ‘Dirty Diana’ for this one,” Y/n announced, moving to the middle of the stage where the mic stand was. A crew member appeared from the side, handing over a neon green Fender Stratocaster. She pulled the strap over her shoulder, “Los Angeles, as we come to tonight’s closing I want you to know you all have, without a doubt, been the best crowd ever. L.A, you know how to bring the energy and we can’t thank you enough for what a blast it’s been playing for you all. What a way to end our tour—can’t believe it’s already over, but fear not…we’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Evan, Maya, Ronnie, and Danny all say a few words, then they all thank their managers, crew, friends, and family for allowing them to put on a great show. Lastly they thank the fans in an tearfelt speach, finishing it off telling everyone to have a safe journey back home and to keep rockin n rolling. Y/n closes it out with, “Los Angeles sing this last one with us. It’s been a long way to the top,” the screams got louder, “but worth every damn second.”

Staples Center erupted, Y/n letting her hands work magic on the guitar as she played the opening riff of ‘It’s A Long Way To The To (If You Wanna Rock ‘N’ Roll) .’ Then Evan came in his riffs followed by Danny’s drums. Maya and Y/n banged their head together, leaning toward one as they feed off each other’s energy.

“Oh shit!” Payback whistled, shaking his shoulder along to the beat. This was a song he used to dance to in college with his buddies. It brought back memories for the pilot, nostalgia filling him just like it was to many in the crowd.

“Ridin’ down the highway. Goin’ to a show. Stop in all the byways. Playin’ rock ‘n’ roll.”

“Gettin’ robber, gettin’ stoned, gettin’ beat up. Broken-boned. Gettin’ had, gettin’ took. I’ll tell you, folks, it’s harder than it looks.”

Pretty much everyone shouted the lyrics in the chorus, one of the most recognizable ones in music history.

“It’s a long way to the top if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll!”

“It’s a long way to the top if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll!”

It went crazy during Y/n’s solo that had all the pilot’s, minus Mav & Rooster, jaws drop. The entire show she hadn’t played the guitar much save for maybe two songs, but it was not to the absolute greatness she was displaying now. Evan guitar solos were off the chain, as were Danny’s drums. Then they had Ronnie tearing it up on the keys with Maya crowning herself the queen of the bass. The voice of the band, Y/n showed she was as talented with the instrument as she was putting lyrics to paper and belting them out for her heart’s desire.

They truly were one of the greatest rock bands to exist.

Even after the song ended they were going hard on the instruments, finishing the show with a literally bang. Lights were flashing, every single person on their feet, Danny and Evan hitting one last solo and instilling the moment as one for the history books.

“Thank you, Los Angeles!! We’ll see you next time! Good night and keep on rockin’!!”

11:58 pm, two blocks away at Melvin’s Planet Enterprise Bar

“Feels like deja vu,” Y/n laughed, dancing with Pete to the tune of ‘When Doves Cry’ in the familiar bar. Though it had a new name and owner, it still gave the same effect as it did in 1989. This time, however, there were posters of Y/n & the Romantics, one of which was signed and framed just above the jukebox playing classic hits and even some of theirs.

Y/n had changed out of her clothes again, wearing black jeans and tank top with a blue leather jacket that had studs and chains attached to the sides. Her makeup had been touched up, hair pulled in a ponytail. It was almost comical how the scene was just like that night in ‘89 with blue strobe lights shining down on them, making her look illuminated.

The dagger squad were in their own little world, dancing and drinking with each other and the band’s crew members. Jake was getting along quite well with someone from Y/n’s glam team, Nat chatting with a member of the security. Then there was Coyote dancing with the oldest daughter of Maya and Evan. They had rented out the place after the show, everyone hauling ass to celebrate the end of the tour. All grown up, the children of the Romantics could enjoy the night as well, not having to worry about being underage now that the youngest of the bunch had turned 21 the previous month.

When they arrived the party was in full blast, Rooster pulling Y/n to the dance floor to share a dance. Then they duetted ‘Great Balls of Fire,’ with him on the piano. Everyone sang at the top of their lungs. Pete held Y/n, head banging with her at the ‘Mine! Mine! Mine!’ bit and sneaking kisses during, ‘kiss me, baby!’

When her feet started to hurt from standing, Y/n sat in Pete’s lap and nursed a cocktail while they chatted with Hondo and Ronnie’s wife. Over in a corner Bob was on the phone with his family after his sister saw Phoenix’s instagram story, “You saw Y/n & the Romantics tonight!?! How the hell did you manage to get tickets—they were sold out!”

“Uhh….you remember my instructor from that mission awhile back? Turns out he’s marrried to Y/n L/n.”

“WHAT!?! Pete Mitchell was your instructor!?” Bob swore his mother about went into cardiac arrest, screaming when Y/n appeared on screeen after he politely asked if she would mind saying hello to his mother. The rockstar of course said yes, she loved interacting and meeting supporters. They were the reason she got to live her dream. Bob nearly cried seeing his mother in tears, overcome with emotion at the fact she was meeting her favorite singer of all time. After the call ended Y/n gave the WSO a tour program she had all the members sign, “give this to your momma for me. Tell her I hope to see her on the next tour.”

The dagger squad were literally becoming Y/n’s adoptive children by the second. Mickey couldn’t believe he got her to do a tiktok with him, then she had a shot of tequila with Reuben. As Nat danced the woman hyped her up with Maya and she had a semi dance off with Javy. Throughout the night stories were told about meeting Princess Diana in 1995, playing in New York on New Year’s Eve of 1999, the Super Bowl, and their iconic performance at the first MTV video music awards in 1984. They were like children gathered by the Christmas tree listening to her read a book. All they could think was how cool she was and the fact the band had truly changed the world of music over their spand of 40 years.

Prince’s iconic ‘When Doves Cry’ started to play just before midnight and it was like slow motion for the rockstar, moving to her husband who was already staring at her with the same expression. Now they really were back in 1989.

“It does,” Mav beamed at his wife, the song hitting it’s second verse. “Only thing missing are the cameras flashing, Ice and Slider sending me a thumbs up, and jealous looks from patrons.” His words make her giggle, throwing her head back slightly.

“Ice is definitely giving you a thumbs up with Goose,” her voice turns soft, stroking the side of his neck, “Bradley’s got his phone out. No doubt videoing us as I speak. He knows how significant this song is.”

“Remind me to have him send me it,” he tells her, dipping her suddenly causing her to squeal. Lips press to her cheek when he pulls her back up.

“Wanna know something though, hot stuff?”

“What?”

The light hitting her eyes shows off the mischief matching her smirk, “This time ‘round, you won’t just be getting a kiss goodnight. You actually get to take me home.” Thank god the lighting hid the color of his face, otherwise she would get a good look at how red it was.

It didn’t stop her from seeing the smile however, Mav shaking his head playfully. He didn’t have to reply for her to know what he was thinking. Just his laugh was enough.

As the clock stuck midnight, Y/n brought him into a sweet kiss, “Happy Birthday, Pete. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. Thank you.”

The rest of the night was filled with celebration, not just for the epic end of the tour and impending induction as Rock ‘N’ Roll hall of famers, but also the life of the Navy’s most famous pilot. Until it came time to leave, not a single minute was wasted in having the best night of their lives.

All of which happened because two souls decided to go to the same bar after a concert. One a spectator, the other the performer. Both who made names of themselves in their own right, embedding their legacy forever for generations to come. It took a hell of a time to do it, but as one knows….it’s a long way to the top you wanna rock ‘n’ roll.

……………………

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry

#Spotify #pete mitchell imagine #pete mitchell x reader #captain pete maverick mitchell #maverick x reader #maverick imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #Bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #natasha trace imagine #captain pete mitchell #pete mitchell x y/n #rockstar!reader #fluff #pete mitchell fluff #dagger squad x reader #dagger squad imagine #dagger squad #singer!reader #top gun maverick headcanon #rooster imagine #rooster x reader

[troius]

I just want to say a few things before you get to the end. First up, it's been a pleasure to read your thoughts on the series; like any fan, you have your own unique interpretations and it's always good to read how fans see certain scenes. It's also been fantastic to see fellow fans respond to your posts adding on to what you've written, again bringing your thoughts out more and generating discussion.

Also, seeing your thoughts has made me appreciate scenes and characters I never thought I would -- Yamamoto for instance, who would've thought?! They've also reminded me of why I fell in love with the series as much as I did, from the artwork to the themes to the incredible bonds between the characters. You've reminded me that BLEACH has it's flaws that can sometimes take you out of the story, but when it hits, it 100% HITS! It's a manga that's about the bonds we form, how they can help us overcome challenges and be a source of light in our lives. It's about the ways we overcome grief and the fear of death, whether it's literally fighting your way through it or slowly coming to a state of acceptance as time goes on. It's about the 'hearts' of people, about what they look like and how they're shared between those you choose. I could go on and on, but then this would become an essay and we'd be here all day.

All of this is to say, thank you for choosing to create a Tumblr account and deciding to read the series and give your thoughts along the way. I can't believe you've finally reached the end, it almost feels like I'm saying goodbye to the manga again!! I don't think I'm the only one here who sees you as a big and valued part of the community on here, so I hope you'll be sticking around! :)

Thank you so much Rays! Response under the cut because it went long.

This won't surprise you, but I too have grown in my appreciation for the series over the course of the uh three years that I've run this blog. Bleach has character concepts I've never seen elsewhere. It has moments of storytelling brilliance. It has truly, phenomenally astonishing art.

But more than anything else, I, like you, am impressed by the heart. For a story that's largely about the afterlife, Bleach is shockingly humanistic, locating virtue not in any system of belief, in any group or faction in the various conflicts that provide the setting for the manga, but in people. All people, whether they're our extremely relatable teenage protagonist and his friends, the occasionally sketchy adults in his life, or the various adversaries ranging from evil monsters to supernatural samurai to a regular-ass gang to a foreign apocalypse cult. Bleach never, not once, lets the viewer fall into the comfortable childish space of believing that there's good people and bad people in the world.

There's just people. Sometimes these people want to do bad things, like execute their sisters, or kidnap your girlfriend, or isolate you from your family, or destroy the entire world. Bleach doesn't flinch away from that either. But it (again, very humanistically) locates those bad actions not in the individual human beings, but in our relationships with one another through the systems and structures we've created to organize ourselves.

And yet in the face of the idea that humans do their worst work through other people, that's also where Bleach locates its greatest virtue. Alone, we're nothing. It's the bonds that we have with others that are what make life worth living, that are the source of everything good in this world. And navigating that dynamic, between spiritual bonds and structural shackles...that's really what adult life is all about, isn't it?

Anyhow, my adult life has been greatly enriched by all of you on here. But I'll take the chance to thank you specifically Rays, for being such a source of joy. Your positivity and passion are the sort of thing that makes a humble blogger want to come back for more, and I've deeply enjoyed hearing all of your thoughts, not just on my liveblog, but through your own posts and writing. I'll be sticking around for sure.

#bleach #ask Troius

[treethymes]

In my landmark analysis of The Wind Rises, I interpreted the film in terms of Miyazaki working through his feelings on his life’s work—perhaps regret and shame thinking of all the sacrifices from others it took to bring his work to fruition, to pursue his desires and ideals; his ideas on what “beauty” is and perhaps how glad he is that it exists/is created in spite of all the suffering that may be attached to it. I did not talk about the relatively more straightforward ways of reading the film, which is of course about Japan during World War II: Miyazaki reflecting on the factors that drive history, what it means to live through, to be embedded in—and to look back on—so much violence; Miyazaki reckoning with his own family’s role in the imperialist war effort as well as his lifelong infatuation with the aesthetics of military machinery. Considering these modes of interpretation together yields a portrait of a man and his art—Where does it come from? What does it value? Where does it want to go? As such, The Wind Rises is arguably a very rich and fitting swan song. And yet, with its grounded, adult perspective on the war, the film also sticks out like a sore thumb in Miyazaki’s oeuvre and maybe always sat uncomfortably as a conclusion to it.

For those who feel that way, The Boy and the Heron should come as a welcome addition to Miyazaki’s filmography. It is, after all, a return to fantasy adventure with a child protagonist—something that feels, at least more so than a quasi-biopic of an aircraft engineer does, like quintessential Miyazaki. But crucially for our purposes, the film is not just a return to a familiar form (often quite literally a sum of everything that came before it), it is an extension of and second half to The Wind Rises. Through the lens of my interpretation of The Wind Rises, The Boy and the Heron is like an inversion of The Wind Rises in that it foregrounds the concerns with artistry and legacy while keeping the war in the background and frame of the narrative.

Two scenes in The Boy and the Heron in particular reminded me of The Wind Rises. First is the scene of the dying pelican, which visually recalls the scene of the ill man in Princess Mononoke but in terms of the content of the dialogue reminds me more of the scene in The Wind Rises of the children turning down Jiro’s offer of castella cake. It is a reflection on poverty, pride, and survival. In the context of these films, we are led to consider specifically the condition of the Japanese people, the things they were driven to do, and are left to draw our own conclusions with regard to the nuances.

The other scene, of course, is the brief moment of Mahito looking at the windshields his father brings to the house and remarking on how beautiful they are. This scene embeds in The Boy and the Heron Miyazaki’s preoccupation with the aesthetic allure of aircraft originally designed for warfare, a contradiction between beauty and violence that is mirrored in the dream world that Mahito ultimately decides to reject.

In the dream world in The Boy and the Heron, there are so many echoes of past Miyazaki and Ghibli films it is deafening. Seemingly contrary to Jiro’s solemn resignation to the world of pyramids, Mahito rejects the dream world he’s inherited and ventures to build something new in the real world. But I’m not sure they are so far removed from each other. They are complimentary views of the same object (Miyazaki’s legacy), one from his own perspective and one from the perspective he hopes for future generations to take—one of not overly attaching themselves to some old fool’s dreams. In The Wind Rises, perhaps Miyazaki tries to celebrate his life’s work without celebrating it. In The Boy and the Heron, he gives us the greatest hits slideshow we wanted and then some—a celebration of the joys and tribulations of the creative act he so compulsively pursued—but not without gesturing to us nonetheless to peer beyond the curtain.

#hayao miyazaki #the boy and the heron #the wind rises

[livingmydreamlife5555]

MHA Dr #3

Name: Apollo Kamiyama

Birthday: January 24th

Height: 5'7"

Appearance: Low-key just a pretty boy. Imma add some art breeder photos at the bottom for more visuals of like my facial features. I combined multiple ones into a few that I liked. But yeah, I'm really pretty and I have freckles and curly hair 😻😻 me and midoriya twinning 🫶🏾🫶🏾 scripted that I remind people of the actual God Apollo if he was a human on Earth

Backstory: This one is a very interesting backstory lol. Long story short, my parents were devoted worshippers of the Greek gods. To show their devotion, they allowed the gods to bless me, aka their first child. So I have the blessings of the gods, like Percy Jackson type blessings, as if I were their child. They named me Apollo in honor of the first god they worked with. But that's not all 😏. They wanted me to become one of the greatest heroes. I was born with no quirk, so they gave me an advanced version of my parents quirks with some blessings of course. And that's how you get the gamer system, but the version from the web novel "Solo Leveling". I was born in Nigeria, but moved to America and did school there. I moved to Japan to do highschool at UA of course 💪🏾💪🏾. Don't know if imma actually script siblings, I already have some here 😭

Quirk: My life is mostly like a RPG player. I have quests I receive from the 12 gods themselves and some others. I can do anything a RPG player can do. The gods can open gates like in the webnovel solo leveling which the Gods open the gates to help me get stronger, with mythical greek monsters too. After my first gate, which the Gods use to test me, I get the skill shadow extraction, like from solo leveling. Anytime I defeat a monster, I can resurrect them to join my army under my command. In the original they are black and blue, but I scripted them to white and gold. The gates that the gods spawn can only be seen by me, and if I want others to see them then they could. The blessings I got from the gods show up as passive skills in my system (This whole quirk makes more sense if you read up on the main character's power).

Voice claim: Probably more higher than I sound in my other realities. I scripted something around Kenma Asmodeus (obey me), and Milo thatch combined. Just soft, pretty and angelic. "I sound like a beautiful tune from the instruments that the God Apollo would perfectly play" quite literally from my script

Extra info-

here are all the blessings and what they actually do (I don't get them all at once. There are six I get first, then I get the rest later on. They can grow from there too)

Zeus ⚡- power to control all elements (I start with the 4 basics, before moving into Lightning, metal, etc.)

Hera 🦚 - blessed with a loving relationship in my family

Poseidon 🔱 - power to breath underwater and and summon water beings on command

Hades 💀 - (couldn't really decide on one from him. But just something not over the top.)

Aphrodite 🦪 - the gift of absolute beauty and power to uncover the emotions hidden deep in one's soul

Apollo ☀️ - blessed with the voice of an angel and the powers of healing. My smile is like a beacon of light and shall illuminate the darkest of nights and usher hope for anyone.

Artemis 🌙 - blessed with the instincts of the best hunter, when needed. I shall radiate with calming light, soothing the ones around me.

Athena 🫒 - blessed with the gift of knowledge and learning capabilities. I can solve any puzzles and learn anything very quickly.

Hephaestus ⚒️ - blessed with the ability to forge anything with the right materials. I know how to use any weapon.

Hestia 🔥 - blessed with the burning desire to bring justice and gifted with the eternal flame.

Hermes 🪽 - blessed with the ability to tell if a person is pure of heart and tell if they are lying. I have the movements of water and can build up to the speed of light.

Demeter 🌿 - blessed with the power to control plant life and animals. Anywhere I go, the place shall prosper

Dionysus 🍷 - blessed with the ability to create anything only when in need. I can always find food

Ares ⚔️ - blessed with the power to solve any crisis and instill chaos when needed.

i have a more androgynous beauty in this Dr. Got a lot of beauty from Aphrodite of course 🙏🏾

I can also communicate with the gods as well and they come like little inboxes in my gamer systems.

I might script that we are rich, but just depends on how I'm feeling.

I have the same skills from the other drs obviously.

Welp that's it for this reality. This is also a really good way to reconnect with myself in my other realities too. Below are the art breeder pics of me. One more to gooo

-Honey out 🍯🍯🍯

#manifesting #reality shift #anti shifters dni #black shifters #bnha shifting #mha shifting #my hero academia reality shifting #reality shifter #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifter #shifters #shiftinconsciousness #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting blog #shifting community #shifting consciousness #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifting reality #shifting scenarios #shifting script #shifting to mha #shifting tumblr #shiftingrealities #shifttok #Honey dr 🍯

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ WINTER ROSES

tw. dubcon/noncon, babytrapping, manipulation, gaslighting, captivity, yandere oikawa, dacryphilia, a lot of praise, Stockholm syndrome, biting, one sided obsession/love, spit, kinda corruption-y wordcount. 10k

a/n. each other scene is the present timeline - just in case mWUAH ♡ commissioned by an amazing amazing follower ♡ it was just such a pleasure to write this piece even though it really pushed my two braincells! thank you so so much for commissioning me!! i really hope you enjoy <33

oikawa tooru x fem!reader

It’s surprisingly easy to catch yourself in a lie; Oikawa discovers this at the wrong time, the wrong place.

It’s plenty easy to have good intentions in words- and words only, but actions always speak louder. And sadly, his actions are not those of an ever forgiving, gracious person. He’s never claimed to be perfect, far from it. No, he’s many things, but never perfect— and that’s how he likes it. Because Oikawa Tooru might not be perfect, but he’s a bit of everything else in between. He’s intelligent, he knows this much. Could read quicker than Iwaizumi could, and his spatial awareness is unparallelled by almost anyone in his circle.

He’s cunning, never sly— an easy combination that keeps him from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He’s been told many a time he’s far from bad on the eyes, and well— though he’s not opposed to using it to his advantage here and there, he’s no show-off by nature. He’s perfectly imperfect, the shining jewel of a bustling city where standing out is about your greatest luck in life. After all, all his imperfection is what keeps the human form entertaining.

But lies like this- you’re happy, you’re in love, you would do anything for him; they’re easy to dispute when you are dropping your head off the side of the bed and your tears are dripping onto the floor. His ‘don’t make me see you cry’ order is taken a bit too literal for his liking, but he guesses it’s a stubborn, resilient defiance of yours. It’s surprisingly easy to catch yourself in a lie. You still get this way when you are reminded of home, of your brother and your parents and everything you were forced to leave behind for him. All sniveling and making him feel, quite honestly, really shitty.

And he’s not delusional, he knows it was forced. Forcefully taken. He’s just good at making you doubt it. Doubt it and give into him when he offers you a few tissues and helps you back up onto the covers, opening his arms for you. As hard as he’s tried to make it into a tightly woven truth, there’s nothing about the way you sink into his arms and bury your face into the soft crook of his neck that is authentic. He’s a million lies in with no intention of stopping, and that’s fine. He’ll be fine with the mountain of lies at the end of the day.

If it means running his hands along the back of your head and laying sweet kisses on the top of your crown that you so gladly nuzzle into. Whatever you need to do for love, right? However much you need to lie?

He clears his voice in the darkness of the room, shivering a little at the jangle of the chain around your ankle. He softly nudges up your face to face him, studies the pretty planes of your face and your puffy eyes, the way your bottom lip is more swollen and flushed full of blood. You’re so beautiful to him. More beautiful than he could ever ask for, more beautiful than he deserves. He brushes a stray strand away from your face before smiling into the night, wrapping his strong arms around your body. “You’re so beautiful, angel.”

You don’t say much in return, shyly nuzzling his jaw as you hide away in embarrassment, and the tenderness gives him shivers. “Another nightmare?”

“S’nothing,” you mumble back, kissing along the marks he demanded you lay on him the night before, a promise of your love or his. “I love you, Tooru.” You’re already laying back down between his legs, allowing him to prop himself up against the headboard as you slowly sink back into sleep. The ‘I love you more’ on his tongue remains unspoken, not willing to wake you up again in fear of more memories crawling back up to the surface. He sees the way you look over your shoulder to watch him sometimes, eyes growing a bit too wide with revelations.

Wild, like a prey animal caught in a trap. An appropriate visual that doesn’t clear his head from the countless thoughts that swim in circles and keep him from pushing any further. You might break if he tries, and he loves you way too much to break you. This is a first to him too, you know. Uncharted territory. It’s a dance he’s unpracticed in, a little clumsy as he appraises you with your mouth half open on his chest. Isn’t it enough for him to be trying? Despite all his losses and his flaws.

He taps his foot impatiently against the metal chain crossing half of the bed with a sigh, before wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. Iwaizumi never warned him it would be this hard, but then again, Oikawa’s sure his friend isn’t exactly familiar with the comings and goings of this situation either. He can only assure himself that one day you’ll wake up and have forgotten all about his imperfections. One day you’ll forgive him for his lovestruck problems and his selfishness.

+

Tooru Oikawa isn’t a bad person, not in his eyes, and not in the eyes of the people who know him. He enjoys his fair share of issues, but at the end of the day— when it comes down to the wire— the brunet is as clever as he is tall and as charming as he can be sweet. He knows it.

Until he catches himself judging yet another fine young lady a bit too harshly in his head, lowering his head in the upteenth courtesy for the night and feeling absolutely nothing. The night is going to waste, and everyone is getting frustrated. He is, his father is, and above all; his mother is. She no longer holds her glass with a raised pinky and a coy smile, instead clamping her fist around the stem of the crystal with all the class and grace of a lumbering woodworker. He’s scared she might hit him over the head with it before the night is over— but alas, he’s far too clever to get fooled by his own lie.

Because though he knows that imperfection is the spice of everything sweet, one can’t help but scrutinize when scrutiny is all you have to go on. He smiles wide and warm when letting the pretty blonde’s hand go to escape the dance, undoing the cotton tie looped around the base of his neck before it chokes him. “Kill me already.” He might be a class act in pretending to enjoy life more than most, but God— are these people dull. All of them raised with golden spoons and delicate praises. Nothing behind the eyes other than a distinct knowledge of the rest of their lives written in glossy ink.

And on paper he is no different. Only son of a familial empire, the heir of a generation. His older sister has long gone and married off to a quiet, kind man and is busy securing the family legacy; so it’s no wonder his mother is getting flushed in the cheeks when no more of the girls invited remain for a first dance. He’s gone through them all, and as always, taken notice of none. It’s not that they’re not pretty, or kind, or -in some cases- have the shape of every girl he’s ever so much as dreamed about.

He just… feels indifferent about spending his life with any of them. And indifference is harder to distinguish between than adoration or disgust. Which just leaves him annoyed at the effort.

It wasn’t this way when his older sibling was of courting age. She had always wanted to get married, even from childhood, the effect of a well meaning mom making her expectations clear. She had accepted her fate with elegance and poise expected of an heir to a great inheritance, and she’d done it all under the guise of love. Tooru on the other hand— he’s many things indeed, and one of them is also indecisive at heart. He wants to think anyone would have a difficult time in choosing the rest of their damn lives. Not that his parents seem to take this into consideration much. Bonds are waiting to be laid and all that.

He stops at the table adjacent to the wall for a clear glass of water to soothe the headache threatening to bloom at his temples, suit too restricting and tight for the night. He’s sick of this theatrical shit. Of pretending to smile genuinely when a young lady flutters her eyelashes in his direction, hoping they’re the one to sweep him off his feet. It’s not exactly custom, but Oikawa can’t help but think that it’ll happen when it happens— and that’s exactly where the problem lies.

A soft huff of acknowledgement is accompanied by the creaky sigh of the table when another body comes to lean against it, and Oikawa doesn’t need to look up from his clasped hands to know that Iwaizumi was basically waiting for an opportunity to have a word. If not the ladies grabbing at his ankles and pulling him around, it’s one of his friends he has to deal with. The thought passes with a quick smirk, but it’s unneeded, and unearned. Of all the people in this room, the one he knows isn’t here to bother him, is Iwa.

He looks up into the crowd first, making eye contact with his mother from across the dim room to watch her sour a little further. People mingle and dance, sure, but there’s no denying. The tension is higher than ever, and only because he’s running out the clock yet again. There will be words after this, that much is clear. He sighs, takes a sip of his cool drink, and waits for his best friend to come with the unasked, sage advice. Unasked, but not unneeded.

“What’re you waiting for?” Iwa asks, dry and to anyone else’s ear, it might come across uncaring. But Tooru knows better.

“Dunno.” He sways the glass in his hand until there’s rings in the water that travel to the edges. “I’m just not feeling it tonight, I think.”

There’s an unconvinced noise, then a silence. “I’m just saying you’d save yourself and everyone in this room a lot of trouble and unearned broken hearts if you went and made a decision. Don’t lead them on, don’t…” Iwa grunts, clearly getting flustered at having to be the voice of reason, but he still pushes through. “Think of anyone other than yourself for once. If you don’t wanna pick, then make that clear to your old woman and get it done with. We’re all tired of this too, you know.”

Iwa doesn’t have to stay. He could walk off like this and leave the words said and sinking, serving a real ‘told ya’ moment in the future. But he doesn’t, and so Oikawa swallows his instinct to snap something back for the sake of it. As per usual… Iwaizumi knows what he’s talking about.

“I’m not trying to, if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not trying to stop her either.” And… correct again. The self-righteous feeling of annoyance that sits under his ribs doesn’t fade as he thinks that over, but it does waver a bit. Definitely when Iwa turns to him, arms crossed tightly over his chest and he mumbles a harsh but needed “get it together”. Then he lands his hand hard onto Oikawa’s shoulder, and the dramatics are out before the brunet can stop them.

“Ow, Iwa-chan.”

He puts the drink down though, slides it over the lacquered table for a few more seconds of break from all the bustle, and hums. “You’re right. Hold down the fort without me for a second.” Iwa’s eyebrows shoot up at the sudden exclamation, but Tooru’s already walking towards the heavy doors for some much needed fresh air.

“Where are you going?!” Iwa hisses after him, but he’s not quite close enough to stop his best friend from making it to the door and slipping out through it with a satisfied grin on his cheeks. Now he’ll definitely have words with the old ones at home. And it’s worth it. The cool, freshness of the air clears out the drowsy feeling of too much wine and dull conversation almost instantly, letting him make it halfway past the courtyard before the door is pulled open after him and what he knows to be Iwa to slip out after. “Shitty-kawa!” the man calls after him, and Tooru gives him a smiley salute before hopping over the stone wall into the alley below.

He lands with a soft ‘uph’, undoes the buttons of his pants and arms, before stretching out to the night sky and beginning to walk. If he knows anything about Iwa, and he knows almost a sad amount too much, it’s that the guy won’t chase. He could, but he doesn’t— a quite ample metaphor for the guy’s stale love life. It makes him smile, but he doesn’t linger on the thought for long. If he’s going to disgrace his parents right in front of their noses with his actions, he might as well enjoy the night out.

The streets here are still clean, quiet save for the stray cat passing through. He doesn’t allow himself to remain within these childhood streets though, or else he might go crawling back with his tail tucked between his legs. Even the one and only Oikawa Tooru is a slave to habit. So he walks, past the cramped alleyways and familiar houses under the same sky he always has. Walks until the birds scare at his presence and he gets to an area he no longer recognizes at the outskirts of the sprawling city. There’s no cleanly spaced lanterns on the walls, no polished stone and aquamarine banners hung above the houses anymore to celebrate name days or inheritances.

There is a growing sound though, people laughing and cheering somewhere in the distance. He can hear it, practically taste the excitement in the air. It’s in that second he also realizes that he’s never come here before for longer than a few brief appearances; and for good reason. But the curiosity is too pressing, taking over his feet before he can really think it over.

Two children push him to the side as he walks down the torch lit alley as they laugh, and he follows the giggles even into the dark. Now this— Iwa would call a bad idea. It probably is, and if anyone were to recognize him this far out of his family’s territory, it could spell some serious issues back home. But as he presses a hand to the cold, gritty plaster of the house and ascends a few stairs, he’s much too far into the den to turn back now. He doesn’t bother covering his face as he comes into the round marketplace, avoiding the people walking past him left and right to find a spot out of the direct eye. 

It doesn’t escape him that the flag hanging limply from the central post isn’t his own. It’s exciting enough being out without anyone at his side for the first time in… what must be a couple years, but the possibility of getting to see his sworn family enemy walking about is even greater a jitter. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and lingers at the edge of the alley, tall enough to look over most people towards the little group that are allowed a bit more space. It’s not hard to spot them, by the fancier dress than just a simple shirt and moccasins. 

But what really gives it away is the purple stones that glint so bright under the flicker of the candle lit square that the shine of them reflects on the walls, stitched onto clothes and woven into metal necklaces, hairpins, sword handles. One taller guy with silver-ish, tan hair, and a shorter girl hiding behind him. You. The older pair of people next to you mingle with others, wide smiles as they engage in frivolous conversation— but you; you’re nosing into the bicep of the man you’re standing next to, long lashes framing bright eyes where they flit around the square and only linger on people’s faces very briefly, before glancing up at the sky instead. You’re a vision, top to bottom dressed up like a blooming flower, the prettiest star in the night sky.

It’s not the beauty that stays with him though. It’s the pouty lip, the frown that makes it’s way onto your face when you’re dragged around and have to cling to the man’s arm with a tightness he can only describe as inseparable by human hands. You’re high society, there’s no doubt of it, with that hair and those clothes and even the easy steps on pointed heels. But you’re childishly brewing up a storm, and that’s what really takes him aback. You’re nothing like what he’s learned a high society young lady to be, even when you shake off the young man’s hand with a pout and playfully slap it away, only for it to quickly be replaced again.

He’s too far away to hear the conversation, too caught up to really pay attention anyway — so it almost passes him by when you come to a halt again for more conversation, repeat the same dance and motion until your eyes meet his. Oikawa freezes. He wasn’t planning on moving, but he finds he can’t so much as breathe while your eyes are on his, though he can feel his eyebrows raising at being caught. And you blink a few times, before tilting your head in confusion. You’re even prettier head on. Pretty brows and a pretty nose and the curve of your lips like delicate flower petals that take over his heart in an instant.

You look away. He finds himself shuffling to the side a little more as you get dragged back into the masses, if only to catch your eyes again; face your curious judgment again. Maybe this is how those poor girls at his own ball feel. Maybe he sees the appeal. “Sorry, s’cuse me.” Like a spark that catches fire to his flammable insides, he follows behind until he bumps up against an older man who refuses to get out of his way quick enough, and you’re gone. Whisked into the whir of all the people that laugh and cheers, as he is left a burnt pile of rubble.

It’s not a challenge. It’s not. And still he’s already convinced that something about you— he has to have it. He moves back to the alleyway from which he came, down the stairs. His jacket is pulled a bit tighter around himself as he trails back down the streets; excitement of a night out long forgotten. Instead your curious gaze stays with him like you’re just out of reach, and the tingles it sends down his spine are almost too good to be true.

+

Your wavering comfort is slipping quickly as you watch him pace around the room, eyes flicking over at you every so often. Your one leg feels a lot heavier than the other as you wait for him to settle down, and hopefully— let you be. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asks, brows pulled tight and handsome face more antagonizing than usual. His arms are crossed over his chest as he comes to a halt a few feet away from you, to watch you where you’re propped up against the bed. You hate it when he gets mad. When he gets mad, he gets mean; and when he gets mean, the waterworks and the endless self-doubt are never far off.

“Of course I do—”

“Then why would you ask me that?” He bites his bottom lip hard, so hard you’re worried he might split it right open if it continues. “Why- Your brother is fine- Your family is fine. I’m the one you should be thinking about,” he sends you a look of total defeat, gritting his teeth. “Don’t do this to us, angel.” Tooru is good when he’s kind. When he wants to be, he’s the most loving person you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting and then some. With all the praise in the world he gives himself to you, a gift offered with open palms that you can only be grateful for. You believe it’s all he could ever give you.

When he’s doing well, he’s your favorite person in the world— as much as you would’ve hated to admit it a few weeks ago. Or months. It’s hard to remember how long it’s really been when you can only look out the window to see the sun crawl through the sky, but never reach.

But when he isn’t… your body is covered in cold goosebumps that have your limbs sore and wooden. You mirror his habit of biting down too hard, and slump into yourself. “I’m sorry, Tooru.” There’s a deep despair where your stomach would normally sit, that seems to needlessly press down on yourself. Your body is tired and cold, and this isn’t helping your anxiety. Before you can really process it, your breathing is short and choppy and there’s tears glazing your eyes as you stare at the expensive floors. “I- I just…” you mumble, shaking a little as you lift a hand to brush under your nose.

Tooru is good to you. Tooru is so good to you when you let him.

“I just wanted to know if Eita was… doing okay.” Your squeezed voice manages to spit the words out, though you don’t really want to. But you know better than to make him wait for an explanation, so when the tears start to wobble along your waterline and blur your vision, you just close your eyes and swallow it down. “I wasn’t trying to be ungrateful.”

You hear the creak of the lacquered planks underneath his feet before his fingers come to your cheek, smoothing along the soft skin to let out a deep sigh. “I know you weren’t, sweet girl. You’re my little angel, hm?” However unfair it feels to lean into his touch, you feel all warm when he steps close enough to let you bury yourself back into his chest, protected from the world. Protected from him— by his own doing. The irony doesn’t escape you; but the chain around your ankle is so heavy. It’s much easier to just melt into his touch.

Tooru’s gentle when he motions to pick you up into his arms, large body not faltering to lift you up against him like the floor might swallow you up with too much touch. Instead you’re forced to hang onto him, cling to his body for support— as you always end up doing. “You miss him?” His lips are soft against your collarbone where he places a few kisses, then makes you pull away enough to kiss your lips. You hum, at least you think you do, before he kisses you harder to shut you up. He’s not really listening anyway; or if he is, it wouldn’t change anything.

You know this just as well as Tooru makes you cling tightly onto his body to crawl onto the mattress and set you down under him, hands roaming along your ass, your thighs, up your sides to slip under your flowy dress. He chuckles when you squeak at his chilly fingers on your skin, but doesn’t apologize. He won’t. You’re used to it by now— and even if he did it wouldn’t make anything easier.

+

You’re not comfortable. And you have no problem showing it as you pace around the entrance and knock at the door again, hissing little curses under your breath. Until the door is pulled open, and a very unimpressed Eita stares you down with narrowed eyes. You don’t wait for your big brother’s permission to step around him into the room as you tie your hair up away from your neck, before plopping down into his extremely luxurious bed. “Oh, come inside, please,” Eita grimaces sarcastically at the place where you stood, waving his hand about with an unenthused motion, closing the door again.

“Don’t leave me alone with these people, niisan,” is the first thing out of your mouth, before he even has a chance to ask. “Don’t leave me alone with these people, please. I don’t want to do it.” You’re knowingly childish and dramatic and you roll onto your back, because it works a little too well on him. You stare at him with the best teary puppy eyes you have -not that they’re really an act- and suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “And besides, mom and dad are giving me no choice in the matter, and you know how I feel about crowded parties.”

Your older brother sighs as he regards you, eyebrows already tilting up in a sort of angled motion that shows his concern clearly on his face, before gripping one of the bed posts and leaning his shoulder into it. “It’s your name day.” The soft draw of his voice and his little smile go back to quiet too fast, and you can’t help but mirror the gesture.

“Don’t wanna have a ball. Just wanna stay in here with you.” You’re splayed out onto his covers when he sits down and hums, brushes a gentle hand along your head that falls still after a few pets. He can’t say anything about it, even if he did have a good solution— and by the expression, you’re guessing he doesn’t. After a few more seconds of extended silence, you shuffle a bit closer to put your head on his thigh as his hand follows. “If I hide myself under your bed before tonight, you can just pretend like you never even saw me- and I’ll be really quiet. The guards won’t check here. Please, niichan?”

Eita chuckles when you pull his soft shirt, amusement at your actions never far off, but eventually the smile wears off for a tighter lipped expression. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay tonight. We have a patrol around the bridge; and dad isn’t going to let me off the hook for just any old reason.” He looks worried, something that upsets you more than you’d like it to. But his doubts always soon turn into your doubts too, and Eita isn’t one to make a big deal out of nothing.

“Problems?” He nods yes.

“Oikawa-san related problems?” He doesn’t nod for that one, but you can read him well enough to know. “Don’t go, niichan, please don’t go. I heard they stabbed one of our guards last time for no reason, who knows what they’ll do if any of them notice you’re there too. What if you get hurt- o-or worse?”

“Relax, okay? Calm. Dad’s not putting me in charge of being on the front lines. I’m there for any possible amiable talks if one of the Oikawa’s does show. The father or the son, either works.” He lets out a deep sigh, rolls his eyes at the mere thought. Eita’s good at being a voice for your family, charming and kind, but self-aware enough not to get trampled all over by other smooth talkers. He’s good at it, even if he doesn’t like it. His hand moves back over your head from your forehead to your crown. “Which means you’ll be in this alone, ‘m sorry.”

Ugh.

Sorry doesn’t help you.

You get painfully restless when you have to deal with it alone. Not nearly as prickly as you like to posture yourself, because at the end of the night, it’s really all you have. Without Eita here— you’re losing your edge quick. 

You want another drink. The allied families have gathered for your name day ball, their sons and daughters and guards sprawling all over the place as you try to make it across the room without being halted. Which you manage, walking with downcast eyes as the chill of the room travels up your spine. You only steal a flute of something strong to nurse on, stomach too tight for anything more, before making your way back towards the dancefloor. Only, you barely make it halfway before you’re tapped on the shoulder passing the back room, and a sigh makes way out of your body before you can think. A strong hand pulls at the edge of your sleeve, stopping you with a soft ‘psst’. You turn to face the sound, only to stumble back a step at the tall man leaning into your space.

“Hello again,” his grin grows wide and wolfish when you don’t respond, before he motions behind him. Into the space hidden from direct view by the mosaic accent wall, not dark enough to cause any worry. “Come out here with me for a second,” he asks, his pretty voice lilting up like a song.

You can’t place his face, but he feels so familiar.

+

You don’t know why you’re remembering this now. Not when Tooru is over you, pushing your knees up to your chest to let his tongue peek out between his teeth and a loud groan bounces around the room. He’s breathing heavily, lazy circles of his thumbs into the soft flesh of your thighs. Your silky nightgown is shoved up on your belly and digs into your shoulders a little, but he soon decides that’s not enough either. One large hand coming onto your belly to pet and paw at the soft, vulnerable skin and moving your clothing aside further. “Tooru,” you mewl, and he hums.

“So fucking pretty. So pretty for me, that’s a good girl.” His strong, lined thighs flex as he pushes up against you, letting your nails run along to skin with a soft sigh. You love hearing him. It’s funny in a way, because how loud and vocal he was about enjoying you was the thing you hated most just a little while ago. Even when he smacked and groaned into your cunt, or bit marks down your neck, or forced his fingers into you with a gleeful chuckle. Now it gives you shivers down your spine, and you’re fighting to even pull them out of him more. Praises, and the way he says your name like a prayer. “My angel, all mine.”

His body is too wide to comfortably fit, so he urges your legs up either side of his shoulders; his pretty, flushed cock twitching up against his belly and the soft trail of hair running down. “Gonna fill you back up, ‘kay? Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re whining without help, pussy drooling and keeping everything a wet, sticky mess. How he likes you most, is like this. Giving fully into his depraved way of hauling you around like a doll. His fingertips are a little coarse when rubbing around the top of your slit, just teasing your entrance enough to have you choked up. “Tooru~ give it to me please. Want to feel your hands on my tits and your cock filling me up. ‘M so cold without you. Please— p-please.” He shudders above you as you whine his name so sweetly, so needy.

“Yeah?” He knows it, you can tell by the way his mouth corners quirk up and his free hand wraps around his cock to give himself a few lazy strokes, before lining up with you. It didn’t used to be true, but everything before Tooru seems so long ago now. So long ago it barely feels real anymore. The rubbing of your clit doesn’t let up, and the tingles spread all through your body. Then he leans into you more, using the pushback of your legs as all the encouragement he needs to slide the head into your tight, little cunt— force your wiggling lower half still as he slips the head in with one smooth motion. “Ahgh, fuck. That’s a good girl. So good.”

You’re shaking, one orgasm in from before and now he’s pushing in, it’s an almost unbearable fit. “Uhn- Tooru, T-tooru, you’re so…” Your mouth drops open as he works more of his thick, heavy cock into you, slick squelching of your body accepting him too loud in the silence. You shiver and pant as he places a hand next to your head to hold himself up over you to kiss you. His muscles flex as he pulls you down onto him more, stretching you out inch by inch until you’re only half aware of the reality around you.

“This is what you wanted,” he sighs, filling you up all the way for an almost painfully tight fit, bottomed out with a soft moan. His hand comes to capture your face, forcing another kiss on your lips. “You asked for this, y’know that?” You can’t really listen well as he’s talking and taking you all the same, pulling his hips back to study your face like you’re really a gift from God— something for him to keep and cherish. His eyes are a little unfocussed as they take in every detail of your expression, fucking back into you.

“Holy— f-fuck, ah-huh, Tooru. Tooru!”

“You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to steal you away.” He’s still talking, leaning in as his rhythm slowly is building and the lewd slapping of skin to skin becomes undeniable. All you know is that one second he’s kissing you, the next he’s spewing filt into your ear, brushing the shell with his plush lips. “You wanted to be fucked full of my cum and bred like a little wife. Say it.” His breath along your sensitive throat. Everything is sensitive as he fucking into you deep and hard, bumping your cervix with the angle.

Your legs tighten around his shoulders as you let him force his cock in and out of your messy hole, slick pooling under your body onto the mattress. “Say it for me. Say ‘I wanted to be Oikawa Tooru’s little wife’. C’mon.” He stops thrusting for a few seconds to brush his thumb along the seam of your lips, forcing your mouth open and your tongue jutting out. On instinct, you moan when he pushes the rough pad of his thumb onto it, spit collecting on the pink muscle. “Oh, you’re such a dream, baby. Drive me fucking wild.”

He does look wild leaning down to kiss you even with his thumb still holding your mouth open, making the motion exceedingly messy. His tongue taking over yours into a sloppy, open mouth kiss with his obnoxious sucking noises driving you totally into a daze. He kisses and licks until you’re out of breath and push at his shoulder softly, before pulling away to watch you gasp as he forces his cock back right against your deepest point. To drive the point home he places his back to cup your stomach and pushes a little to make the fit even tighter, if possible. “Tell me what I wanna hear. Don’t make me get upset.”

“W-wanna—” you interrupt yourself with a long while, thighs shaking around his wide stature with how relentlessly he’s fucking into you now. The loud pap, pap, pap makes you distracted, so you squeeze your eyes closed. “Wanted t’ be Oikawa Tooru’s little wife—uhh.” He grunts, fucks into your slick walls hard enough to bounce you up on the bed. You grab your tits to pinch the pebbled buds between your fingers as he kisses you again, then moaning too.

“Yeah?”

“Yea~” you quickly agree, teary eyes cracking open to watch his perfect lips quirk into a knowing smile.

“Mean it?” You nod again, and he grabs your hips with two hands to piston himself out of your sloppy pussy, making even more wetness run down each time he pulls back. His neck and chest is flushed from the effort, forehead a little glossy. But he still keeps going without break, heavy balls slapping against you as he pounds into your cunt. “Say you’re going to be mine forever.”

“Forever.” You’re crying, and Tooru doesn’t stop. In fact, his grin grows a bit wider as he watches you struggle to place all the emotions you’re feeling right now. His hand is impatient as it brushes over the soft roundness of your growing belly, knowing it to be true. You can’t go anywhere even if you tried. Not with the little pouch under his hand growing a little more each day.

The deeply mangled mix between affection and disgust rears it’s head loud and ugly as he pulls out of you for a bit to watch your hole clench around nothing, forcing so much wetness out of you. You’re glistening by no effort of his own, and he beams in glee. When he leans back to your face you can only stare at the way his pupils are wide enough to take up almost the entire ring of chestnut brown, and he tells you to stick out your tongue.

You do, to let Tooru stick out his own and lick up the length of your sensitive tongue, before sucking on the tip of it until your chin and lips are covered in spit. Then he makes you hold open your mouth for him to spit onto, warm and degrading right onto the middle of your squirming, little tongue. “Swallow it.” You shake your head once, tears rolling down your cheeks as you sniffle, holding out your tongue for his display. But he doesn’t take it, and lines himself back up with your cunt for another ruthless pace, deeper and slower. “You belong to me. Don’t fucking drop any of it.” With a sharp thrust right into your sensitive cunt he pushes your mouth closed and places his hand over your mouth until you do as you’re told.

His spit goes down with your cry of his name, letting him rub your clit until you’re spasming around his heavy girth. Your body can’t take any more. He knows it, feels the way you’re clenching around him to circle the over-stimulated nub and fucks you through a brain-numbing high. Your vision blurs into explosions of black and white as you cum so hard your toes curl and your back lifts off the plush mattress, pulling at the soft, wispy hairs at the base of his skull. And Tooru doesn’t stop until you’re trembling from the touch, until he’s shooting his hot, white load into your pussy.

You drop back exhausted, trembling for Tooru to let you off gently. He doesn’t though, fingers sliding between your legs to force his cum back into your hole with a love-struck expression.

+

“Iwaizumi saaan~” Oikawa whines long and loud, throwing around the food on his plate with all the theatrics of a toddler. It gets on Iwa’s nerves quickly, the dark haired man slamming his fist down hard enough to shock him into silence for a few seconds. Only a few though, before he clicks his tongue. “If I knew you were going to be such a bad sport about it, I wouldn’t have told you.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” his friend glares, tenseness in his brows making him look a couple years older than he is. “You’re still not forgiven for your stunt the other night, and now you tell me — this? Of all the mind-numbingly stupid things you could say…”

“What if it’s real love, Iwa-chan?”

“It’s not.”

You don’t know that. Oikawa doesn’t say it out loud, launching one of the green beans into the grass by his feet. The sun is hot and high in the sky, which means he has about 6 hours to convince Iwa to go with him, or at least to figure out a way to get around his best friend stopping him. He really stabbed himself in the foot by telling.

The thought of your eyes meeting his flashes through his mind, and he picks up the napkin from his lap to place it on the table as he stands. He’s already made up his mind, whether or not Iwa comes.

“The Semi family isn’t to be messed with, Shitty-kawa. If your parents knew- Hell, if anyone else knew- they’d sit you on permanent house arrest. You can’t go back there again.” His friend messes with the tie of his sword that secures it to his waist, and rolls his eyes. “Not for some long lashes and a tight-”

“Iwa,” his voice is low and warning, teeth clenched, “watch your mouth.” The anger that fills him at the insult to even your mere existence is irrational, considering he felt this same way days ago, but— all of that is in the past, isn’t it? Family feuds are silly when it comes to new generations. You made him realize that, in the few days it’s been since he’s had to miss you. Truth is, he can’t get you out of his head. The feeling has taken over him, and he’s not interested in putting a downer on it. Not when it feels so goddamn good.

“I have a plan,” he admits after a second, glancing aside to the other man with a wide grin. “We’d be in and out, that’s all. A quick, friendly visit, if you will.”

+

You know you shouldn’t have asked him. Every time in the past year when Tooru would manage to sneak into your gardens, leaving your own house a few guards weaker all the while, you’re still pretty sure that was mostly the stern guard’s doing. You never asked to confirm, but the way he hovers around the two of you whenever your husband allows you an afternoon in the courtyard or strolling down the street says enough. Iwaizumi isn’t on your side in this, and the roughened knuckles or splatters of blood on his arms are enough to have you keeping quiet on most things.

Unlike the brunet who’s demanding at best, Iwaizumi just seems uninterested. Even when Tooru parades you down the halls of his palace-like home once in a blue moon, there’s no doubt that the quiet footsteps following not too far behind are his. But— you didn’t have any other choice, and as days turn into weeks of not a word spoken about your family; you break the mock peace a little. Just enough to see the light—

Just enough to let Tooru in even deeper, putting his roots firmly into you. It doesn’t surprise you anymore when he takes the entire morning bathing with you, kissing your stomach each chance he gets. The fingers he trails down your spine, the thumb he brushes over your ring. You’re sure that if he could, he’d have made your ring a few sizes too small, so that you could never take it off again. You’re sure he’d make you regret it if you did. But when all of the routine, practiced gestures of love are done; the feeling doesn’t linger.

There’s no more surprise at just how cruel he can be with his ideas— you thought, you said that to him too, one of those nights shattering under painful insecurity and solitude. If only you never asked Iwaizumi about the truth, the traitor wouldn’t have told Oikawa about it. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now, skin a few shades lighter than normal and tearing up as he clamps your arm under his like a real couple. You wouldn’t be forced to stare straight into your brother’s disbelieving eyes as he takes you in with pure betrayal under the guise of “peace talks”.

“I’m sure our families will be able to find common ground.” Tooru’s smiling. You haven’t tore your eyes from Eita’s restless stature from the second you spotted him in this mess; but you know he is. That perfectly composed smile that’d be able to make houses crumple under the pressure. The same picture perfect way of saying every right word that made you fall into his hands. And there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can say. You can only stare in shame at your brother’s defeated expression when he makes a face at the ring on your finger.

Tooru’s gloating feels normal now. The warmth of his body on yours is comforting. It makes you sick. “After all, for our future generations,” his voice is a soft, amused lilt when you shiver slightly under the meanly timed rubbing of your belly, “for our children… holding grudges won’t help, will it?”

“R-Right…” Eita blanks when looking between the two of you for a few times. “So you—”

“We did have to rush our wedding a little, so you have my apologies,” your husband stares straight into the other’s eyes, eyes glittering with his words. “We sent letters, but they might have gotten to you late, I presume.”

“No letters. W-We didn’t get any letters. Or any word as to where you’d gone,” your brother angles that last comment at you, and it takes everything in your power not to reach out and grab his hand; beg you to take you back into the family. For his help.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tooru cuts off your thoughts by petting down your back, soft enough to set your skin on end. “We both really wanted you there.” A little while ago, you would’ve believed his expression genuine. But every part of it is a cruel reminder that if you hadn’t been so damn naïve, maybe things would be different. Maybe you wouldn’t be forced to clamp your fingers a little harder around his just to soothe him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to fight yourself to smile, as your heart is being ripped out by his greedy hands. If you get through this, if you can just make it back home—

The image that flashes through your mind first is your shared bed with Tooru, the heat of his body warming your skin. Your bottom lip wobbles. As you have to face Eita again, his brows angle into a frown, but his eyes are glossy. You didn’t ever get to see your brother cry that much, you suppose. Tooru pulls you closer into him when he notices your drop in mood, softening up just a little. Eita nods, lost for words, his eyes only just settling on yours before he’s turning away. You didn’t get to explain, and you… you probably won’t. It’s been months. There’s nothing more to say that hasn’t been made clear right here.

And Tooru squeezes your hand, before nudging your eyes back to his, laying a sweet kiss on your lips. “You’re the one who wanted us to get along, right? You’re the one who wanted to see how your brother was doing…” He raises an eyebrow, cupping your cheeks to pet the lines of tears away. “Don’t cry, my love. You did so well. Always do so well for me, angel.” Then he kisses you again, a proper one now— and you let him pull you to his body like you’re two lovesick fools. These days… that might not be so far off anymore.

+

It’s not like you to talk to strangers.

But your curiosity is a bit too much to contain. And you know you’ve seen this man before, you just can’t— place where from. Your hands are laced politely behind your back as you stroll side to side for a few steps, the outer porch at peace this late at night. “Tooru?” you try the name out in your mouth as your feet plant steps from the door, knowing full well you shouldn’t run off.

“Yes,” the brunet lifts his shoulders, before stuffing one hand into his pocket. “Just Tooru, I— live not too far down the street from here. My parents are acquainted with yours.” That must be where you’ve seen him from… The way he speaks is easy, a confident smile on his lips as he rocks onto his heels. “That’s Iwa-chan,” he suddenly says then, pointing over his shoulder at the man poised against the far wall with his arms crossed over a wide chest— looking none too pleased.

Still, he throws up a hand in greeting, mumbling a tight “hi.” You return it, curtoseing a bit lower than your dress really allows you.

“So…” you glance back at the one to your side, eyes going a bit bigger as you have to look up at him. “Won’t you come in? It’s pretty cold out here. Besides, I’m not r-really supposed to… sneak off.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Tooru nods, sitting down onto the edge of the railing with a thoughtful pout, glancing between you and the door, “you’re probably a bit too beautiful to leave unattended. If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes from you either.” He says it so easily that heat instantly flies to your ears and cheeks, mouth cracking open for a retort that doesn’t come. “But… it is a bit cruel to keep you locked away in here, isn’t it?”

He smiles wide enough for his eyes to crinkle into charming little moons, his handsome face getting a pink tinge to his nose and cheeks. “Ah, forget that, I’m sure you don’t mind it. I’m not here to start trouble… I didn’t bring you a proper present, angel,” he straightens up, stepping right up to your body, and goosebumps break out over your arms, “sorry.” His face is lit so nicely by the moon, making his delicate features look even nicer framed by dark hair and long lashes. He knows he’s charming- but damn him, is it working.

“Oh, it- it’s really no problem…” you flush with heat when he hums, pursing his pretty lips into a little frown.

“But can I at least offer the birthday girl a dance?”

He holds his large palm out for you, expression soft and weirdly genuine. You can’t help but wonder how this is the very first time you can recall hearing his voice, or his name— since you used to play with all the kids down the street since you were little. But it’s easy to brush off any doubts when you place your hand in his and he lays a soft kiss on it, squeezing a little. His other hand comes to rest on the small of your back, pulling you in close enough to have you swooning. You’re not normally so weak to a bit of flirtation, that’s common in high society anyway.

But something about the way he looks at you, so full of affection and care— it’s endearing. You let him lead you into a dance and hold onto his shoulder with a giggle. He sways you side to side to the soft melody of the piano somewhere in the building with a grin as he breathes a ‘left, right, left- left, right, left’ on beat, laughing with you as it sends you into a fit of giggles. “Stop laughing, I’m trying to be serious here,” he huffs, though it’s not long before he’s back to smiling down at you like you put the stars in the sky.

“Then don’t make me laugh,” you whisper back, voice lowering in volume as he leans into you so close you can make out his individual eyelashes. It’s too close for comfort, and you jerk back to place a respectable distance between your faces.

He notices, and gives a quick grimace. “Sorry. I just- I’ve never…” The reflection of the moon in his pretty brown eyes is enough to keep you hanging onto his every word, “I’ve just never seen anyone like you before.” It’s a landing hit, striking right into your poor, romantic heart. The softness with which he handles you, pats your dress down from the breeze before running a hand through his full head of hair is a little too practiced, a little too polished— but who cares.

“O— Tooru,” Iwa-chan suddenly calls from his spot away, you’d completely forgotten he was even there. His brows are wound tightly together as he places a hand on the handle of his sword. A… sword? You don’t get to linger on the thought before he steps nearer and your heart sinks to your feet. Did they come to— “We have to get going, more guards will come.”

If Tooru notices the way you’ve been spooked, he doesn’t mind it, too busy being love-struck to think through his actions. He clasps your hands between his and tilts your face back to focus on him, smiling wide. “I’ll come see you again, angel.”

“Tooru!”

“Yeah, yeah-” he hisses back, before leaning into his bow and placing a quick kiss on your cheek, as you freeze in place. “Later, pretty girl,” he nods, leaning in for another kiss to the back of your hand before you can pull it away. “I’ll come back for you!” he says it like he means it, winking as his friend slips back into the darkness of the stretched out flower beds. But despite everything he just said, you force yourself back towards the door. And tell yourself this will be the last of your chance encounters.

You’re wrong.

There’s no real buildup. Just the darkness surrounding you and the panicked wheezing of your breath against the cloth tied over your head. You hear steps, and voices, but nothing to prepare you for the soft, familiar sound of his sing-song voice only steps away from you. “Close the door behind you. Oh and Iwa-chan? I owe you.”

“I don’t wanna hear about this ever again,” the other voice sighs, before the click of a door sounds. And though you have the pressing, terrifying realization that you know those voices, it doesn’t really connect. Not as he squats beside you to take your hand in his like he’s done about a dozen times by this point, or not even when the claustrophobic rag is removed and you’re staring at those sweet, brown eyes. You can’t breathe, can’t so much as blink as Tooru brushes his fingers along your cheeks with that sickening kind of kindness. The kind that demands trust, even when people don’t deserve it.

You shiver under his touch, before he takes a deep breath and sits down fully in front of you. “There you are. No need to look so shaken, angel.” There’s a tense silence as you watch him watch you, every fiber of your being screaming in sync. After a few seconds, he cracks a smile after sighing. “A lot happened, so you’ll have to give me a moment to explain, love.”

Your mouth drops open without thought. “Explain? Wh-What are you— where are we? Why am I here? What are you doing, Tooru?!” Tears spring up behind your eyes, as you try to bite through them. “Were you the- the one who— took me?”

“I saved you,” he breathes out, low enough to make your skin itch. His eyes turn ice cold for only a second, before going back to the cheery nonchalance you’ve come to expect these last few weeks. “I saved you,” he repeats, “though I wouldn’t expect you to know that. That doesn’t matter though. You’re safe now, and look…” He motions around the room then, which you take as the first real opportunity to do.

And—

The banner hung right above the bed is painfully familiar, a pretty teal that shines under the sunlight. “We’ve made it home safe.”

“Oikawa…”

“I know, right?” His chuckle is awfully distracting to your already muffled thoughts, only amplified more when he scoots a bit closer so you’re knees to knees. “The chance of us two falling in love is… some kind of curse, I’m sure. You’re lucky I’m no quitter. It definitely wasn’t easy to get into your room from the balcony. But I always manage.” His pretty brown hair falls messily over his forehead as he reaches for your second hand, pushing your bound legs aside a bit.

Brown, floppy hair, long legs, deadly handsome smile on an equally pretty face— something in the back of your mind slowly clicks into place as you remember one summer years ago. How Eita had told you about the world, about the people wanting you gone; and their son, only a few years older than you. “You’re Oikawa Tooru.” Fear keeps you frozen in place when he laughs again, leaning in so he can rest his forehead against yours.

“Ding ding ding. Knew you’d get it.”

He leans in to place a kiss onto your mouth, when you finally gather yourself enough to break out of the trace to shove at him and scoot back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Have you lost your mind?”

He doesn’t even miss a beat, getting up from the floor to reach for you with a concerned look. “Ah, come now. Don’t be so dramatic, angel.” He stops you from trying to untie the rope by your feet by yanking your arms away with a tight grip, and tilts his head. “Stop it, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Your eyes go wide when he calmly forces your arms behind you without too much effort, so much bigger and stronger now that it’s being used against you. You squeak out a desperate ‘help me’, but even as you do, the shaking of your voice overtakes it. No one here is on your side. You know that.

“Your parents were — stop that— going to marry you off. I helped you!” He’s strong enough to even hold your arms in his one hand as you fight against him, as Tooru slots an arm under your thighs to throw you over his shoulder. Your tears taste salty as you cry at your useless struggle, breath knocked out of you when you’re tossed ungracefully on the bed. “I’m going to protect you, angel.” As he tries to get on too, you kick both your feet hard onto his right thigh and he tumbles. “God— ah, damn! That hurt, baby.”

You can’t get anywhere though, trying to dig your nails into the rope without results. It’s not giving in. “If you’re going to hurt me,” he mumbles while grabbing your face, looking more saddened than annoyed, “who knows what might happen to you? I don’t like getting violent, angel.” He takes a short pause to brush some hair out of your eyes, before placing his knees onto your thighs and painfully pinning you in place. “Don’t struggle so much. I’ll make this so easy for you.”

His scent is sweet as ever, as your sniffles are shut up by a soft kiss, before he shushes you with his hands softly moving up and down your shoulders. “All you have to do,” a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “-it’s simple-”, a kiss under your jaw, “all I need you to do is let it happen.” A kiss on your sensitive throat, as you try to close your eyes against the pools of tears rolling thickly out of your eyes. “It’s so, so easy, angel. Just let me.” Large, warm hands travel along your thighs over your dress, before slipping the silk upwards.

“You don’t want to marry some brat you barely know. I know you don’t.” He shakes his head side to side once against the skin of your neck, his breathing brushing down your cleavage, before clicking his tongue with a decisive word. “No. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Tooru,” is the pathetic one word you manage to squeak out, grabbing at his shoulders with shaky hands. You’re tired. You’re awfully cold too. And as he noses down the valley of your tits over your flimsy dress, shivers make their way up your spine. He lets one hand move back to your legs to slip his long fingers in between, petting your sensitive pussy over your panties. “Please, I don’t— c-can’t-”

“I know, angel. I know it’s a little fast; trust me— if it were up to me I’d take it more slowly too.” He pulls the front of the dress until your nipple is exposed, before pressing a kiss to the place where your heart is pounding like a hummingbird in your chest. Then he licks over the pebbled nub, sucking in into his mouth with a soft hum.

“Uhuh, so pretty for me. That’s a good girl.” He pushes your legs apart until he can fit in between them, and yanks the last bit of coverage you have aside, not allowing you to cover yourself with your hands. “Just relax. Just have to- ah- make sure,” he rubs a thumb over your pussy as you throw your head back, burying your tear-ridden face in your arms, “you can’t run. Put up with it for me, angel.”

He’s impatient as he spits onto your pussy, rubbing it over your hole with an entranced look, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. His fingers making sure that despite the crying, your body can’t help but accept the pleasure. It feels different when Tooru’s doing it.

“Let me give you a little Oikawa of your own, hm? You’ll get used to it for me. I know you can.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2022. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

#oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.dubcon #tw.baby trapping #tw.noncon #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.oikawa

[hueningshaped]

★ YEONJUN as your boyfriend…

▰ word count: 1.8k

a/n: this is very messy & random but :D i hope you don’t hate it ! / these will automatically be idolverse (at least i think) + i intend on writing for ot5 but give me some time & u shall see <3 pls lmk ur thoughts abt this !!

* he’s such a loving guy, so much love to give and he honestly gives love through all the love languages in some way or another

* he’s such a loving guy, so much love to give and he honestly gives love through all the love languages in some way or another

* he’s such a loving guy, so much love to give and he honestly gives love through all the love languages in some way or another

* so when he realizes you reciprocate love for him in the way he never realized he’d always wanted to be loved, homie is lovestruck !!!!

* you look out for him all the time and you pick up on things he himself doesn’t notice sometimes and you take care of him too and it’s making him go bonkers because sweet heavens he appreciates it infinitely

* for example, he’ll come home exhausted after practice and he messages you or calls you as soon as he’s off

* the idea that he loves to constantly be in contact with you and is great at communicating makes u </3 but anyway

* he’s still on the phone with u as he comes over to see you (bc that’s what u both decided on and he was also feeling hungry and he loves eating late at night with you idk)

* he loves his ramen but he also loves making it together when it’s just u two in the kitchen and you’re talking in hushed voices and you’ll shush each other and giggle and when u guys do eat it’s dead silent bc you’re both set on eating it up

* moving on

* he walks in and is taking off his shoes when he sees you THEN hangs up the phone call with you

* “i ordered some takeout so we can eat with the ramen, junnie—let’s eat up!”

* he literally goes 🥺

* but he’s funny and dramatic so he has to do something with his lip to make it look like he’s sobbing screaming weeping etc

* you’re about to hug him and he goes uh uh uhhh

* “im stinky and sticky, baby :(“

* so you tell him “fine go shower” and of courseeee in response he goes “wow you’re not even going to argue or insist u gave up so easily woww clearly you don’t want my hug”

* GET OUTTTTRR

* of course he takes his shower and afterwards you share a little kiss or two (hundred) and make ur ramen and eat like the richhhhh

* once you’re both done and just scrolling through tiktok and god knows what else he holds your hand and intertwines your fingers and you think for the 18748283818th time that day “im the luckiest person ever”

* in this life ur allowed the luxury of not only being with yj but u get a house/living space and it’s yoursssss anyway #slay

* when u get ready for bed yeonjun just flops on the bed taking his spot

* he already knows the drill

* you turn everything off except for your aroma diffuser light and the tv bc jun mumbles “wait…i wanna watch a movie”

* you toss a blanket over his long body and get underneath your own covers all for him to just cuddle against you

* you give him little massages from what you can reach on his back and arms since you’re basically holding him and he sighs and gives a little peck to where his face meets your skin

* they start becoming wet kisses and you’re laughing bc it’s ticklish and squirming

* the plush of his lips sends vibrations from where he murmurs how much he loves you

* he settles eventually but he’s still rambling and you listen fondly

* you could listen to him talk for hours and hours and forever and ever

* his voice is the greatest thing to bless your ears and you can’t help but smile to yourself with anything he says (now)

* he proclaims his love for u incessantly even though u feel like you’re the one who’s the luckiest and you don’t do much

* when it comes to leaving before work, you might throw in a little note just so that he will literally never not be reminded of ur love for him or one of yours and his favorite snacks and when he finds it at work he makes the biggest deal about it to the point that taehyun has to step up and be like “can you calm down, you do this everyday”

* on days where u get to go to work with him at shows and stuff, u bring a little pillow and a light blanket and wear ur comfiest clothes bc 1) sometimes u help the staff who helps ur bf and the band 2) sometimes ur really just a bed for him to lie on

* the staff treats u nicely with pleasure also bc they love yj and the txties to death

* when it comes to laying down, he loves being ur little spoon, even if he might be much larger than you

* he loves when being held from time to time bc if one could describe his love, the word ‘grand’ could be used — he always gives physical affection always does big gestures of his feelings always communicating always putting himself out there

* yeonjun loves being held though, he loves being shown that he’s loved by you

* like yes he will wrap his arms around you and or pull you in for a hug randomly but god does he basically go up to heaven when you do the same for him !!!!

* cup his face with your hands and he’s done for….

* when things get rough whether you’re there at his work with him or at home, you’re his safe place

* he or one of the guys usually give you a heads up through text but if not, it’s not hard for you to see the reality

* if a show went wrong or someone said something that really got under his skin, he would have to wait a very long time to blow off some steam but once he sees you or hears you that stifled burning hot steam dissipates, fading from the forefront and he’s laughing again bc you’re the funniest person to him just smiling so wide (at the end of the day though he’ll just whisper to you how he felt earlier)

* sometimes he might get very frustrated from either the workload, particular hate comments, or something that offended him or his boys that they can’t address and as strong as he and they are, sometimes he’ll just need to collapse on top of you and you just wrap him up in a bundle and he has his face buried in your neck and usually you’ll feel the wetness of his tears or feel the shudder of a cry wracking his body, you’ve learned to calm him down by massaging his neck and his back muscles all along patterns that his heart winds down to mimic

* you reassure him and listen to him and help him let go of all he’s been holding in and after a while he doesn’t feel as grouchy and sad and he feels even better bc you also ordered him some warm food and ran him a bath

* he babies you all the time so you enjoy babying him in return

* and when it comes to arguments 🥺

* sometimes if there’s a misunderstanding or disagreement (which are usually pretty rare or small), but on the occasion of them being a bit bigger - in which it may affect half to the entire day or the vernal argument itself lasts a bit of time, there is one thing that yeonjun will always do without fail

* on nights like this when you both were unable to actually meet up with the other to get through this little rough conversation until evening and the day has worn down both you and him and you’re still trying to talk through - volume interchanging but never reaching scream levels

* you’re tired and snappy and getting frustrated and he remains persistent in trying to find a place within the argument where you can both compromise (or even just him, he just wants to go to bed with you in his arms on a positive note)

* but when he brings both his hands together like he’s going to pray, he knows that you know that it’s gonna end right there

* you quiet down and let him walk to you, bringing those hands forward to gently reach out to your own

* “wait yn, please,” he sounds exhausted and despite the argument you find yourself touched that he’s still firm in his conscious to never ever take his exhaustion or frustrations out on you

* it’s a brief realization

* “i know you’re not done and i didn’t mean to interrupt you but just please — i just need to hear you say it”

* “say what” it’s genuine, lacking any fire from earlier, even if you both know what he wants

* “please yn please don’t forget that i love you, and please tell me you love me”

* he squeezes your hands a little and it makes you release a sigh in response

* yeonjun just looks into your eyes desperately and how could anyone resist the biggest sweetheart in this universe

* you let his hands go to cup his face with your palms, thumbs brushing against his cheekbones

* “i know you love me, just the way i love you yeonjun” you tell him with a smile and it makes him smile like it’s the last thing he needed to hear before poetic death — he makes relief look that beautiful

* you apologize and he does too, refuting yours, though it’s not particularly for the main core of the argument, it’s about everything else

* you usually take the next day to mend and effectively settle the argument

* he will never not show his love for you — he always has you in his arms and wants you to always be up front with him as he is with you and he would literally do anything for you

* you make him laugh and you do so much for him that he gets emotional sometimes when he talks about you and his mom loves you so much that he likes to plan trips to meet his family and he wants to meet yours

* very much a ‘happy together, together forever’ kind of person :3

#im positively I’ll #down bad #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt reactions #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines