#also quick note to everyone that leaves comments in the tags or replies to my posts I read it all and you make me so extraordinarily happy

[hiekka]

fuck everything else i just drew him with semi-consistent features also this is the immediate aftermath of the last sketch i posted

[irisintheafterglow]

like we’re made of starlight (timeskip!iwa x you)

summary: on the night of your birthday, you accompany hajime to the olympic team's new year's celebration, meeting the players and receiving a small surprise.

wc: 1.78k

cw/tags: swearing, alcohol and drinking, established relationship, crack and fluff and atsumu being dumb, one (1) down bad iwaizumi hajime, implied fem!reader but they/them pronouns used

note: this is dedicated to the #1 iwa lover @shotorus <3 i hope you have a spectacular birthday and enjoy this little thing for you and your man :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated !

“You know, if I’d known they planned this whole shabang on your birthday, I would have asked them to reschedule.” He squints skeptically at the colorful strobe lights shining outside of the club, one of the most prestigious in the city and the venue for the Olympic team’s belated New Year celebration. You could only imagine how loud the inside of the club would be, especially since it already seemed overwhelming outside and you weren’t even in the building yet. “I promise I’ll make it up to you this weekend, something a little…quieter.” 

“It’s okay, really,” you reassure him, setting a comforting hand on his thigh as he continues to bounce his leg in the driver’s seat. You run your thumb over the expensive fabric of his dress pants and he visibly relaxes, releasing a deep exhale and giving you an apologetic smile. The line for the valet was long and your boyfriend had politely declined your suggestion for him to hop out while you get the car situated. “I’m here for you and to meet the guys.” 

“That’s also something I’m a little anxious about,” he admits.

“How so?”

“They can get a little wild at these kinds of celebrations.”

“Well, we can bail whenever we want, right?” He nods, still a little unsure. “So, if the vibe is off or people start getting a little too wild, we leave and eat soup on the couch with a movie on.” The last comment about lounging around finally makes him smile and you lean over to press a light kiss on the side of his face, taking note of the way his ears become a little pinker even in the darkness of his car. A few minutes later, Hajime helps you step out of the car, tug on your coat and leads you to the entrance of the club, bypassing the extensive line with a tilt of his head to the bouncer. 

“This place was 100% Bokuto’s idea,” he mutters when you both step inside. “It’s like we’re at a frat party again.” A club employee escorts you up the stairs to a private, second floor balcony that overlooks the dance floor. “All the lights and music and drunk people is very reminiscent of that one during–”

“During junior year, second semester. The one I dragged you out of your dorm for because my roommates flaked out and I didn’t know anyone else to go with,” you grin, looking down at him over your shoulder as you climb the stairs. He’s quick to close any remaining space between you two once you reach the landing, snaking a protective arm around your shoulders while the employee gestures for you to join the rest of Hajime’s coworkers. “Except this time, everyone’s of age to drink.”

“In theory,” he murmurs. “I still think Hinata’s younger than he says he is.” You stifle a snort into your fist and catch him smirking before you’re bombarded by several suit-clad athletes with varying levels of alcohol intoxication. “Watch out for Atsumu. He spit-talks when he’s drunk.”

“Our beloved trainer has arrived!” On cue, the more chaotic Miya twin appears in front of you with one arm slung around his Jackal teammate, a buzzed-looking Bokuto, and followed closely by Hinata and Sakusa. “What took you so long?”

“I couldn’t find my good cufflinks,” he shrugs, revealing the silver volleyballs hiding on the inside of his wrists, the ones you got him on his first anniversary of working as a trainer. “Thought they were appropriate for the occasion.” You smile, watching your boyfriend act as cool and casual as ever, even in the face of his very enthusiastic colleagues. “I, uh, have someone for you all to meet,” he says, glancing at you with a questioning glint in his eye. Are you ready? You nod, taking a deep breath as he introduces you as his partner. 

“Like, in business?” Atsumu asks with such a genuine expression that makes you giggle. Behind him, you can see Sakusa slap an exasperated palm against his forehead. “You have a secret side hustle?” You bite your lip to keep from laughing too hard and look up to find your boyfriend with a similar expression. 

“No, dude,” Bokuto says slowly. “He means like, romantically. Like, a life partner.” Atsumu’s eyes widened to the size of car tires. “A partner for life, you know?” 

“Holy shit, you’re married?” You catch Sakusa mouth oh my god under his breath before he walks away from his dumbfounded teammate. Hinata is quick to steer both of his friends to a table before they fall over and rejoins the conversation as Hajime introduces you to the more collected players of the group. 

You shake hands with the stoic skyscraper that is Ushijima as well as receive a warm hug from Komori. Both note how great it was to finally meet you in person after your boyfriend seemed to never stop talking about you, before the man in question hurriedly introduces you to another player. Suna and Sakusa are quietly polite but open up more once you ask them about how training is going for the next Olympic games. While you chat with them, Hajime pulls over Aran and Yaku, introducing you as his partner with poorly hidden pride. Once they’ve assimilated into your conversation, he disappears into the herds of players and staff again to no doubt drag out another coworker.

“Forgive him for coming and going so much,” Yaku says apologetically. “I think he’s been waiting to show you off for a long time, even if he won’t admit it.”

“He’s really excited for people to meet me, huh?”

“I’ve never seen him this hyper and I’ve been drunk at a karaoke bar with him,” a new voice says who introduces himself as Kuroo, a tall guy with spiky hair that you remember Hajime arguing with over the phone several times. “Our offices are right next to each other and I like to play pranks every so often,” he explains when you ask him about why your boyfriend yells at him so much.

“Technically, it’s his fault for being out of the office so often,” Suna reasons. “And I only say that because I’m one of the accomplices to the office pranks. We all are.”

“I bought the wrapping paper for the one on his car,” Aran adds. “Yaku pitched in for the Post It notes on April Fools day, but we don’t let Atsumu in on the pranks anymore ‘cause he talks too much.” Your mouth gapes in disbelief, unable to imagine the organized, well put-together machine that is your boyfriend getting pranked so easily. 

“It’s only because we love him as a trainer, though.” Yaku is backed up by nods of agreement from the rest of his team. “He really loves his job; I think the only thing he loves more than volleyball is–”

“You, obviously.” Hajime returns from fishing out people to introduce to you, easily finding his place by your side. “They tell you about how much they fuck up my office?” The perpetrators’ voices overlap each other in protest, arguing that he’s the one who keeps leaving his door unlocked. “Yeah, yeah. Just you wait until I get this one in on pranks against you guys.” He tilts his head towards you and is met with friendly taunts of competition, saying that you’re too nice to prank them or that they’d never fall for any of his pranks. His head dips to whisper in your ear while the team is preoccupied with debating what song to request from the DJ to create one big Olympic flashmob. “Mind if I steal you away, real quick?”

“Of course. But be fast; you need to be back in time for the big dance number,” you tease and he rolls his eyes with an amused smile, lacing his fingers in yours and pulling you down a back hallway of the club. The black walls reflect the moody shades of pink, orange, and blue shining from the lights above and you find that the music isn’t as loud in the little corner he finds for you two. When you’re ready, he pulls out a small box tied with a ribbon from his pocket.

“Wanted to give you this on your actual birthday but didn’t want Atsumu’s big mouth to ruin it out there,” he says and you chuckle, carefully taking the box from his fingers and unwrapping the bow. You pull off the lid and find a delicately silver chain threaded through a pendant indented to resemble a volleyball; flipping it over and admiring it in the light, you discover a stamped “H” on the back that only appears when the light hits it just right. 

“Hajime, this is beautiful,” you breathe. 

“You like it?”

“I love it.” You remove the necklace from the box, but before you can fasten it around your neck, he stops you. 

“May I?”

“You are a hopeless romantic,” you grin. 

“Only for you.” His fingers brushing your neck send goosebumps over your skin and he carefully secures the chain at the back. 

“How do I look?” You turn to face him and see his pupils blown wide open, licking his lips and blinking to maintain his restraint. 

“Like you’re mine,” he rasps and he closes the remaining distance between your bodies, letting your back hit the wall and tilting your chin up with two fingers to kiss you. Your fingers comb through his hair and he groans into your mouth when you tug on it experimentally. His hands firmly grip your waist while he kisses you infuriatingly slowly, like he was savoring this private moment without the prying eyes of his teammates. He pulls away to breathe but doesn’t go far, nudging his nose against yours. “The guys didn’t say anything dumb to you, did they?”

“No, but they did let me know how much you talk about me,” you whisper and he rolls his eyes again, your eyelashes brushing his face when he leans in close again. “And how much your dumbass gets pranked.” 

“In my defense–” You cut him off with an uncontrollable fit of laughter, one that he joins into with a tired shake of his head. “You know what? I don’t have a defense. Happy birthday, my love.” He presses a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead. “Every day I think about what I did to deserve someone like you.”

“You existed and I found you,” you say simply. “That’s just how it works and now you’re stuck with me and all my future birthdays.”

“You say that like I’m not ready to grow old with you in any lifetime.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[wroteitbutneverwatchedit]

Could we work? Pt.12

»»————- 🪢 ————-««

Pairing: Billy Hargrove × F!reader

Summary: When billy rolls into town and all the girls are talling at his feet...... Why won't she?

Warning: Cussing, Sexual innuendo, sexual comments, harassment, billy being well billy.

A/n: I will be posting a part two to this, I really like this fic and please let me know if you guys like it.

Please like, share, reblog, and/or comment. Also want to try taking request so please feel free to message me a request idea, will let you know about the stuff I don't write. But please enjoy. ALSO THIS IS NOT NO FREE USE YOU CANNOT PLAGIARIZE OR REPOST MY WORK ON THIRD PARTY SITES

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3| Pt.4 | Pt.5 | Pt.6| Pt.7| Pt.8| Pt.9| Pt.10 | Pt.11

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The date with Billy went well after I explained that I was not some damsel in distress; he convinced me not to leave early and took me out to get some real food. It went so well that I even gave him a small kiss on the cheek after he took me home, maybe a lot less than what he was used to getting, but he seemed okay with it. There were no problems until I sat across from him at lunch today and could see at some angles the bruise on his ribs; he didn’t say anything about it, so I didn’t push him. As usual, I gave him half of my food, and we quietly ate until Steve came over to my table.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Billy?” Steve interrogated; Billy didn’t seem in the Mood for Steve, so he didn’t answer. Steve sat down next to me and passed me a note. ‘We’re having a movie night with the kids. Do you want to join?’ Read the message, and I replied to him with a sure also asking if Billy could Join. Though they may not like each other, if They could actually have a proper conversation, maybe they could be good friends. 

“Nope, not allowed; they’ll ruin it for everyone” Steve responded out loud. I sighed and wrote that I would not attend as Billy had asked to watch a movie with me tonight. Steve scoffed and laughed, which caught Billy’s attention.

“Really, you’re going to miss movie night for Him?” Steve questioned further; I looked at him, now annoyed, and shrugged my shoulders. I returned the paper and wrote, ‘Don’t be an asshole, he’s not even mean. Billy’s a nice person once you get to know him. He’s not going to ruin anything.’ I then went back to eating my lunch.

“But she’s going to be there, and I don’t want to make her all tense with what’s already going for her” Steve elaborated. I nodded and sighed. I wrote to him that I’ll join them next time. He looked slightly disappointed but nodded and left the table. Billy raised an eyebrow, and I just shook my head. I cleaned up my trash and went to my locker; Billy followed suit and did the same. 

“So, what movie do you want to watch?” Billy asked me. I thought for a second before I leaned into him.

“Pretty in Pink” I whispered in his ear; he had flinched when I leaned into him but relaxed when I spoke. I opened my locker and took out some supplies. I handed them to Billy, and he didn’t protest. After I finished passing him all of my stuff, I fixed his shirt, and he started to get a little defensive; I leaned closer to his chest and gave his bruise visible to me a small kiss. 

“Kisses are supposed to make the pain disappear" I said softly; he bit his lip nervously, and I smiled at him. I started walking toward my class, and Billy followed; he put my stuff down on my desk, and I gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“I’ll see you after class, sweetness” He assured

••••••••••••••••••••

Tag List:

@megmcc2003

@stranger-kinkslol

@wittleespur

@scoopsahoyspidey

@destielshipper88

@giovanna3

@marvel-st-sw-tbp

[angelasscribbles]

Dialogue Discussion Summary

Thanks once again to everyone who showed up. It was another great discussion! Sorry the notes took a minute this time. Life side tracked me.

Dialogue tag: Dialogue tags are phrases that are used to break up, precede or follow written dialogue to convey which character is speaking, making it easier for the reader to follow the conversation. The most common dialogue tag is the word 'said.

Action beat: Action beats show what a character is doing before, during, or after their dialogue. These can be gestures, movements, or facial expressions. 

The “Said” controversy: Always/only use said. Never use said. Use a variety of descriptors instead of said: exclaimed, confirmed, agreed, pronounced, announced, commented, explained, replied, stated, whispered, rambled, chimed, bemoaned, scolded, etc.

Notes:

Don’t overuse adverbs when a verb would be better, let your dialogue tags or action beats speak for you.

Okay: “Fuck this,” he said irritably. Better: “Fuck this,” he grumbled/snapped/growled. Action Beat: “Fuck this,” he slammed the book down onto the table.

Any of those convey that he is irritable. Personally, I prefer action beats whenever possible.

From The Write Life:

Dialogue tags are handy and quick, but action beats can add much more detail and meaning to a conversation. When you’re using them, keep in mind:

They don’t necessarily have to involve actions! An “action beat” might be a thought or description instead.

An action beat can often convey the way in which a line of dialogue is spoken: For instance, if a character slams his fists on a desk before saying, “Get out of my office,” you won’t need to tell the reader he’s angry!

Even if the action beat doesn’t add a great deal of meaning, it may be a useful way to create a pause in dialogue — changing the rhythm of it subtly. It can also “ground” the reader in the scene (without any action beats at all, the characters can feel like disembodied talking heads).

Dialogue Tag vs. Action Beat

Action beats let you SHOW INSTEAD OF TELL!!!

Surprise:

Dialogue tag: “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” she yelped in surprise. Action beat: Her fork clattered onto her plate as she dropped it, “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Thinking:

Dialogue Tag: “Hm,” he said thoughtfully, “I’m not sure that’s the best course of action.” Action Beat: “Hm,” He peered at me over the rim of his glass for a long moment. “I’m not sure that’s the best course of action.”

Here is an excellent example.

Where do they go? When a character speaks, their dialogue should be on the same line as their dialogue tag or action beat. When a different character speaks, start a new line. (It's also often helpful to start a new line if they act or react — e.g. if they shake their head, even if they don't actually speak.)

Incorrect: “Hey Sarah, catch!” Sarah caught the ball and gave him a smirk, “Wow, great catch!” Correct: “Hey, Sarah, catch!” Bruce sent the football spiraling across the clearing. Sarah caught the ball and gave him a smirk. “Wow, great catch!”

The first instance makes it look like Sarah is the one speaking when it's actually Bruce.

Incorrect: She walked into the room to find him standing there, watching her. “What are you doing?” Correct: She walked into the room to find him standing there, watching her. “What are you doing?” he asked.

See how the first can leave the reader confused about who is speaking?

Incorrect: “I’m happy you made it.” She gave him a smile. “Was it hard to get away?” Correct: “I’m happy you made it.” She gave him a smile. “Was it hard to get away?” Add a dialogue tag or action beat: (so it’s very clear who is speaking) “I’m happy you made it.” She gave him a smile. “Was it hard to get away?” He handed her a drink.

One more example:

Incorrect: I wasn’t sure if he was going to show up. “There you are!” I looked up at the sound of his voice. Correct: I wasn’t sure if he was going to show up. “There you are!” I looked up at the sound of his voice. With Dialogue tags: I wasn’t sure if he was going to show up. “There you are!” He called out. I looked up at the sound of his voice. With Action beats: I tapped my finger against my lip. Was he even going to show up? “There you are!” A voice called out. I looked up to watch him jog across the room in my direction, my heart dancing in my chest.

When do you need them?

If you have more than two characters in a conversation you must use dialogue or action tags to avoid confusion. If you have only two, you can get away without them, especially if their tone is distinct. Start with one so the reader knows who is talking.

Frank handed her a cookie, “It’s hot, be careful!”

“Oh, thanks!”

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you have any milk?”

“In the fridge, help yourself.”

Change where you put your tags/beats to avoid monotony. (before, in the middle, at the end):

Sara considered his offer for about two seconds. “No, absolutely not!”

“Have you actually thought this through?” Marco shook his head. She was being intransigent.

“Thoroughly,” Sara crossed the room and peered out the window, “Now get ready, they’ll be here any moment!”

Special thanks to @karahalloway who took the time to put the following together for us:

Punctuating Dialogue

DIALOGUE TAGS AND HOW TO USE THEM – dialogue tags are the verbs that you include around your dialogue text to indicate who is speaking and how. There are a few different ways you can achieve this:

Before the dialogue – normally the dialogue tag is enhanced by an action tag because you want to emphasize the character’s mood or reaction:

Her face paled as she whispered, “This cannot be…”

He casually picked up the newspaper as he scoffed, “Don’t kid yourself, Joseph.”

Punctuation rule: Where the dialogue tag immediately precedes the dialogue, separate the tag from the dialogue with a comma.

After the dialogue – can be standalone, or include an action or a reaction:

“You cannot be serious,” she derided, rolling her eyes.

“Freeze!” he yelled.

Punctuation rule: Where the dialogue tag immediately follows the dialogue, separate the tag from the dialogue with a comma, and keep the subject lowercase (unless you are using the person’s name or official title, in which case you would capitalise e.g. Markus, President Carter, King Leopold, Duke Warrington, Lady de Winter, etc.).

In the middle of the dialogue – this is where things get interesting because there are a couple of different ways you can drop dialogue tags into the middle of the dialogue:

Option 1 – Complete sentence

“Ah! I see you have arrived!” he exclaimed, opening the door wider. “Please! Do come in!”

"Let me guess..." I sigh, picking up the tumbler to tip the rest of my drink back. "This was your bright idea?"

Punctuation rule: In the above examples, the dialogue is interspaced by a dialogue tag and some actions on the part of the character. Since the first part of the dialogue is a complete sentence/thought (i.e. it can stand by itself), you indicate this to the reader by putting a full stop at the end of the dialogue tag / action sequence. Then, you pick up the second half of the dialogue as a new sentence.

Option 2 – Interrupted sentence

“First of all,” she interjected, raising a finger in the air, “that is wildly inaccurate. I was nowhere near the building when it blew up!”

“Now,” he declared, opening up the massive tome in front of him, “if I recall correctly, we were just about to start on Chapter 89.”

Punctuation rule: Like in the first set of examples, the dialogue is interspaced by a dialogue tag and some actions on the part of the character. However, the difference here is that the first part of the dialogue is not a complete sentence – it is merely a ‘teaser’ or an ‘intro’ of what is to come, and the ‘meat’ of the dialogue comes after the dialogue/action tag. In this case, to indicate that the first half of the dialogue is only part of the story, you end the dialogue/action tag with a comma, and then pick up the rest of the dialogue in lower case. This is a great tool to use if you want to build suspense for the reader.

ACTION TAGS AND HOW TO USE THEM – action tags are the verbs that you include around your dialogue text to indicate how someone is speaking or reacting. It is possible to use action tags in conjunction with dialogue tags to add depth to the character’s reactions, but you can also achieve a surprising amount with just action tags. Here are a few examples of the latter:

Before the dialogue – especially where someone has an emotionally charged reaction (shock, anger, etc.) you can create suspense for the reader by placing the action tag before the dialogue:

His brows furrowed. “This is doesn’t make any sense…”

She gasped in sudden realisation. “Oh, my God! You are absolutely right!”

Punctuation rule: Where the action tag is not followed by a dialogue tag (s/he said, etc.) you end the action tag with a full stop to indicate that the action took place before the person started speaking.

After the dialogue:

“No.” He crossed his arms, indicating the finality of his decision.

“I give up!” Throwing his hands up in the air, he stomped out of the room in a huff.

Punctuation rule: Where the action tag is not preceded by any dialogue tags, you end the dialogue with a full stop (to indicate the end of the dialogue), and the start the action sequence as a new sentence, also ending in a full stop.

In the middle of the dialogue:

“What?” His mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Where on earth did you get that idea from?”

“Like hell!” Pulling her sword from its scabbard, she spurred her horse forward. “We’ll kill them all, or die trying!”

Punctuation rule: In the above examples, the dialogue is interspaced by a standalone action tag. Since there is no dialogue tag preceding the action sequence, the first half of your dialogue will always end in a full stop (as will your action tag), and you will pick up the rest of the dialogue as a new sentence after the conclusion of the action sequence.

DIALOGUE AND PUNCTUATION FUN

There is a lot of fun you can have with dialogue, and it’s a great way to build suspense if you use punctuation creatively. For instance,

You can use a dash (i.e. —) to indicate an interruption of dialogue (e.g. “Yeah, but I d—"), while you can use ellipses (i.e. …) to indicate trailing off or uncertainty (e.g. “Yeah, but I don’t know for sure…”

You can use italics (i.e. “What!”) to indicate emphasis

You can combine exclamation and questions marks to indicate anger or disbelief (e.g. “Did you hear me?!”)

You can use ALL CAPS to indicate shouting/anger/distress (e.g. “HELP ME!!”)

Or any combination of the above.

Here is an example of how it all fits together:

"No."

I swear I hear the sound of Bertrand bursting a blood vessel. "I beg your pardon?"

I set my jaw determinedly. "First of all, I am not hiding. I switched rooms because someone — whether intentionally, or not — assigned me to the same room as last time, and there was no way in hell that I was going to sleep in the bed that I got attacked in."

I give him a moment to let that sink in.

"Oh. I-I see..." The consternation in his voice is palpable. "Erm... Yes. Of course... How crass of me... I—"

"Second," I continue, leaning into Drake as he bends down to drop a good-bye kiss into my hair, "you better have a damned good reason for waking me up before the crack of dawn—"

"It is hardly—"

"—especially since you told me in the car yesterday that today's event doesn't start until mid-morning, and we'd agreed that the way-too-early-o'clock wake up calls would stop."

A few other punctuation pointers:

There is no hard and fast rule about whether dialogue should be indicated with single quotes (i.e. ‘Hello’) or double quotes (i.e. “Hello”). American authors/publishers tend to prefer single quotes while British/Commonwealth authors/publishers tend to prefer double quotes, but ultimately it’s down to artistic choice

Dialogue punctuation should always be placed inside the quotation marks

Any time a new person speaks or performs an action, you need to start a new paragraph to make it clear to the reader that we’ve changed speaker

DIALOGUE IN FOREIGN LANGUAGES - there may be times in your writing where you decide to incorporate one or multiple foreign languages into your characters’ dialogue. This is usually done to assist with characterisation (some characters may speak a different language from the rest of the characters and you want to emphasise this in the interactions; there may be certain cases where characters use foreign phrases, even if only in passing; or you want to use a foreign phrase as a segway to indicate that some conversation is about to take place in a different language).

There are a multitude of ways in which foreign languages can be conveyed in your write:

All-In - you can go full out and write entire conversations in a foreign language. While this is great for character and world building purposes, it is certainly an undertaking if you are not a native (or at least, a very competent speaker of the foreign language), so be prepared to spend lots of time researching or talking with a beta reader who is a native speaker:

"Vous voyez l'appât?" he demands without preamble.

I steel myself. "Non. Je—"

A low growl of frustration. "Putain de merde..."

"Attendez," I interject, forcing myself to stay calm, even though my gut had already twisted itself tighter than barbed wire. "Que s'est-il passé?"

"Nous ne savons pas," he grits. "Une minute, nous avions une ligne de visée sur lui, mais la suivante, il a plus simplament disparu."

I frown. "Comment ça, 'disparu'?"

However, in this case, you will need to be conscious of the fact that your readers will most likely not be familiar with the foreign language, and will not actually understand what your characters are saying. So, you may need to think about ways to ‘translate’ for your readers:

In-dialogue translation - one character translates for the other character(s) in the context of the interaction what is being said

In-dialogue summary - one character can provide an executive summary of what was said to another character

Footnotes/End-notes - you can provide your readers with a translation in the form of footnotes/end-notes (this is more common in e.g. fanfiction than in published fiction:

"Avete imbarazzo non solo voi stessi, ma ancu e vostre famiglie," I continue with a stern stare. "Ora. Ascoltate attentamente, così non vi far dei coglioni ancora più grandi."

They eye me sheepishly. Even if they understand zilch, they would've picked up on the key words: imbarazzo... famiglie... coglioni. The message is clear.

That said, the lack of reader and character understanding of the foreign language dialogue can actually be a storytelling tool that you consciously use to ‘hide’ information and create dramatic tension (information is being revealed, but your character(s) do not understand it, which gives you the chance to reveal it in a different context later).

Half-in - if you want to tone things down slightly, you can start an interaction with a segway phrase in the foreign language (usually a greeting) to set the scene, and then you continue the rest of the conversation in English. This usually works well if both characters that are part of the interaction are conversant in the language. You can also add a dialogue/action tag to indicate that the conversation is happening in a foreign language:

"Oui?" I ask, switching to French on autopilot as I answer the call.

Alternatively, you can interspace your character’s dialogue with foreign ‘slips of tongue’ where they deliver only certain words or phrases in the foreign language. This is especially useful from a characterisation point of view if you want to indicate that your character’s first language is not the same as the rest of the characters’, or you want to highlight the fact that your character is in a foreign setting:

"Unless you don't know how to count, gul'," sneers the third guy with a gold cross around his neck, "all these beers are ours."

"That they are," I nod. "But how is the waitress supposed to bring me my refill from here?"

"She's not, stronzo," growls the one that had Gail, leaning forward territorially.

Steering clear - however, you may decide that you do not want to get lost in the rabbit warren of a whole different language. In such a case, you can simply indicate with dialogue tags that the conversation is taking place in a different language.

"What do you mean you 'lost his signal'?" I demand in French, so Gale didn't accidentally overhear something that she had no clearance for. "We have a tracker in—"

Foreign phrases should be written in italics to visually indicate to the reader that you are switching languages:

All that said, if you do decide to include foreign languages in your writing, here are some things to keep in mind:

"Come stai?" he asks, grabbing my hand out of his brother’s grasp to drop a loud smooch on it as well.

"Sto bene, grazie," I reply graciously.

Mario and Luca stare at me in bewilderment before simultaneously lighting up in wonder. "Ah! Sorprendente! Parla italiano? Hai un così bell'accento! Tu che sembri—"

"And, this is Drake," I add in English, somewhat apologetically, having exhausted my limited Italian. "My husband."

The brothers' faces fall. "Ah. Piacere."

Make sure to include correct spelling (including accents) if this is a characteristic of the foreign language:

"Était-ce vraiment nécessaire?" demands Kiara huffily, hopping off the tailgate. "I don't know what your issue is with Drake, but you could've at least waited until we'd finished talking, instead of interrupting si grossièrement..."

Google Translate is not super accurate – you can use it to get the initial gist of the translation, but better resources are websites that take real-life bilingual text to give you a more accurate translation, such as:

https://context.reverso.net/translation/ 

https://www.linguee.com/ 

Where possible, ask a native speaker to proofread, as there are a lot of nuances in each language (grammar, turns of phrase, conjugation, etc.) that you will not be aware of if you are just relying on online sources.

Please, if I've missed anything, feel free to mention it in the comments and I'll add it!

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The Betrayer | Chapter Four: Now You Know

Nothing is fine.

Pairing: Albert Wesker/F!Reader, Chris Redfield/F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Death Mention

Notes: Chapter 4 is here! I am... so sorry... for how angsty this is, but also no I'm not. I made myself cry writing this, and hope the emotions come across as intended. Also, I know Lucky is a reader insert, but I really just wanted to give her a backstory and personality. I even envision her in my head in a very specific way lol. Hope you don't mind the lack of ambiguity because bringing her character to life has been such a joy. I am so in love with Chris Redfield it makes me look stupid. Wesker lovers, I promise our boy is coming. It is a slow-burn fic, and I needed/wanted to set up the world and give a lot of information before things take off. I put a lot of work into the worldbuilding though, so I hope you like it as I drop bits and pieces of that and explain it as I go. This story does have a set plot, but I'm keeping the chapters kinda fast and loose so I can make things up as I go. Chapter 5 is in the works. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading this installment as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please leave a comment if you can, the feedback is always good for the writing process!

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Day 1; Survivors’ Camp

Carlos let out a low whistle as you wrapped up your story. “You know what? I think Chris was right. You are one lucky girl.” 

“I just can’t believe you weren’t fired for that,” Leon scoffed, incredulous.

You chuckled. “Oh, I almost was. When I came to in the hospital, my captain absolutely chewed my ass out. So did Chris. I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of them so mad.”

“Well, if it were my girl’s life on the line, I think I’d be pretty miffed,” Carlos replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

You gave him a strange look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Could he know about–no… that’s not possible.

Carlos responded with a laugh, “Oh, just that–”

Before he could finish his sentence, the survivor who helped Chris set up the large pot over the fire cleared his throat. He was young, roughly Claire’s age, with a very dramatic coif and a long-sleeved green shirt pushed up to his elbows. Everyone turned to look at him expectantly.

He waved one hand in the air dramatically and you could see Chris roll his eyes behind him, forcing you to stifle a giggle. “Ladies and gents, dinner is served.” 

You heard various cheers and mutters of impatience at the declaration before everyone started forming a line in front of the two men. Chris was pouring the contents of the pot into a collection of mismatched bowels with a large ladle as the other survivor handed them out. 

Carlos only gave you a shrug instead of finishing his answer to you and made his way to the back of the line. You turned to Leon, exasperated, and he just offered you a sympathetic smile. 

The two of you stood, and you swayed a bit on your injured ankle. Leon was quick to grab your arm, letting you use him to steady yourself. 

“Thanks, it feels like it hurts worse every time I walk on it. Though I should probably just push through,” you said with gritted teeth, trying to find your balance without his assistance. 

“Or maybe you should stay off of it as much as possible. I can just bring you a bowl if you want.” 

You shook your head. “No, I can’t let this slow me down too much. If I’m picked for a trial tomorrow, I need to be able to walk on it. Just… give me a second to adjust.” 

“If you insist,” he replied as he watched you wince in pain. “Chris wasn’t lying when he said you were stubborn.” 

You guffawed, “Coming from him, of all people? Pot meet kettle. He’s probably the most stubborn person I know, and that’s coming from someone who worked with cops for a decade.” 

There was a small, amused grin on Leon’s face. “Yeah, I’m aware. But I think all of us have to be at least a little stubborn to make it in a place like this. Keeps the morale up, I guess.” 

He helped you hobble over to the line, which was dissipating quickly. The hungry survivors spread out to the many seats scattered around the clearing, talking animatedly to each other. It was so lively and pleasant compared to the heaviness that persisted before and during the trial. It was like they were celebrating moving past another day, and you couldn’t blame them. 

When the two of you reached the end, the last to get your food except for the men serving it, you pulled away from Leon to stand on your own. “I think I can manage now, thank you. Go on ahead of me.”

“If you’re sure,” he said, almost reluctantly. You waved him forward and he begrudgingly stepped up to get a bowl before leaving you to it.

You limped up to the survivor in front of you and he offered you a concerned look. “You, uh, gonna be okay there, lady?”

“Yeah. Believe it or not, I’ve had worse days.” You were only half-lying.

He smiled as he gave you your food. “You must be Lucky, right?” 

You groaned as you pinned Chris with a dirty look over the younger man’s shoulder. Chris pretended not to notice.

“I can’t seem to escape that nickname,” you told the survivor. “Even in this nightmare world, it follows me.” 

He chuckled lightly. “Well, I think it’s cute. And it suits you.” 

“Shouldn’t the patron be giving compliments to the chef and not the other way around?” you replied, taking a sip from the bowl.

The stew was hot and burned your mouth a bit, but it was delicious, whatever was in it. Maybe that was the hunger talking, though.

“Just the sous-chef, this time. I’m Steve, by the way.” He offered you his hand and you shook it.

“Well, Steve, it’s nice to meet you.” You glanced around at the others as you retracted your arm. “I guess I have my work cut out for me getting to know everyone.” 

“I wouldn’t sweat it too much,” he assured, grabbing his own bowl from Chris now that they were the last two left. “We live in pretty close quarters, and we’re all bound to end up in a trial together, eventually.”

“I guess that makes it easier,” you mumbled. 

“You know, if you want to socialize, you can come eat with me and my friends.”

You glimpsed at Chris to see what he thought about that, and he just shrugged, as if to say, ‘Up to you.’

You returned your attention back to Steve. “Sure. I’d like to get a head start on making introductions anyway.” 

“Cool, follow me.” 

You gave Chris a half-assed salute and he waved you off as he headed to wherever he planned to eat his meal. You trailed after your new friend. 

Steve led you to a long table at the far side of the clearing, a group of kids in their late teens sitting in the surrounding assortment of chairs. Rebecca and Claire were there, apparently already companions with the others. 

You felt rather old standing in front of these teenagers, being roughly a decade older than most of them, but it reminded you of the times you had to entertain your little brother and his friends over the years. It was almost nostalgic.

“I know Chris said so earlier, but this is Lucky,” Steve spoke, introducing you.

“You already know Claire and Rebecca. Obviously,” he stated, sweeping his hand towards them. He then pointed across the table at a girl wearing a striped sweater and the boy who sat next to her in a dark jacket. “But this is Nancy and Jonathan. We came here together.”

He then referred to a young woman in a blue button-up, a sad-looking girl with short dark hair, another girl in a beanie and a flannel, and a boy with messy hair who looked like he’d never slept a day in his short life, “That’s Laurie, Cheryl, Nea, and Quinten. They came alone.”

You waved–some of them either returning the favor or nodding to acknowledge your presence–and sat down between Steve and Claire.

“So how’d you get injured?” Quentin asked conversationally as you slurped at the stew in your grasp. 

Before you could swallow and reply, Nea interjected with a distinctly European accent, “I heard she was chased down by a giant spider.”

Claire jumped in, “The spider didn’t give her the injuries. Ghost Face did.” 

“You got away?” Jonathan questioned, looking surprised. 

“She didn’t just get away. She killed him,” Claire corrected, looking slyly at you.

“Bullshit!” Nea exclaimed, crossing her arms. “Nobody’s downed a killer on their own. Especially not their first night in the realm. That’s impossible.” 

“Well, believe it, Nea. She did. She’s a badass.”

“It’s not like you were there. She could be lying.” 

“I know her! She’s not a liar!”

“I know you’re only defending her cos she’s screwing your brother.” 

You spit your food out onto the table, everyone who was intently listening to the bickering between the two girls quickly turning to you. You wiped your face with the back of your hand. “Excuse me?” 

“Nea, that was too far,” Nancy warned before addressing you. “If it is true you killed Ghost Face, I think that’s really impressive.”

“Yeah, if you could manage that, you might be able to help us get out of trials alive more often,” Jonathan added, wrapping an arm around the girl. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Steve tense up. 

Drama, much, you thought.

Nea rolled her eyes. “Better that than get in the way, at least.” 

The group half-heartedly agreed and the discussion moved swiftly to different topics. 

You watched on in amusement as you witnessed the typical teenage bullshittery unfold before you. 

There was the weird tension between Steve, Jonathan, and Nancy on one side of the table, though Nancy seemed to be avoiding it by conversing with Laurie. On the other end, Nea and Claire bickered good-naturedly, Quentin looked like he wasn’t all there, and Rebecca and Cheryl, who sat side-by-side, were quietly talking amongst themselves. 

Steve noticed your silence as he glanced over at you, leaning in to whisper, “I know it's a weird bunch, but we all have each other’s backs.” 

You smiled, appreciating that despite everything, at least these kids got some form of normalcy. 

If only they didn’t have to be here at all.

The thought of your brother being stuck in a place like this was more painful than you could bear to imagine. Chris must have been devastated when he realized Claire was trapped here too. Your heart ached for him.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the clearing and you all turned to face the campfire. Standing on the other side, illuminated by the flames, was a young blonde woman wearing cowgirl boots and cut-off jean shorts. Her entire left arm was covered in a floral tattoo, leading from her shoulder down to her wrist, where a beat-up old guitar was held aloft in her hand.

“That’s Kate,” Laurie informed you. “She was a singer before she was brought here. She doesn’t do performances every night, though, so you’re lucky to get to see it so soon!” 

“Well, it is her name, isn't it?” Nea snarked. 

Laurie only gave her an exasperated look. 

“It’s a special night, y’all. We have a new survivor here with us, and I think we should all give her a warm welcome! This is for Lucky!” Kate called out. 

Every single person in the camp turned to look at you—some smiling, some curious. You felt incredibly exposed by the attention. 

Steve clapped your shoulder and you heard Carlos wolf-whistle from across the clearing. Jill reached over and smacked him on the arm. He had the audacity to look wounded by the playful action. 

The campsite went quiet again when Kate started strumming her guitar. After a few chords, she began to sing. 

It was possibly the most beautiful and captivating voice you’d ever heard, even though you didn’t recognize the lyrics. 

Looking around you, it was clear everyone else felt the same way, their eyes glued to the woman who swayed and tapped her foot as she crooned her sad but hopeful melody. 

When she finished, there was thunderous applause that echoed off the walls of the encampment. 

She bowed, her face flushed by the reaction, before she spoke again, “This next one’s a dance song! I want everyone to get up and groove!” 

There was a flurry of movement as a bunch of people stood and made their way to the middle of the camp, taking partners with them. Claire strode over to Leon to ask him to dance, and you saw him rub the back of his neck sheepishly as he let her pull him into the fray. 

Nancy and Jonathan went together, Steve watching them with a clenched jaw. 

He got to his feet and faced you. “You wanna dance with me?”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Steve. I can barely walk, let alone dance.”

“Right, yeah. No problem,” he replied, a little embarrassed by the rejection. He turned to Laurie. “Would you?”

She smiled up at him and took his hand. “Why not?”

The others at your table sat back to watch in amusement as the large group twirled in tandem. Those who weren’t dancing were stomping their feet and clapping along.

“Care to join me?” You were startled as Chris sidled up to you, his large hand outstretched. 

He had shed his green tactical vest, revealing his white S.T.A.R.S. shirt underneath. The top few buttons were undone and you could see a small tuft of his chest hair poking through the gap. His muscles were barely contained by the snugly fit article of clothing, making you avert your gaze in embarrassment for even looking. 

Dude is built like a grizzly, you mused.

You recovered quickly and answered him, “The ankle, Redfield. I don’t think I’d be able to keep up.”

He leaned down and swiftly lifted you, setting your feet on top of his own. “Don’t worry, Lucky, I can do it for the both of us.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping you as he spun you into the shifting masses. 

You were a little shocked to see Carlos and Jill paired together nearby, as Jill had always been more of a wallflower, preferring to watch you and the others live it up at the bars and clubs your friend group often visited back home. Carlos was leading and seemed very suave about it, despite his usual air of goofiness. Jill was smiling wider than you’d ever seen as they danced, her face flushed pink in the campfire light. 

“They seem… awfully close,” you remarked to Chris.

He followed your gaze and chuckled. “You could say that. Carlos only had eyes for her the moment he got here. She clearly likes him back but won’t admit it.” 

You then saw Claire and Leon together. Claire seemed to be the one in charge and Leon, bless his soul, was stiff as a board and tripping over his own feet. They were both laughing.

“I think your lil sis has a crush,” you teased Chris, absentmindedly twirling the hair at the nape of his neck between your fingers. He shivered and you wondered if it was the chilly night air, though he had always been a furnace of man and rarely got cold. 

“I’m keeping an eye on it,” he replied with a scowl. “I know she’s an adult, but she’s still my kid sister. Leon’s a decent guy, but he has a thing for Ada. I worry Claire will get hurt.” 

“You can worry all you like, Chris, but the heart wants what it wants. You can’t protect her from everything. She needs to learn that lesson on her own if things don’t shake out.” 

He sighed, his grip on your waist tightening ever-so-slightly, “I know, I know. It’s just… so much is out of our control here. It’s hard not to double down on the ways I can protect her.”

“She’s an independent spirit, Chris. You’ll only push her away.” 

“You’re right,” he admitted, eyes meeting yours.

You grinned brightly up at him. “I always am.”

He snorted, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Lucky. I have a whole filing cabinet of times you proved yourself wrong.” 

You dropped one of your hands to press against your chest, mockingly flattered. “Aww, you keep a filing cabinet just for me?” 

“Definitely. It’s for moments like this, so I can keep you in check,” he joked.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or offended.”

“Hmm,” he thought aloud, dipping you, “probably a bit of both.”

He pulled you upright and you were pressed against him, your head resting on his broad chest. You were so close, you could hear his heartbeat under your ear, the soft rhythm of it calming to you. 

Trailing your gaze up to his face, you found an intensity in his half-lidded eyes you didn't think you had ever seen before.

You weren’t sure why, but you felt your own heart skip a beat.  

You came back to your senses when the song finally ended, those around you pulling apart and chatting excitedly. Kate started to gear up for another one, but you were utterly exhausted. Chris noticed.

“It’s been a long day, Lucky. We should go find you a room so you can get settled. You should rest,” he told you, his hand lingering against your side.

“That’s the best thing you’ve said all night.” 

He laughed and the two of you bid goodnight to those you passed by who weren’t preoccupied with dancing. 

You reached the edge of the clearing and Chris turned to you. “There’s a few empty shacks and open rooms in the facility. You can have your pick.”

You considered it for a moment. “Where are you staying?” 

“Why, you wanna be roommates?” he teased.

“No, more like neighbors. I think I’d feel… safer… knowing you’re close by,” you replied honestly. 

His gaze softened. “The group that’s from our world is staying in the facility. Most of the others are uncomfortable with sleeping there, but we don’t really mind it.”

“The facility it is, then.” 

He nodded and helped you enter the aforementioned structure, leading you down a corridor lit only by hanging lanterns, the wall lined with doors. He finally stopped and pointed to the room in front of you. “This one’s free to take. You’ll be next to Ada.”

“What about you?” you questioned out of curiosity. 

He gestured down the hall. “I’m just over there. If you ever need me at night, don’t be scared to knock on my door, got it?”

You agreed before you followed him into your new room. It was dark until Chris pulled out a matchbox from a drawer and lit a candle sitting in the shadows. As the flickering light filled the room, you took in the space before you. It was pretty drab, with cracking white walls, a stained linoleum floor, a dresser, a couple of side tables, and a bare full-size mattress on an old wooden frame.

“It isn’t much, I know, but the beds here aren’t terrible.”

“Are there any blankets around?” you asked, a bit worried you would freeze in only your S.T.A.R.S. shirt. 

“Oh, right. We tend to put extras in the dresser when a new survivor arrives. Here, I’ll help you get set up.” 

With that, the two of you made quick work of covering the mattress with some worn, moth-eaten bedding. There were even a couple of lumpy pillows, which you couldn’t really complain about, considering the night before you had nothing of the sort.

“Well,” Chris said as you plopped onto the bed, kicking off your boots, “I think that’s all. I can find you some new clothes tomorrow.” 

“Thank you. For everything. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t find me,” you confessed earnestly.

“I told you when we first started working together that I’d have your back, no matter what.” 

“Not even being stuck in hell can change your mind, huh?”

“Nothing could.”

“Stubborn ass.” 

“You’re one to talk.” 

You smiled at him warmly and he held your gaze for a moment until he half-turned to the door. “You should get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Before he could leave, you called after him, “Chris, wait. I know it’s late and we’re both tired, but… you told me you’d explain what happened to the other members of S.T.A.R.S.” 

The cheerfulness he had shown prior seemed to be sucked straight from his body. He didn’t immediately turn back to face you.

“Are you sure? It might be better to hold off until you’ve gotten some rest.”

“I’m sure, Chris. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

He sighed, slowly making his way over, and sat on the side of the bed right next to you. “Where should I start?” 

You rotated on the mattress to face him, your hand falling on his forearm. “From where we landed in Raccoon Forest.” 

“Here goes.”

And with that, he told you about the horrifying events that unfolded that night. 

Joseph was the first to reach the Bravo team’s chopper, and he discovered the mutilated body of Kevin Dooley. You didn’t know him very well, but his face still popped into your head at his name. He wasn’t a member of S.T.A.R.S., but you had been acquainted with him prior to its conception. He was a great pilot and always dependable. You felt your stomach tie up in knots.

Chris’s voice was tight when he then explained that Joseph was killed shortly after. Torn apart by a pack of rabid dogs. You and Jill had shot at them repeatedly, but they didn’t stop. You felt your eyes misting over. 

Joseph… He was one of your closest friends on the team, and you had been partnered up with him on more than one occasion. You could see his smile in your head–imagined his lighthearted teasing. 

Now he was dead.

Your grip on Chris’s arm only clenched further. You were fighting back tears as he continued.

Your group fled, being chased by the hounds after Brad had abandoned you, and entered a mansion in the middle of the forest. The “Spencer Mansion”, Chris called it. Barry was separated from your team in the chaos, and you had thought the worst.

Wesker had told you to split up. You and Chris remained together, while he and Jill paired off. The thought of being parted from them made you anxious.

The two of you were then faced with these terrifying creatures that had once been people, apparently infected with what Chris called the “T-virus”, which made them hungry for human flesh. You and Chris stumbled across a few corpses of your fellow S.T.A.R.S. members who had met that grisly fate. 

You struggled to keep your composure.

Eventually, you had run into Rebecca tending to a very wounded Richard. He had been bitten by a snake, or so you had been told, despite the bite being incredibly large. 

You and Chris tried to find an antidote while Rebecca remained at his side, but you were too late. Richard died right in front of your eyes, just like Joseph had. 

Your breath caught in your throat thinking about the sweet man–how he only wanted to protect everyone. 

He suffered until the very end. 

Chris had to pause to collect himself and you took the opportunity to prepare for what he was about to tell you next.

“We split up with Rebecca again, and you and I kept moving. We were ambushed by a group of those things, and although we were taking them out one by one, they had us surrounded. You ran out of bullets, and while trying to reload, your cast made you fumble and–”

“And what..?” You dreaded his next words.

“One of them got too close. It… it bit you. Tore into you. I managed to fight it off, but you were hurt. Badly. I couldn’t think straight. I just grabbed you, shoved some of them out of the way, and ran for it. I found Rebecca and we holed up in a bedroom nearby. She did her best to stop the bleeding, but you were fading fast. She had to leave to get more medical supplies, and I stayed with you. I somehow got through to Wesker, the radio signal going in and out the whole night, and he showed up shortly after.”

“What happened next, Chris?” 

“Rebecca… didn’t make it back in time. You–” his words were trapped in his throat as he stared down at your hand wrapped firmly around his arm. His jaw clenched.

“You died, Lucky.”

You were stunned, unable to comprehend what he had just said. 

Me? Dead?! you thought, mouth hung open and eyes wide. No, that’s not possible. That can’t be… 

But as the words really sunk in, you knew he was telling the truth. Chris would never lie to you, not about something like this. 

And how he and Jill acted when they first saw you earlier that day? The uncharacteristic emotion, the way Chris held you so tightly to him as if he never wanted to let go? The way he acted so weirdly uptight the first few hours after reuniting?

If Jill had been taken in September, you would have been dead for two months. Chris grieved you for five years. You couldn't imagine how it must have been for them to find you in that old farmhouse.

“I wish I–I wish I could have done more to save you. I’m sorry.” He refused to meet your gaze, so you planted your hands over the sides of his jaw, pulling him back to face you. He had never looked more defeated–more broken–the entire time you had known him as you regarded his tired visage. 

He was always the strong one. The one who could rally everyone together and push through all odds. Stubborn and bold and so rigid in his convictions, it sometimes drove you crazy.

And here he was, his warm brown eyes shining with unshed tears, the guilt and the grief weighing down on him like a stone tied to his neck.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered firmly, your thumbs stroking his skin in a feather-light touch. 

His eyes closed at your words, a few stray tears escaping their corners. You had never seen him cry before. Chris didn’t let himself be vulnerable like this. 

How heavy a burden he must have carried all this time. You don’t think you could have held it together that long if the roles had been reversed. 

“Thank you,” was his only reply.

He pulled away to wipe his eyes and you let him, dropping your hands from his face. 

A moment of silence passed between you, and you were reminded that the story was not over. You might have died, but you knew at the very least Chris and Jill survived that night. 

“Chris, can you tell me what happened after I…” you couldn’t finish. 

He knew what you meant and took a deep, shaky breath. “Rebecca and I, we just… pushed forward. All we could do. We learned Umbrella was behind everything and that Wesker, he–”

Chris no longer looked broken. 

He was angry.

“Wesker betrayed us.”

You felt your heart stop. “What are you talking about?”

“He knew about all of it, Lucky. He was in on it.”

“No. No. He would never do that to us,” you defended, voice raising.

He would never do that to me.

Chris grabbed your wrist and held it tight. “I know it's hard to take in, but it's true. He knew what was going on in those woods, in that mansion, and he led us all to our deaths.”

“But… why..?” was all you could muster.

“He was working for Umbrella the whole time. Umbrella created S.T.A.R.S. and instated him as captain. He was a traitor, right under our noses. He also roped Barry into helping him. Threatened his family.”

You thought of your older teammate and felt sympathy for him. If it was your family in peril, you knew you would have done the same thing. 

“How does it end, Chris?” you asked finally, needing to know. 

“We cornered Wesker in the lab under the mansion. He shot Rebecca–”

“Oh my god.”

“She survived, don’t worry. But Wesker showed me this… this monster Umbrella had created. The Tyrant, he called it. It broke free and ripped right through him.”

You were horrified. Sure, he betrayed you all, but this? This was too much.

“Jill, Rebecca, Barry, and I managed to escape. Brad came back to get us, the jackass. The whole place blew sky-high. We’d hoped that it would contain the virus.”

“So Wesker… Wesker’s dead.” It felt like your tongue fought you to admit the words, laying heavy in your mouth. You stared at a large crack in the wall across from you, unsure of what else to focus on. 

To lose him like this…

“We thought he was,” Chris muttered.

Your eyes snapped over to him. “What does that mean?”

“He survived somehow. I ended up fighting him months later. He got away then, too.” The look on Chris’s face was the closest thing to hatred you’d ever seen from him. 

Despite everything he told you, though, you were relieved. 

Your captain lived. 

At the expense of so many of your friends' lives, you reminded yourself bitterly.

You still weren’t finished, though. “Leon and Carlos said something happened to the city in September. What was that about?” 

Chris sighed deeply, that mounting rage dissipating immediately as he released his grip. “After the mansion, we wanted to do a full investigation of Umbrella. We knew there was corruption in the R.P.D., so we had to tread carefully. I got myself into some trouble as an excuse to take a ‘vacation’ in Europe, where I was looking into one of Umbrella’s international branches. Jill stayed in Raccoon City to keep an eye on things. And then, towards the end of September, everything back home went to shit.”

He continued, “There was an outbreak of the virus. Destroying the mansion didn’t stop the spread. The city was in chaos. Jill, Carlos, Claire, and Leon barely made it out alive before the government sent out a nuke. The whole city was leveled.” 

You panicked. “My family–what happened to my family?!”

Chris couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

“Chris, please, tell me,” your voice broke as you pleaded with him, seizing one of his hands desperately in two of your own.

“Your parents… they didn’t–they didn’t make it.”

The tears you had been holding back finally sprung forward, wetting your dirty cheeks. The salt of them stung the cut on your face, but the pain building up inside of you was far worse.

“What about Kitty? Tic?” you asked of your younger siblings.

Those weren’t their real names. Kitty, who was only eight years old, got her nickname when she was a baby. 

Your stepmother had this plump ginger cat, aptly named “Cheddar”. He hated everyone, especially you. You recalled when you were thirteen finding the miserable creature chowing down on a piece of plastic bag from the day’s grocery run. You quickly scooped him up and pulled it from his mouth, and in his gratitude for saving his life, he sliced his claw all the way from your temple down to your cheek. If you looked closely, you could still see the faint white line in the mirror, slightly raised against the rest of your skin. 

But the one person that cat didn’t hate was your baby sister. 

And she absolutely loved him. 

So much so that her first words were not “mama” or “dada”, but the joyful declaration of “kitty!” before she burst into a fit of laughter. Your parents called her that ever since.

Your brother, on the other hand, received his nickname from you. 

Even as a child, he never liked gum.

“It hurts my jaw,” he had whined. “Tic Tacs are just better! I can roll them around 'til they melt in my mouth. Superior candy.”

“Okay, you little freak,” you told him in jest, picking up the preferred mints and tossing them to him, the two of you wandering the isles of the nearby gas station after he begged you to take him for a car ride. “I’m gonna start calling you ‘Tic Tac Boy’ from now on.” 

You kept your word, but over the years, it shortened to “Tic”. You used it so often, even his friends started referring to him by the moniker. He was begrudging at first, but then he just accepted it (guessed it served you right when Chris did the same thing to you a couple of months ago).

He had just turned sixteen.

The man before you looked tense, his brows furrowed as he chose his words carefully, “Kitty, she… she was with your parents.” 

A sob wrenched itself from your throat, burning all the way up from the stabbing agony that started behind your ribs. You ripped your hands from Chris, digging your fingernails into your own legs hard enough to draw blood. You would have, were it not for your thick cargo pants protecting the flesh of your thighs from the filthy, jagged edges.

Kitty’s chubby, angelic little face and bright smile flashed through your mind. You could hear her gleeful shrieks as you chased her through the house, tickling her every time you caught up. 

Gone. It was all gone. 

Your brain bombarded you with the image of her charred corpse, nothing but the shape of her tiny body remaining in the ruins of the city you both grew up in. The city you both loved. 

You could see your parents holding her between them, trying with all they could to shield her from the blast, heads bowed and pressed together.

Chris pulled you into his embrace, your face shoved into his chest as your wails echoed in the small room, muffled only slightly by the cotton of his shirt. 

“She was just a baby, Chris! She was just a baby!”

“I know. I’m sorry, Lucky. I’m so sorry.” His large hand ran over the top of your head soothingly as you shook violently in his arms.

You don’t think you had ever felt so hopeless in your life, not even after your mother died. 

Your brother, though. Chris didn’t say what happened to your brother.

You pulled back, a crazed sort of look in your eye. “Tic, what about Tic?!”

“He was the only one who made it out.” 

Relief flooded through you. “Thank god. Thank god he’s okay.”

There was one good thing. One silver lining peeking through blackened clouds. 

He lost everyone and everything he ever loved, you thought, anguished on your kid brother’s behalf, but at least he’s alive.

Chris looked like he wanted to say more but refrained as he watched you unravel before him.

“Is there… is there anything else?” you managed. 

You were trying to keep from breaking into pieces, but it felt like your whole body was revolting against you–like it wanted to rip itself open and spill all this grief onto the floor, desperate for any way to get it out of you. 

He shook his head. “No. That’s everything.” 

You nodded, thinking for a moment you could pull yourself back together. But one thought of your parents, of your little sister, had you crumbling all over again.

“I think… I think I need to be alone,” you told him with shaky breaths, hating the tremor that laced your voice. 

“Are you sure?” He looked reluctant to let you go, to leave you there, suffering by yourself.

You needed it, though–needed to feel this pain that shuddered through you, sharper than any blade or broken bone. If you didn’t let it out, you thought it might kill you. 

But you didn’t want anyone, even Chris, to witness you fall apart completely.

“Please, go.” 

He nodded, squeezing you against him one last time, and stood. When he reached the door, hand on the knob, he turned to you with a sorrowful expression on his face.

“If I could go back and change it all, Lucky, I would in a heartbeat.”

You gave him a ghost of a smile through your tears as you responded, “I know.”

With that, he was gone. 

You fell forward against your bed, screaming at the top of your lungs into the pillow beneath you until your voice withered in your throat.

Nothing is fine.

--------------------

Masterlist | Previous | Next

[lycanr0t]

I think it's really silly and unhelpful to make comparisons between fan artists and fan writers such as trying to determine who gets more interaction and who "has it easier" and who is more appreciated.

Neither has it easier. Btw. It's a useless overly generalized comparison to make that does nothing but put one group down and pit the two groups against each other when we should be uplifting each other.

each have their highs and lows in terms of interaction. This is a fact that will remain true for all of time purely because they are different forms of creation that require viewers to engage with it in different ways.

some artists may get more things such as likes and reblogs/retweets on visual heavy platforms like tumblr and twitter. But there seems to be an attitude among some that artists universally get attention with ease and i promise you thats simply not true. for every artist whose work is popular theres hundreds upon thousands of artists who get absolutely nothing. Just like writers.

writers DO have a hard time on platforms like tumblr. It's hard to convince people to read a whole fic on a website that is designed for and caters to quick casual scrolling. It sucks but that is a reality. You have to understand not every space is catered to every form of creation. Visual art is faster to see, like, and move on from. So naturally in an environment build for that interaction it has a better chance at doing well.

But at least in my experience, writers when they get interaction, are much more likely to get MEANINGFUL interaction.

Artwork I posted just a week ago (or less!) gets next to no notes, maybe some likes. In it's whole lifespan it maybe gets a handful of replies or tags that say one-two word compliments. (I am in no way putting this down. A compliment is a compliment!) meanwhile a fanfic that I wrote literally 10 years ago still will get comments on ao3 describing to me how much they adore it, telling me the specific parts they liked, and taking the time to really TELL me they loved it.

My point being that social media sites like tumblr and twitter are designed for shorter, smaller interaction. Visual art you can easily do that with, but it does tend to lead to less in depth interaction which does leave a lot of artists feeling used and unappreciated. written works DO require people to sit down and take the time to read it, which does mean less people will take that time, but (in my personal experience + what i have observed) the interaction that fics DO get is much more likely to be in depth and thought out.

EDIT:: forgot to add that since fics do often struggle to get interaction started, that also can lead to feeling unappreciated! both groups have instances of feeling this way!!

My experiences are obviously not universal. But that's my point exactly. Each artist, each writer, we all have different experiences with what gets more or less love/interaction. There are so many factors that play into this and no group is to blame here. No group has it better or worse its just different. And it's incredibly silly to point fingers and claim "oh artists have it better" or "oh writers have it better" babes we ALL have it rough.

Creative works across the board are unappreciated and across the board people are busting ass trying to be seen. No site is perfect and not everyone will get huge amounts of interaction. Let's not get so hung up on trying to figure out who is better off and instead put that energy into uplifting everyone.

if you see fanart you like then consider leaving a reply/comment/tags/ask/etc telling the artist exactly what you like about it! try and put effort into making it longer than 1-2 words! sit and really absorb the art!

if you read a fic you like consider sharing it with others! consider rbing or sharing it, leaving a nice comment, like/kudos, send the author an ask telling them you like it!

we ALL can use more appreciation, but understand we are all people also. no one owes anyone interaction, and guilting people into it and playing petty "i have it worse" games is not the way to go.

love others work. do it openly and passionately but do it to your ability. And realize in fandoms NONE of us magically have it easier just because we make a certain type of creation. It's not a competition. Fandoms are communities built on shared passion and mutual sharing, not marketplaces fighting to be the loudest most successful business

[stxrvel]

bittersweet feelings (1)

summary: you have to deal with the harsh truth after Bucky arrives from one of his missions.

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

warnings: nothing i think, just you know English is not my native language so sorry for any mistakes!

words: +2.5k

note: hi! I've been feeling physically unwell since I last posted and have been in bed, but today I was finally able to get a moment of calm and lucidity, so, enjoy and hope you like it!

also, i've been working on a series that I want to publish soon, but I don't know why I always find it difficult to do all that planning. anyway, I really hope I can bring it to you soon! thank u for all the support!

part 2

part 3

Admiring Bucky Barnes from afar has become too much of a challenge in recent days. Before, you were wrapped up in papers, essays, final exams and projects due, locking yourself in your room at a time or living in your university library, simply too busy to wander your eyes over the sprawling figure of Bucky strolling around the Complex. Ironically, he always spent more time there when you weren't there.

But now, completely free of academic responsibilities and banned from going on missions at Fury's whim, you had a lot more time to wander the halls of the Complex, especially in the gym where the man with the metal arm used to spend most of his time. Many times (if not all the time) you felt like a lousy attempt of a stalker, and you was almost 100% sure that he realised what you were doing but preferred not to say anything so as not to embarrass you. And that was much more embarrassing.

But did that stop you? Absolutely not.

He'd cut his hair a few days ago, and although you loved the way his hair looked on his shoulders and the way it blew in the wind every time he walked, as if he were a model on a bloody photo shoot, you shamelessly admitted that you had quickly grown to love his new style. Because, honestly, did something look bad on Bucky?

Your hands moved indiscreetly across the table, crumpling the paper between your fingers that you had previously been reading, as you watched the aforementioned man's shoulders shake after hearing Sam Wilson say something about Scott's card game. You moved your eyes scanning his entire face, trying to memorise the expression on his face as he smiled so openly, as he almost never did in public.

“Am I interrupting your crazy stalker moment?”

Tony's voice startled you, and you turned your head so sharply to look at something other than Bucky that a slight twinge of pain made its way from the back of your neck to your right shoulder. You grimaced and watched the millionaire sit down next to you on one of the black chairs that were spread out in the first floor cafeteria. Ahead of you, a large glass door separated you from one of the side exits of the Complex, where Bucky and Sam had stopped to talk and, surely at first, discuss the mission Bucky had just returned from.

“I'm not a crazy stalker,” you told him dismissively, but your nerves were eating you up inside. Even though you knew you weren't entirely discreet, you still weren't ready for someone to tell you that you were too obvious for him not to know anymore.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” Tony commented sarcastically and you felt a quick pang of fear inside your chest, “I was just coming to tell you that Fury made the decision to send you to Milan with Steve the other week.”

Your gaze finally shifted away from Bucky's figure, closer and closer to where you stood, to Tony and you frowned at him in extreme confusion.

“What? So soon?”

“Isn't that what you wanted? To go back to the camp?”

“Well, yes, but I thought his tantrum was going to last much longer.”

Tony let out a laugh and proceeded to open the packet of peanuts in his pocket, “If he hears you say that, consider yourself fired, kiddo.”

“Then it's a relief that no one heard me say it,” you smiled innocently at Tony, who only gave you a tight-mouthed smile in return.

“It's just a recon mission. Steve thinks there's an empty HYDRA base you can investigate, and you're pretty nimble with that non-digitized document review stuff.”

“You mean I'm good at reading physical documents?”

“You know what I mean, eagle eyes. There's nothing you're missing.”

“Ow,” you croon with a smile, “Thanks for the compliment, Stark.”

“You're welcome. Now, don't go freaking out. Barnes is walking this way.”

He then stood up and planted himself in front of you, as your heart did a wild flip and you felt him pause for a second, before resuming his march at an unnatural pace. You didn't even know if it was possible for a heart to beat that fast. You felt sweat beading on your hands and started to breathe through your mouth as you felt the nervousness take over your whole body.

“What?” you exclaimed, staring at him, sitting uncomfortably in the chair across the table they had shared.

“I told you not to freak out, you're only going to make it worse.”

You narrowed your eyes at him with a frown. Next, you took about three deep breaths to try and calm your frantic heartbeat, before Sam's figure - and consequently Bucky's - appeared in your field of view to the side of Stark's body. The man gave you a look with an arched eyebrow, as if to ask you to behave yourself, which was an exaggeration.

That was an exaggeration. You spent a lot of time with Bucky! Even when you two were alone you didn't feel as nervous as you did at moments like this.

When your gazes met, you could barely return the smile he gave you before you turned your eyes to Sam, who had just spoken but you hadn't gotten to hear everything he'd said because your head was in the clouds.

“...and that you're going back to the camp with Steve. How long since you've been out? Almost four months? You must be anxious.”

You just nodded, looking at him through tight lips.

Tony rubbed his eyes in an exasperated gesture.

“I could ask Fury to let me tag along,” Bucky's voice reached your ears like a forbidden delicacy. It had been several days since you'd last heard it and it was like a gift from the gods, “Lest he bore you with his awkward silences.”

“We don't have awkward silences,” you grumbled quickly, not knowing exactly why you were getting defensive. Tony raised his eyebrows at you and you shrugged in place, “I mean, we talk about a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky's jocular tone didn't do much for your nerves and sanity, “Name a topic you've been talking about for more than three minutes.”

You pursed your lips and stared at his perfect face, uninjured by the mission, as you conjured up memories of your conversations with Steve. Your almost non-existent conversations.

Your cheeks flushed as you realised he was right, but you weren't going to let him win you over this time.

“One time, we talked all night about a movie.”

“If you're going to say you talked about Lord of the Rings, that doesn't count,” Sam spoke with a half smile on his face.

“Why not?” you grumbled quickly, watching the grimace in his face.

“He talks to everyone about those movies. It doesn't even feel like a conversation anymore, it's like a monologue.”

“Careful, Sam,” Tony spoke up after several seconds, “She likes those movies too.”

“Hey! They're good movies.”

“Good for a nap,” Sam let out a laugh.

You watched Bucky pursed his lips and looked down at the floor, holding back a chuckle.

“They're entertaining,” you muttered with a frown.

Sam pointed at you, his eyebrows arched and his corners raised in a playful grin.

“Well, that's it,” Bucky interrupted whatever Sam was going to say, “You know what they say, to each his own.”

“I'm with Barnes on this one,” Tony spoke up, resting one of his hands on Barnes' shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. Bucky watched his hand and then the millionaire's face with an arched eyebrow, but Tony quickly turned his attention away from Bucky to Sam, “Speaking of Steve, he asked me to tell you to look for him in the main room. He said something about a pending conversation.”

Tony put his arm around Sam's shoulders, leaning part of his body to lead him to walk with him out of the cafeteria. They promptly struck up a conversation on their way out of the cafeteria, and you felt your hands shake once you realized you were alone with Bucky after a couple of weeks of not being able to talk properly with him.

You turned your head away from where the two people who had accompanied you a few seconds before were leaving, hearing the creak of a chair being dragged in front of you. You watched Bucky move his body into a sitting position, settling his forearms on the table and his eyes fixed on yours. Settling into the chair, you gave him a tight-lipped, tense smile. Act normal.

“So the boss finally gave in,” the black-haired man said, his lips curling as he interlocked his hands.

You nodded your head slightly, “It was quicker than I thought. I thought he'd never let me back in the field.”

“And can you blame him? You sure scared the soul out of his body,” Bucky arched his eyebrows, and the mere memory of what happened gave you a feeling of irritability.

You grimaced, “Oh, it wasn't a big deal.”

“It wasn't a big deal? Honey, you threw yourself at those people all by yourself.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, like you did every time he called you names when you were alone. He never did it in public, and it was something you didn't try to think about very often.

“So what? This was all unnecessarily dramatic,” you tried to say in the most neutral tone of voice possible as you crossed your legs under the table.

“There were twenty men,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Do you think me incapable, Barnes?” you arched an eyebrow, speaking with courage.

“No, of course not,” he quickly replied, his gaze softening, “But you disobeyed a direct order from Natasha and put your life at risk. You know how Fury is with you, he cares too much about you.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your back fall against the back of the chair, “But I'm not made of porcelain. I'm as good as Nat, she trained me herself!”

“But Fury didn't see her grow up.”

Well, he had a point and rightly so. You had grown up with the boss, who had practically adopted you, which was one of the reasons he used to be overprotective or refuse you to do some things because he thought it was for the best. And that fact had also helped you form fraternal bonds with all the Avengers until you were old enough and capable enough to be a part of them.

Well, you saw everyone as a nice family except Bucky. And that was a big problem.

You watched him through your eyelashes with an almost imperceptible pout.

Bucky gave you a beautiful smile, the kind that could light up an entire city, “Honey, I understand that it bothers you, but the position you put Fury in at the time, or everyone for that matter, made it hard for him not to make the decision he did. Maybe he overstepped, I'm not denying that, but he was scared.”

“There were other ways...” you started to renege again.

“And would you really have listened to him?” he inquired without wiping away his smile. It amazed you how lenient he could be with you, when with the rest of the world he was a hermit and sulky most of the time.

You sighed. Yep, you could be pretty stubborn when you put your mind to it.

“Well, the important thing is that he finally realised his mistake,” you blurted out with an amused grin. Bucky frowned and pointed the index finger of his metal arm at you.

“I think you missed the point of our little debate.”

“No, no... I understand, Bucky, I do. But Fury have to trust my skills a little more. I could against all of them! It was a spectacle.”

“But you're not always going to come out on top, sweetheart. At some point someone can catch you off guard, and that's what Fury's afraid of.”

“Well, it'll have to happen at some point. Unfortunately, I'm not invincible,” you agreed and admitted what he had said, because he was certainly right, with a tight-lipped smile.

You thought Bucky would be amused, or at least agree with you, but he merely bowed his head, frowned and tensed noticeably. You noticed that his expression suddenly hardened, and it frightened you that you had said something that would have angered him.

“What?” you asked fearfully.

He looked up from the table to look at you again, waking up. He gave you a smile, but a stiffer, harder and committed one. Your chest tightened, “It's not.... It's nothing. Just try to be careful next time, more cautious if necessary. You know, strategist.”

“Yeah, I know, I don't risk it if I don't think it's necessary.”

“That's my girl.”

You froze for a few seconds, just watching him, before your face heated up into an all too violent blush. He'd never said anything like that to you before... but you certainly didn't balk at the possibility that he might again.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you smiled shyly at him.

The sound of the cafeteria doors swinging open distracted the man in front of you, but you kept staring at his profile, gawking and surely with heart-shaped eyes. How was it possible that you liked him so much? Even though it had been a while since you last spoke, it seemed that your feelings for him had only grown three times his size.

Then, you heard it:

“Bucky!”

A woman's voice in the distance.

Confused, you turned your gaze in the direction of the voice, which came from the same place Bucky had been watching for several seconds. She was the one who had opened the doors so frantically, then. You frowned at her from a distance, unable to recognise her figure or features; it wasn't usually easy for you to forget the faces of people you knew, and you certainly didn't know this woman.

However, when you turned to ask Bucky, the half-smile on his face gave you the answer without words. Your chest tightened and you clenched your hands so as not to show the abrupt change of mood you had just gone through when he turned his face and fixed his eyes on yours. All without erasing that smile.

That smile he had on his face for her.

“I guess you'll have to go with Steve to schedule everything about the mission.”

You nodded, uncomfortably, not looking away.

“Fine. In the meantime, I'll go on my date,” he crooned, and the burning you felt intensified so much that it felt like you couldn't pass saliva without straining. But you smiled at him, your lips curving awkwardly and your face reluctant to show a feeling you didn't experience.

“Wow, I thought I'd never hear you say something like that.”

“Life is full of surprises, honey,” he said smiling as he stood up, “Do you want me to walk you to the living room?”

“No, don't worry. I'll be there in a minute,” you replied quickly. It was the first time since you had met him that you wanted him to leave you alone for once.

“All right. Good luck with the old man.”

“Thanks. Good luck with your- your- your date.”

You hated the way your voice betrayed you, but Bucky didn't seem to pay too much attention to it as he waved goodbye to you and started walking in the direction of the woman waiting for him outside the cafeteria doors. You felt your chest tighten as you sighed deeply and a couple of tears welled up in your eyes.

Damn it, at what point had all that happened?

[its-me-im-coraline]

Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SIX || AFTER RAIN

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of death + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 25 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.6k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : curse womb must die II

↳ next episode : assault 

↳ barista’s notes : hey hey hey~ let me admit, i have no idea how to write the next episode since you don’t see anyone in them except for gojo and itadori (domain expansion episode) ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ so i might have to improvise something now...BUT there’s nothing much happening in this episode, so i hope you still enjoy it even when there is no action or anything interesting going on ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique 

no cursed spells used this episode...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing

“We’re in!” Fushiguro and Kugisaki simultaneously answered with determined looks on their faces before turning back to look at you, waiting for your answer.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, you knew that you had no way out of this since they looked so motivated for you to join, even if you disagreed with them.

“This is such a drag, but fine, I’ll join in too,” you replied with a small smile on your face leading them to nod at you before turning back to your seniors.

“But if I decided this training and exchange event is pointless, I’m quitting instantly,” Kugisaki mentioned.

“Same here,” Fushiguro commented, causing you to kick both of them on the back much to their surprise.

“So you drags make me do this event, only for you to dip when it’s pointless for you, besides I heard there are some interesting sorcerers in the Kyoto side, so prepare yourselves,” you stated before stepping down the few steps you were in front of before standing between them.

“Well, people this cocky are all more worthwhile to train,” Panda mentioned with his arms folded with a determined look on his face.

“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki said in a softer tone.

Looking up to the sky, you couldn’t help but brisk in the sunlight that was shining lightly down upon you, leading you to raise your hand over your face in order to not be blinded.

‘I wonder how I’m going to hide from this one now?’

                                                   ꕥ

“You’re late, Megumi,” Zenin obviously mentioned, as her head was turned with what seemed like to be a wooden combat pole in her hand as it casually leaned against her shoulder.

“Kelp,” Inumaki stated, as he was sitting on the ground, also having his head turned to look at the Shikigami user, ignoring what seemed to be a race between Kugisaki and Panda going on behind him.

“What were you doing?” Maki asked curiously, as Fushiguro made his way down the stone steps towards his upperclassman while zipping up his blue track top.

“What does it matter?” Fushiguro then questioned, not giving the weapon-wielder sorcerer a clear answer since he thought there was no need sharing the fact that he went to visit the mother of the man (that Itadori want to save) that had been killed by the special-grade curse back at Eushi Detention Centre to pay his condolences.

“Zenin-senpai...what kinds of people do you want to save as a jujutsu sorcerer?” Fushiguro queried, as he processed to stare down upon the ground trying to hide his emotions to compose his stoic nature, causing the mentioned sorcerer to turn her head once again to look at the other student.

“Huh? It’s not like I care if my actions save anyone,” Zenin answered in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Fushiguro to look to the side with an ‘I’m done’ expression.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Fushiguro muttered in a lowered tone, leading Zenin to instantly become annoyed as she eyed at the erratic-haired boy with instant irritations in her eyes as well as expression.

Suddenly…

“FUSHIGURO! Quit asking interview prep questions! Switch with me! I’m sick of these school uniforms! Let me go buy some cute tracksuits!” Kugisaki shouted in a fit of rage, as she was strangely spun around in a dizzy circle like she was at a funfair circus as a clueless gymnast before being thrown in the air by Panda.

“What are those two doing?” Fushiguro confusingly asked as he watched the amusing sight process while his classmate landed on the floor.

“Falling practice!” Panda announced as he pointed his finger in the air like what he was doing was obviously.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki stated as if to confirm Panda’s answer, as he too looked at the ridiculous scene.

“You’re both weak in close quarters, after all,” Panda stated, as he informed his younger classmen on why what he was doing, made sense to the training that he had planned.

“By the way, where is Y/N? She was with you when you both left to do whatever you were doing,” Zenin questioned, as she looked around the area behind her to see if you were there since she did miss your presence the last time you both met.

“She said she needed to go somewhere important, but will be back as quick as possible,” Fushiguro recalled, as he remembers after you both met with Tadashi’s mother, you informed him that you had to go somewhere for the time being, but didn’t tell him where you were exactly heading off to.

“That’s fine, I guess,” Maki replied back as she processed to swing around the wooden pole she had in her hand with such grace and accuracy before continuing with, “if what that idiot Gojo said to us about her is true, she could beat all of us in an instant, she’ll probably be perfect in the individual’s battle,”.

“Okay, land a blow on us,” Zenin stated, with her palm out, as if inviting Fushiguro to attack her.

                                                ꕥ

“I’m here, mother”

As of right now, you were holding a small bouquet of a beautiful arrangement of blue hydrangeas paired with white roses with some incense sticks in one hand, while the other was holding a wooden tub filled with water with a wooden ladle as well as a plastic white bag with items you quickly brought from the corner store causing you to quickly place your items down before leaving the delicate bouquet in a safe area.

Digging through the white plastic bag, you pulled out a cloth before removing the stubborn tags that refused to be taken off as you processed to soak the material before beginning to wipe down the marble gravestone that towered you as your crouched down before cleaning the vase that you had also brought from the corner store - yet you were surprised at the fact there were no weeds to be pulled.

After you had quickly clean the gravestone, you picked up the incense sticks in their rightful holder before lighting them up with a match (that you also brought from the store) before carefully removing the paper that held the flowers to gently place the floral plants in the same neat arrangement in the now cleaned vase.

Making sure the china vase was placed in the middle, you grabbed the wooden ladle that was in the wooden bucket, making sure it had enough water before standing back up on your feet to pour the clear liquid over the grave as you then placed the ladle back into the bucket.

Placing your hands together in prayer, before internally thanking your mother for protecting you as well as expressing your gratitude for her.

“They’re your favourite flowers right?” you gently asked, as you stared down at the flowers that were beautifully sitting in the vase. “Those were really expensive you know, I wonder how you were able to buy them so often without any regrets,” you muttered with a small smile before crouching back down as if you were going to look eye to eye with the gravestone like your mother was going to be sitting in front of you.

“I've been found…but...I wasn’t as bad as I suspected, the people at Jujutsu Tech are such drags but they’re really nice people,” you expressed, as you continued with, “I’m sorry I took so long to visit, you know Sendai to Tyoko is a really long journey, technically that’s both our faults since we agreed that we wanted to rest in Tokyo if we did pass,”.

Looking at the marble stone in front of you, you could see the thin smoke of incense that was slowly swirling into the air, as if it was trying to hypnotise you with its graceful movements. However, even though you knew you had to get back to Jujutsu Tech as quick as you could, you couldn’t help but utter a few more words to your late mother.

“I miss you mum”

                                                ꕥ

“Ah- am I late?”

At this current moment in time, it seemed like training had taken a pause since everyone was seated somewhere close to the stone stairs that lead the way down to the track field.

“Where were you? I needed you to train Megumi more,” Zenin asked, as you carefully made your way down the stairs with another white plastic bag in hand before making your way to your upperclassmen with one hand holding each handle, leaving an opening that was large enough to let her have a view on the contents inside.

“Sorry, I was visiting someone, but I got you guys some refreshments since I know you all were going to be tired by the time I came. Oh! The orange juice is mine by the way,” you mentioned, as you swiftly grabbed the orange carton from the bag as if someone was going to steal it if you didn’t.

Smiling at you, Zenin leaned away from the tree bark to see what she could choose from the bag, before reaching in, to grab that bottle of water as her choice before you processed to hold the bag around for everyone to get a pick on what beverage they wanted before you took a seat on the steps between Fushiguro and Inuamki.

“Where’s Kugisaki?” you asked in curiosity, as you looked around the fielded area only to not find your classmate leading Fushiguro to explain to you that she went out to buy a tracksuit since she didn’t have one, causing you to realise that you probably needed to change later but for now, you didn’t find being in your school uniform since the slit on the side of your long skirt, made it easier to move as well as deal with the warm environment that was coming in for the season at the moment.

“Gojo, your katana is a cursed weapon right?” Fushiguro asked, causing you to look at him weirdly after stabbing the straw into the carton before giving him a nod as a way to reply to his question.

“I agreed with the others that supplementing my close combat with weapons is the best choice right now, but with my cursed technique, I want to be able to free both hands at any time, with katanas, you lose time sheathing them,” Fushiguro explained, as he placed the pads of his fingers together while looking down at them.

“How do you carry your weapon when your cursed technique is used by your hands as well, also how did you manage to hide the chain attached at the end?” Fushiguro asked as he looked up at you, only to be surprised when he saw you looking at him with an annoyed expression.

‘That’s one way to somewhat expose me, I guess’

“I can utilise my technique by using only one hand, although there are times when I have to use both hands like you. However, I rarely unsheathe my katana, so it usually hangs on my back,” you described, causing Fushiguro’s to concentrate on you, trying to understand your technique since it seemed more complicated then you made it look at your battle with Sukuna.

“About the chain, the red charm cancels the chain being constructed since it will use my cursed energy, not a lot for me, but it’s a drag since I need the extra bit. When the charm is off, I use my curse energy to conceal before clicking my fingers to reveal it, if I want to, and when I use two hands, I can use the chain to pull it back,” you explained, causing the second-years to be surprised at the amount of cursed energy you have to use to employ such a simple weapon - maybe it wasn’t as simple as they intentionally thought.

“How much cursed energy do you possess, Y/N?” Panda asked as he placed his paw on his chin in a thinking posture, only for Fushiguro to answer the question.

“She has a lot more than she is showing right now, I don’t know how but she can hide it,” Fushiguro stated, causing you to smack the back of his head before placing the neglected straw back to your lips since you were desperately craving the citrus content that was in the carton.

“Zenin-senpai, you often carry more than two around with you, right? How do you do that?” Fushiguro queried as he rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain you had given him.

“I made Panda carry them,” Zenin answered, as she pointed at the classmate leading to the animal sorcerer to proudly show off his muscles as if to inform you and Fushiguro on how strong he was.

“I shouldn’t have asked, part two,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath, causing you to giggle internally at the statement as you wondered what he must have asked the first time since ‘part two’ was in the sentence.

“Some sorcerers keep cursed spirits that can store and retrieve objects,” Panda presented a well-thought idea, even though there was a disadvantage to that.

“He can’t do that. It’s a rare thing and it takes time to tame them, as well. But if you find any, let me know,” Zenin countered, before Panda replied for the payment he wanted if he ever finds a curse for her, causing you to zone out from the conversation as you processed to stare down at the step before you, that was slightly darkened by the shade of your shadow.

In curiosity, you took a side glance at your classmate only to notice that he was in deep thought, leaving you to figure something out for him while he thought of his own solution.

‘His shikigami uses shadows for a medium, then if that is the case…’

Using your hand that was occupied with your orange juice, you leaned forwards slightly, letting the tips of your fingers touch the stone step below you while making them land in the middle of your shadow.

“I think you can do that,” you stated in a quiet tone, causing Fushiguro to look in your direction only to see you staying still in the position that you had set yourself in before slowly pulling yourself back up to sit in a normal position, leading Fushiguro to go back to what he was in deep thought about.

‘I don’t get it, though. Why...did you run back then? What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well’

“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?”

‘I have the potential to beat special grades? Is that what he meant by that?’ Fushiguro thought, before turning to look at you to discover you were looking into the distance while continuously sipping on your orange juice like the addict you were. 

‘What was she trying to tell me? It seemed like L/N knows something...intellect?’

Slowly but curiously, Fushiguro began to reciprocate your previous movements by letting his hand touch the step between his legs before waiting for a second to see what you were trying to inform him, only for his hand to steadily go deeper into his shadow leading him to widen his eyes at this discovery.

“Tuna, tuna,” Inumaki mentioned, as he pointed at Fushiguro since he noticed what he was doing, leading Zenin and Panda to look at their classmate wanting to know what he was trying to bring their attention to.

“Huh? What?” Zenin asked in confusion, before turning her head in the shikigami user’s direction to realise what he was doing.

“Senpai, I think I can do it,” Fushiguro stated with a rare smile, before looking in your direction once again to see you were still staring at the field in front of you.

‘Such intellect…’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[fizzyxcustard]

Covert Eyes (15)

Prologue| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references, angst, heartbreak, gunshot wounds and recovery.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control. Amy knows that her recovery won't be quick, and she now has another decision to face.

Official soundtrack list:  here

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. The above image was made by me using images found online.

I also wanted to stipulate, and I don’t mean to be rude, but if you ask to be on my tag list and never interact (even if just a ‘like’ on the chapters I post) then I will remove you after a few weeks. Please try and show some kind of engagement, or ask to be taken off my list if you’re no longer interested.

For those of you who have seen the series, I'm messing around with the timeline a lot. So there are characters who are in the story together who wouldn't have been in the series.

Amy knew that her recovery would not come overnight. A kind physiotherapist came to see her on the second day of being awake. The forty-something woman with short, red-brown hair and sweet perfume, helped Amy out of bed, while Lucas and Amy’s parents watched. Joan, the physiotherapist, held Amy’s arm, reassuring her to take her time. 

Amy’s mother, Sharon, felt completely useless. She was watching her youngest child, her baby, struggle to stand up straight from the bedside and take her own weight. Sharon couldn’t help but choke with tears, and then felt the loving grasp of her husband’s hand in hers. 

Lucas felt like a spare part, taking up space where he didn’t belong. It was Amy’s mother who had stayed the last two nights, demanding to be beside her daughter, even though the hospital generally didn’t like visitors at night, unless the patient was under eighteen. Lucas had taken Richard back to Amy’s flat, where the two men had started to get to know each other fairly well. The first night had been a little awkward, but Richard had asked Lucas for a drink and the two men had walked two streets up to the local pub for a pint. It had certainly helped break the ice somewhat. 

Once Amy had successfully stood up and took her own weight, she hobbled to the bedside chair and sat down, wincing as she bent her body into the seat. The pain was warm and seemed to spread outwards all through Amy’s abdomen as she moved. Sharon dashed over and offered Amy the cup of tea which had started going cold. “Here, come and have a drink, love,” she said. 

Amy looked up at her mother, whom she’d been told many times that she resembled, and felt nothing but gratitude. Three of the most important people in her life were all together in the same room. She hoped that Leah and Ruth would make it for the weekend when the doctors were planning on discharging Amy, all being well. “Thanks, mum. Do you want to go and rest tonight? Dad or Lucas can stay. I mean, none of you have to. You don’t have to stay with me.” 

“We’re not leaving you by yourself,” Richard urged. 

“I’m thirty two, Dad,” Amy countered with a smile. 

“Don’t start giving me figures. You’re still my little girl,” Richard replied. 

“Mum, please go and rest at my flat. There’s plenty of stuff in the bathroom of mine for you to use.” 

A short while later and it was arranged that Lucas would stay the night, giving Sharon the proper rest that she needed. Amy remained in the bedside seat. It was a cheap, slippery material and every time she shifted, it made a loud farting-like noise. The sound still caused everyone in the room to smirk, reminding them all of the repressed children that they still were. 

“I can’t wait to eat some proper food,” Amy mused. “The meals in here are horrible. I’m craving fish and chips, a big bag from the local by me.” 

And that was exactly what everyone had for dinner that evening. Amy groaned in delight as she picked up a chip and put it in her mouth, the grease and salt tasting divine. The whole room was full of chatter and laughter as they ate, until it was time for Richard and Sharon to leave. They both kissed Amy on the cheek and bid her goodnight. 

Once they were alone, Lucas pulled his seat in against Amy’s and took her hand in his. “How are you feeling? Do you need any more painkillers?” he asked. 

“I’m constantly aching, but if I stay in this position then I’m okay,” Amy replied with a chuckle. “The nurse should be here in the next hour with my bedtime tablets anyway. Come here.” She beckoned him closer with the gentle wiggle of her index finger. 

Lucas grinned and moved in, kissing her. 

Immediately the kiss grew hot and Amy’s hands were in his hair, but before their kiss caused any more frustration, they both parted, panting. “When I’m back on my feet properly, we can go and get my ring.” 

Lucas’ face beamed with disbelief and he gasped, then a tear fell down his cheek. “Are you sure…this is what you want?” His voice broke in sheer joy and he couldn’t help but chuckle and then cup her cheek with his hand. 

“More than anything.” 

***

The next morning, while Lucas was out of the room, a knock came to Amy’s room. “Yes?” she called out. 

“May I have a few minutes with you?” a voice came, paired with the face of Ros. 

Amy had spoken with Ros very briefly once she’d woken, and they had discussed what happened on the day of the shooting. Ros had made sure that Amy knew the cover story, and didn’t implicate Lucas as having any part of it. Amy nodded her head and watched Ros approach. 

“I wanted to catch you while Lucas isn’t here,” Ros said, sitting down beside Amy’s bed. “With him in the room, it may influence your decision.” 

Amy furrowed her eyebrows. “Decision? For what?” 

“I’ve been in talks with our senior lead, Harry, for the last day or so about this. We’d like you to have some kind of role within our team. We’re thinking more desk based analysis at first, but in time, if you wish, then you can go out into the field. Your actions the other day and the fact that you’ve remained quiet about Lucas’ work has shown us that you’re quite capable of being part of section D. Your vetting is all clear, however you’d need our highest level of clearance, which includes quite intrusive questioning, so please take your time in making a decision.” Ros then took a white card from her pocket and placed it down on the table. “You can call me any time to discuss it.” 

“Why do you think Lucas would influence my decision?” Amy asked. 

“I know Lucas quite well, and he’d be concerned for your safety, which is only natural. But you’ve become a part of this now, and you’ve seen glimpses of the job that we normally keep secret. Make the decision for you, not for anyone else.” 

***

Amy’s discharge came quite quickly, a day earlier than expected. She was scooted out of the room where she had been resident for the last week by her dad, sitting in a wheelchair, with her mum and Lucas either side of her. The conversation with Ros had remained in her mind for the last three days, replaying over and over. Of course Lucas would not want her to join MI-5. She had almost lost her life defending him, and was now being offered a chance to go into that very world where she had almost died. 

Richard and Sharon were due to stay with Amy a further couple of nights and then travel home, but through the two days, Lucas could see that Amy was distracted. And by the time she had bid her parents farewell and wished them a safe journey back to Coventry, Lucas confronted Amy. 

“Something’s on your mind,” he began. He sat down beside Amy on her sofa. “I’m not stupid. I’ve seen it for the last two days. Talk to me about it.” 

Amy sighed and shifted, then winced in pain. “Please don’t get angry.” 

“Angry? What’s going on?” Lucas’ eyes had grown wide and fear was beginning to creep into his gut and chest now. 

“Ros came to see me a few days ago while you were out of the room. I can’t remember what you were doing. And she’s asked me to join your team.” 

“Have you said no?” Lucas asked. “Please tell me you’ve said no.” 

“I’m considering it.” 

“You cannot be fucking serious!” Lucas exclaimed. “After what happened to you?” 

“And that’s exactly why they want me, and why Ros didn’t want you to be in the room when she asked me.” 

Lucas stood up and grit his teeth. “I cannot believe they didn’t even talk with me. They’ve gone behind my back, discussing this.” 

“They knew you’d react like this. It’s only a desk job, analysis apparently.” 

“Which could later progress…” 

“Look, I know why you’re pissed off,” Amy explained. “But I’ve caught a glimpse of the world you work in, and maybe they’re concerned I’d walk away and spill everything to someone.” 

Lucas sat back down beside Amy and brushed the back of his hand up her cheek. “I love you too much to watch you risk your life every day. Even if you’re working a desk job, we can be compromised at any point. People know where the building is; it’s easy to find us. Aim, think long and hard about this. Don’t just jump into it. Training lasts months, even for analysts. More than likely your training wouldn’t even be local.” 

“I know I’m stepping into your territory, and you’d have to see me every day…” 

“Shhh. It’s not about that at all. I would love having you with me every day, but it’s dangerous. Do you really want to know the specifics of every job I do? Do you want to be plagued with knowing what might happen? Try and think about this from my perspective. How would you feel if it was me? You know that every time you go to work and you’re taking your life into your hands, and the person you love, who you’re ready to marry, and they want to become a part of that.” 

“We’d both be on decent pay…” 

“Oh, fuck money!” Lucas hissed. 

Amy brushed her hand down his thigh. “Lucas? Please don’t take away the control of my own life. You tried to do it before.” 

“This is your life,” Lucas whispered. “This isn’t me lying to you about my job to keep you safe. This is me trying to stop you walking back into the very thing that almost killed you a week ago. If I was a stronger man then I’d have walked away from you. I’d have made sure you were okay in the hospital and left…” He hung his head and began to weep. 

“I never want you to feel guilt. What happened to me was the act of one person, not you. Were you at the trigger end of that gun? No. You didn’t shoot me.” 

“But I didn’t take the bullet either. It should have been me lying in that hospital bed fighting for my life. Never you,” Lucas sobbed. 

“Lucas?” Amy asked, shifting toward him. 

Lucas looked up, his face contorted in pain and despair. 

“I’d take that bullet again for you any day,” she said softly. “I gladly took it for you.” 

Lucas cupped her cheek with his hand and smiled through his tears. “I’ve never known anyone as strong as you.” 

That night and Amy lay awake in bed, propped up against high pillows. Lucas had been called into work for overnight surveillance, leaving Amy alone with her thoughts. Of course it was only natural that Lucas would protect her; that was a given in any circumstance. Even if she hadn’t of been shot, Lucas would have still been against her joining the team. This job would mean a new adventure, not the typical nine to five job that she was used to. The thought of being part of the security services excited her. 

The next morning and Amy rang the number on the card which Ros had given her. After half a dozen rings, the line opened. “Hello, Ros Myers.”

“It’s Amy Holland. I’m calling to discuss the job offer you gave me the other day,” Amy said. She could feel the sweat accumulating on her palms and her heart speed up. 

“It’s good to hear from you. Would you prefer to discuss this face to face? I can come to your home.” 

Amy agreed for Ros to visit later that morning. And when Ros did arrive, Amy could feel her nerves building even more. The second in command of section D, Ros Myers was authoritative. Her posture and voice all screamed authority. However, the odd smile that she did offer showed the faint hint of humanity and compassion behind the cold exterior. 

Ros agreed to Amy’s proposal of coffee, and sat down at her dining room table. “I know Lucas isn’t happy about this situation, Amy,” Ros began, looking after the younger woman who was still moving around the kitchen rather slowly. “Harry and I had a meeting with him this morning, and he’s got every right to be pissed off. I’d probably feel the same.” 

“I know it’s not easy for him. He’ll always feel guilt for me being shot, but no matter how much I tell him that I’d gladly take that bullet again for him, it won’t stop the guilt. He has nothing to feel guilty for; Sarah did this to me, not him.”

Ros couldn’t help but smile at Amy as she placed a hot cup of coffee down. “Thank you. You’re a very pure soul, you know? I hope this job doesn’t take that from you.” 

“How do you mean?” Amy lowered herself down into the seat opposite Ros very slowly. 

“All of us come into this job feeling excited, like we’re going to make a difference, and don’t get me wrong, we do. The price we pay is worth it when you know at the end of the day, when you go home, that your country is safe. But it can harden you, make you suspicious of everyone around you. It almost gives you a sense that you know more than everyone else; they’re all innocent, ignorant to the evils of the world, and you’re carrying that ugly truth around with you. You’ve got to be absolutely sure that this is what you want. Don’t jump in thinking that it’ll be fun, because it’s far from that. It’s a serious commitment, and chances are, you and Lucas probably won’t even see each other much. If you ever did go out into the field, we couldn’t have you two working together for obvious reasons.” 

“I know that. I understand how serious a role it is, and I’m still very interested.”

“Harry has agreed that we wouldn’t submit your documentation for processing for at least another two or three months. That’ll give you plenty of time to recuperate, and then hand your notice in to your current employer. Your baseline security has already been completed through your role with DWP, and partially with your vetting through Lucas. So your top level clearance would need to be passed before we can consider giving you full access to the building.” 

Suddenly the front door shut. Footsteps came up the hallway, and then Lucas appeared in the doorway to the adjoining kitchen and dining room. “Ros,” he said simply. 

Amy could immediately see the set of Lucas’ jaw. He was clenching his teeth, and instead of sitting down at the table, he remained standing in the kitchen with his arms crossed. “Come and sit with us,” Amy asked. 

“I’d rather stand here,” Lucas replied coldly. 

“Lucas, please let Amy make this decision for herself.” 

“Oh, I am. This whole thing hasn’t included me at all, and I believe I should at least have known you were going to ask her to join the team.” 

“Lucas, it was only Harry and I who knew. No one else was told,” Ros snapped back. 

Amy got up from the table, but was ushered back by Lucas. “Go and sit down, love. I’m okay.” 

Ros shook her head in frustration. “I think you’re being unreasonable…” 

“Unreasonable?” Lucas asked in disbelief. “Unreasonable? I watched doctors resuscitating her!” His voice by now was deep in sheer disgust, highlighting just how livid he was. “I nearly lost her and it was because of this job. I’m not prepared to watch her walk into it like a sheep going to the slaughterhouse. She deserves more than that, Ros, and you know it!” 

“No, Lucas. You nearly lost her because of a woman you had a fling with who couldn’t let go of a grudge!” Ros shouted back. 

“Please, can we just leave this for now?” Amy asked, raising her voice over the shouting. “I’ll make my own informed decision.” 

“Informed?” Lucas scoffed. “Like shit it’ll be informed.” 

“Calm down, please,” Amy begged. 

“Calm down? Have it your way, Aim. Join the team. But don’t be surprised if the wedding doesn’t happen because you’re being carried away in a body bag.” 

Lucas stormed out of the room, and the front door slammed loudly. 

“I’m sorry, Ros,” Amy said, in sadness and embarrassment. “Maybe I shouldn’t…” 

“This is your decision. Not his.” 

***

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[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Chaconne: Part 9 (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: With the first concert of the season approaching, you continue working as the personal assistant of Maestra Agatha Harkness, while attempting to juggle your relationship and future in the process.

Word Count: 5K Words

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QCfDtxcFoyM

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to Part 9 of Chaconne. One quick thing...I have decided to extend this story by just a few parts, I really don’t want to rush through the ending and there are a few more things I want to write haha. Anyways, I included a link to the first movement of Dvorak Symphony No. 9, and it’s briefly mentioned throughout the story so if you feel inclined feel free to listen. I really hope all of you are still enjoying the story, and that you enjoy Part 9! As always, please feel free to leave a comment and my asks/messages are open if you have any questions :)

Tag List: @annie-mit-ie​  @celasteria​  @danvers97​  @imthedoctorlove​  @mcfriggingonagall​  @meowsaidmissy​ @notsosecretlyalesbian​ @sarahp-stan​ @scarletwxtxh​ @scarletmeltstheice​ @shinkomiii​ @sxfwap​ @thestrangeundoing​ @teenwonder​ @upsidedowndanvers​  @venticalooks​  @vintagegoddess12​  @everythingmarvelsherlockspn​  @thoroughly--confused​

You weren’t sure how long you were frozen on stage, completely lost in your thoughts before the sound of Agatha’s heels came clicking from backstage. Just as you managed to clear your head of Wanda’s offer, the alluring scent of lavender invaded your senses. Even from a few feet away you could hear the conductor mumbling to herself about god knows what. As soon as she spotted you, however, the ramblings immediately stopped.

“Ah, there you are,” Agatha said, offering you a rare but genuine smile as she set her belongings down on the podium. “I see you set the stage.”

Nodding you motioned across the hall. “It didn’t take too long but I gave the winds extra room like you requested.”

The conductor nodded before curiously eyeing you. “Are you alright, dear? You seem distracted.”

Well you could tell her that her least favorite concert pianist had just suggested you move to Vienna. Or how Wanda was apparently aware that there was something going on between the two of you. A part of you did think it would be important to inform Agatha of that, but you also didn’t want to make the situation any worse than it already was.

You quickly nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

Agatha’s eyes searched yours for a moment before nodding and turning her attention to her Dvorak score. A few minutes later, various MSO musicians arrived and began unpacking on and off stage. You eventually headed out to sit in one of the front rows, and you realized you never told Monica that she would be getting a new stand partner.

Luckily it didn’t take long for the violinist to enter the hall, followed closely by Jimmy and Darcy. Her face lit up when she saw you, and went to set her violin down in the row you were sitting in.

“Hey Y/N,” Monica greeted you brightly, before frowning when she noticed something was amiss. “Where’s your violin?”

“I...I’m not playing with the MSO anymore,” you explained quietly, watching Agatha berate the second chair oboist on stage for the way she tuned. “Hayward had blind auditions to fill the chair and I didn’t get it.”

“That’s whack,” Darcy immediately replied, causing Jimmy and Monica to glare at her. “What? It is.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Monica said sincerely. “You’re really talented, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah and it’s only one audition,”  Jimmy pointed out. “Hayward’s always been a bit hard headed when it comes to filling seats, especially if it’s someone he picked.”

“It’s okay,” you insisted. “And Monica you’ll be getting a new stand partner so I’m sure he’ll be really good.”

“Which one is he?” Darcy asked curiously as she scanned the hall.

You discreetly glanced around the room before you found him. He was already heading on stage, violin in hand. You hadn’t really paid him much mind before the audition, but now you seemed to notice every detail about him. The sure way he presented himself as he practically strutted up the stage. His rigid posture as he sat in his seat, as if that was a comfortable way to sit.

You motioned your head to the stage and Darcy let out a quiet snort. “Oh good. John Walker.”

Monica rolled her eyes at her friend. “You know this guy?”

“Of course I do,” Darcy replied. “I know everyone.”

“What’s his deal?” Jimmy asked curiously. “He seems a bit...”

“Like he has a stick up his ass?” Darcy guessed, and Jimmy laughed.

“I was going to say uptight, but sure.”

“Walker fancies himself to be a bit of a prodigy,” Darcy explained and shook her head. “He’s good, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not amazing. I played a few gigs with him last summer in the Hamptons and I dreaded every moment spent in his company.”

“I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Monica argued before giving you a sympathetic glance. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I agree with you,” you reassured the violinist. “I’m going to go see if Ag- Maestra needs anything before rehearsal so I’ll see you guys later?”

Agatha was leaning against the podium, drinking her water when she saw you approach her. The conductor appeared exhausted again, and you made a mental note to make sure she went straight home after rehearsal.

“Is there anything you need me to do?”

Agatha handed you her spare Dvorak score. “I’ll need you to tell me how the sound projects through the hall. We’ll be running the first movement today and I need to make sure the opening cello theme is clear enough.”

“Right, and if something isn’t clear what do you want me to do?”

“Well you could always throw something at Dottie,” Agatha suggested. “That would certainly get my attention.”

“Very funny,” you deadpanned. “I’m being serious.”

“As was I, dear. Dottie needs to look up from her music more. Perhaps that would encourage her to do so,” Agatha replied nonchalantly before sighing at the look you gave her. “Fine. I’ll ask you at the end of the movement what your notes are.”

“You mean my notes on sound projection, right?”

Agatha shrugged. “Or any suggestions you have on how to improve different sections. I...” the conductor paused and glanced around the hall to make sure no one else was listening in. “I do value your opinion.”

Your felt your heart sing at those words, and it took everything in you to not grab the older woman and kiss her senseless. Instead you gave her a bright smile. “Well I suppose I can try really hard to come up with a few meaningful suggestions.”

Rolling her eyes at your words, Agatha shook her head. “Try not to make me regret my decision, dear. Take a seat a few rows back, I’ll be starting rehearsal soon.”

Sure enough, just as you took your seat Agatha had the orchestra tuning before instructing them to start at the beginning of the first movement of the Dvorak. You loved every movement of Dvorak Symphony No. 9, and while you adored the fourth movement, there was something quite special about the first. There was this beautiful building intensity that started in the strings before slowly rising to include the entire ensemble. It was passionate, colorful, and left you eager for more.

As much as you loved performing, and you did more than anything, you found yourself enjoying getting to observe the rehearsal from your seat in the audience. It allowed you to focus on so much more than when you would be sitting in the first violin section. Before you never saw how Jimmy appears to have his entire part memorized since he usually has his eyes locked on Agatha the entire time. Or how talented Darcy was. You knew she had to be a good percussionist to be subbing for the MSO, but she performed with so much energy you found it hard to tear your eyes away from her.

Then there was Agatha. The conductor appeared lost in the music as she mindlessly conducted, but you swore you never saw anything more beautiful. Every single time you had the privilege of watching her conduct you swore she kept finding new ways to draw you in. How someone could make the simple movements with a baton and her hand so enticing. She had so much energy in her while conducting, and the love she had for the music was so clear in her eyes. What was even more fascinating to you was how easily the rest of the orchestra seemed to follow her. All of her cues were perfect, and she never missed a downbeat. She was by far the best conductor you had ever seen and you would never tire of getting to see this side of her.

The movement progressed and you turned your attention to the first violin section. Monica was was entirely in her element, and you immediately felt a slight pang at not being next to her on stage. You had a few stand partners who had been lovely over the years but Monica was better than all of them combined. She was so precise in her playing, and her technique was absolutely flawless. But what made Monica so unique was how genuinely kind she was. A lot of violinists were so focused on their craft it didn’t matter who they stepped on to get their way, but it was clear Monica didn’t play by those rules.

As you felt your eyes wander, they landed on the new violinist. John Walker. He was...good. The egomaniac violinist inside of you wanted to argue that you were better, but you shoved those comments away. For one thing he used far too much bow on his tremolos, and you were worried he was going to send his bow flying across the stage with the way he was holding it. Then there was his posture, he sat so rigid in his seat. After a few moments, you realized you were sounding more and more like Agatha.

Tearing your eyes away from the first violin section, you wrote down a few notes on sound quality throughout the movement and forced yourself to stay focused. The movement progressed and you couldn’t help but note how good the orchestra was sounding. Granted Agatha ran them hard, but it was clearly paying off. They were good before, but they were finally playing with more of a purpose. Unfortunately, you didn’t think Agatha felt the same was. As soon as the final chord rang out, the conductor whipped her baton on her stand, and you could tell she was angry.

“I don’t know where to begin,” Agatha spat out as she flipped through her score. “That was the saddest attempt of Dvorak I have ever heard in all my years of conducting. I’ve worked with youth symphonies who sounded better than all of you combined.”

Personally you felt Agatha was exaggerating a tad, but you watched her continue to rant.

“Woo, your projection is eons better than before but I still need more,” Agatha called out to the winds section, and you saw Jimmy shoot up in his seat as the conductor called his name. From the percussion section, Darcy also appeared to notice Jimmy’s change in posture and she glanced over and shook her head at you.

“If the rest of you could play as well as Woo I doubt we would be having this conversation but alas,” Agatha sighed, before tapping her baton on the stand. “Flutes, I’m starting to wonder if all of you are deaf or just enjoy the sound of my voice berating you, because what the hell was that? Jones, all of your solos are splitting my brain open. Either work on your intonation and have it fixed by tomorrow morning or I’ll be moving you to second chair.”

Dottie slouched in her seat and you bit your lip. Agatha had lost her temper before during rehearsal but this was slowly starting to get worse.

“I don’t have to time to rerun all of this because we have the idi-Miss Maximoff joining us shortly, but please turn your attention to measure seventy-five,��� Agatha instructed the ensemble, before turning her attention to the first violins. “First violins, I need this melody to be sweet and light as we begin, don’t give me too much too soon.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the new violinist raise his bow to ask a question. Oh good. That would definitely end well...Agatha continued rambling on about vibrato and tone, seemingly unaware of the violinist and a part of you hoped perhaps he would simply move on and ask the question later. But it appeared he was the persistent type as he cleared his throat to get the conductor’s attention. Although you were positive Agatha heard him, you were a few rows back and the sound was clear as day, she continued her rant, ignoring him completely. At this point the rest of the orchestra seemed aware of what was going on and everyone seemed to be waiting for Agatha to acknowledge him.

“Maestra? I had a question,” The violinist’s voice boomed through the hall, and you internally winced as you watched Agatha whip her head to look at him.

“Ah yes, our new addition,” Agatha said briefly, as she eyed the violinist. “John Walker, is it?”

He nodded. “I hate to interrupt Maestra-“

Agatha cut him off, appearing to grow more uninterested with every word that came out of his mouth. “Yet you still proceed to act like a privileged toddler to get my attention, so please, Walker, what is it?”

“I merely wanted to suggest a different approach to measure seventy-five,” John explained and he had far too much cockiness for your liking. “I know you feel it’s best to take a softer approach, I was always told to start with a bigger sound then slowly decrescendo. It’s just a suggestion.”

There was another pause as Agatha stared at the violinist with a calculating and cold stare. A part of you wondered if this would be the day she finally snapped and whipped her baton at someone. You had heard rumors of a betting pool the interns had on when Agatha would inevitably strangle someone for making her too angry. You had thought they were being a bit drastic at the time, but seeing the way she was looking at Walker was making you reconsider that.

“Thank you for sharing your very generous suggestions with us, Mr. Walker,” Agatha replied, and there was emphasis on the word suggestions. “I’m not sure if you are aware of where you are, but this is my orchestra.”

John frowned at that, and once again unwisely opened his mouth. “Maestra, I wasn’t attempting to overstep. I just thought I would offer my opinion on how to make the section stronger.”

“Ah yes, my mistake. I must have forgot when I asked for your opinion,” Agatha retorted. her temper appearing to grow more and more heated. “Would you like to offer any other suggestions, Walker? I’m positive the entire orchestra is simply dying to hear your words of wisdom.”

This time John remained silent, but you saw how darker his appearance grew at being called out in front of the entire orchestra. Agatha appeared satisfied by that and she tapped her baton against the stand again. “Lovely to see the newbie catching on. Measure seventy-five.”

The rehearsal of Dvorak continued to drag, and you marked a few notes for suggestions like Agatha had asked you to. You would occasionally check the clock, wondering when Wanda would be arriving since the orchestra was set to rehearse Rachmaninoff at 8:30 sharp. Eventually the doors to the hall opened, but instead of Wanda entering the room it was one of the interns Agatha hadn’t managed to scare away during her early reign of terror. The intern appeared nervous about something, who knows what, and they quickly sought you out.

“Y/N, you have to tell Maestra Harkness that Miss Maximoff won’t be attending rehearsal this evening,” the intern told you, and it looked like they were going to pass out from the fear of having to tell Agatha.

“Wanda’s not coming to rehearsal?” You asked curiously.

The intern quickly nodded. “She’s sick.”

Sick? You had just seen the pianist a couple hours ago and she appeared fine, but maybe she just came down with something. Giving the intern a small smile, you stood up. “I’ll tell Maestra, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” the intern said sincerely. “I’m pretty sure if I tell her she’ll find a way to fire me.”

The intern hurried back out of the hall and you slowly made your way to the front of the stage, hoping Agatha would call for the orchestra to take a break so you could make your move. With there only being a few rehearsals left until opening night you knew the absence of a soloist would send the conductor over the edge. But hopefully her strong dislike of Wanda would lighten the blow. As if the two of you were telepathically connected, Agatha turned around as you approached the stage and signaled for the orchestra to stop.

“Let’s take ten,” Agatha instructed them. “Have Rachmaninoff ready by the time we come back.”

The musicians all but hurried off the stage, and said hello to the few you had gotten to know over the past few weeks. Darcy caught your eye as she walked down the stairs and motioned her head to where John Walker was standing by his case, rolling her eyes in the process. You swallowed the laughter that threatened to escape as you went to join Agatha on stage. It didn’t take the older woman long to realize something was wrong.

“If you’re going to say I was being too hard on Walker, don’t,” Agatha quietly warned you, and it was apparent she was still fuming.

“I need you to promise me that you’re not going to throw a temper tantrum after I tell you this,” you said, and your tone was light, but Agatha gave you a look.

“I do not throw temper tantrums,” the conductor hissed as you motioned for her to follow you backstage.

“Of course not, Maestra. Your outbursts are completely normal for a woman of your-“ you quickly paused as Agatha arched an eyebrow at you, clearly unamused.

“My what, darling?” Agatha questioned, giving you an unconvincing glare as you laughed.

“Your stature,” you corrected yourself.

“You’re on thin ice,” the conductor warned you. “I’m not sure I like how easily you tease me.”

“Coming from the woman who’s done nothing but tease me since we met I think it’s only fair,” you offered, and Agatha smirked. “But really, please don’t freak out.”

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I’ll have no choice but to tie you up and force the words out of you myself,” Agatha mused, causing you to blush, which made her smirk grow wider. “Ah, do you like the sound of that, darling?”

“The rest of the orchestra is only a few feet away,” you warned her as she took a step closer to you. “If our relationship is supposed to stay private wouldn’t it be a bit unwise to...”

“Oh no, dear, don’t stop using your words now,” Agatha practically purred, she closed the distance between you, lightly shoving you against the wall. “We’re just getting started.”

“Agatha, I really think maybe we should do this somewhere-“ you began to say, and you truly had every intention of trying to be the rational one here, but any remaining brain function you had left was erased as Agatha’s lips began trailing up your neck, occasionally stoping to nip at skin. “Agatha...”

“Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Agatha whispered against your ear, the warm air of her breath sending tingles down your spine. “Or do I need to encourage you a bit more?”

“I don’t know how you doing this is supposed to encourage me to talk,” you argued, and bit back a moan as the conductor bit down on your earlobe.

“I’m just trying to help, darling,” Agatha insisted, pulling you impossibly closer to her as you were pressed against the wall. “I can help even more if you would like.”

“Wanda’s not coming to rehearsal,” you finally managed to let out with a gasp, and Agatha paused her movements at that.

“Darling, I know I’m a bit distracted but I believe you just said the Sokovian dingbat won’t be at rehearsal,” Agatha said slowly, as if she was trying to wrap her brain around what you just said.

Unwrapping yourself from the conductor, you nodded, trying to gauge her reaction. “She’s sick so she won’t be in attendance today.”

Agatha scoffed, shaking her head at your words. “Wanda Maximoff doesn’t get sick and miss rehearsal. I was-I worked with her long enough to know that.”

“Well that’s what personnel told me, so I’m not sure what to tell you,” you said, and you found yourself stuck on what Agatha had almost said. What wasn’t she telling you?

The conductor took a moment to pull her phone out of her pocket and her frown deepened even more. “Oh for the love of...” Agatha trailed off before whipping her phone against the wall, shattering it in the process.

You jumped at the sound, but Agatha barely seemed to notice you as she was entirely too lost in her thoughts. “Agatha, what’s wrong?”

“Cancel the rest of rehearsal,” Agatha said dismissively as she straightened her sweater. “Those idiots are infuriating me far too much and without Wanda we won’t make any progress on the Rachmaninoff.”

Gaping at her, you took a moment to process what she said. “You’ve never cancelled rehearsal before. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Now, Y/N. I have something I need to do,” Agatha said before storming out of the room, leaving you alone.

To say the MSO musicians were relieved Agatha had cancelled the remaining two hours of rehearsal would have been a vast understatement. You swore you never saw half of them move so quickly when you gave them the okay to leave. Since Agatha had apparently left for the day, you took the liberty of grabbing her belongings and dropped them off in her office on your way out. It wasn’t out of character for Agatha to lose her temper, you had grown used to her yelling and ranting. But her outburst backstage was unlike anything you had ever seen before. There was something the conductor wasn’t telling you, and while you had no idea what it was there was a sinking feeling in your chest that it had something to do with Wanda. Regardless of how curious, and anxious, you were over Agatha’s abrupt exit, you knew there was no good in worrying. She would tell you what was wrong...right?

It had been two days since you heard from Agatha. You received a call from management personnel early Saturday morning informing you that the conductor had cancelled all weekend rehearsals due to a stomach bug, which made you immediately go to call her until you remembered she left her shattered phone backstage. It wasn’t unusual for you to go a day without hearing from Agatha, the conductor valued her privacy and you respected her enough to give her what she needed. But after the practical smothering you had received from the older woman since the blind audition, it left you with a gut feeling that you had done something wrong.

What were the odds that Agatha was sick mere hours after storming out of rehearsal? They were slim, and it didn’t take a genius to tell you that. You had told Sam and Bucky what happened, and while they thought it was suspicious they also agreed that giving Agatha space would be the smartest move. Rationally speaking you knew that everything was fine, it just would have been nice to have received confirmation from the woman you were worrying so much about.

It had been a long time since you last had a Saturday off, so you spent your weekend watching Disney movies and napping while trying your best to keep your mind off Agatha. In fact you had been so distracted with the radio silence from the conductor that you almost forgot about Natasha Romanov and Vienna. The keyword being almost. You knew you needed to make a decision on if you were going to meet with the violinist, and you needed to make one soon. There was no guarantee Natasha would even choose you for her group, but still you found yourself imagining a world where you were performing in Vienna and finally getting to live your dreams. Only those dreams seemed somewhat bittersweet at the prospect of having them without Agatha. It was cliche being this attached this soon, but you couldn’t help it. You had never felt this strongly for anyone you dated before, there was something so different about Agatha that kept drawing you in.

Would it be fair to her if you moved to another continent when you were just starting your relationship? You knew she was concerned you would leave the Symphony after not getting the chair placement. While she had never directly told you, it was what made the most sense when considering her recent behavior. You didn’t want to leave her, you really didn’t. Agatha had given you so much while asking for nothing in return.

But the voice in your head asked if it was fair for you to stay somewhere you wouldn’t be happy. Would you grow to resent your job, or Agatha by association by remaining on as her assistant? Sam had been right when he said there were other jobs in New York City, but you knew nothing here would compare to the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra. While quitting would allow the two of you to date publicly, maybe, it would also ruin any chance you still had of hoping to join the MSO. Was that something you were willing to sacrifice? You had a lot you needed to consider, you just wished Agatha was there to help you.

Monday morning came far too quickly for your liking. You were anxious to see Agatha, to make sure she was okay, but you also had to make up your mind on whether to meet with Natasha Romanov. Wanda had sent you a polite, but short, email late Sunday night asking if you made a decision or not. You were still just as torn as you had been all weekend, and sadly this was a decision only you could make for yourself. As you exited the coffee shop, you were slightly surprised to see Agatha’s car waiting for you. The rear window was rolled down and Agatha had her gaze fixated on yours. Giving her a small smile, you approached the car while balancing both coffees.

“Good morning Maestra. Fancy seeing you here.”

Agatha rolled her eyes before helping open the door. “Yes yes, good morning dear. Please hurry up and get in before I have Hank leave without you.”

“You’re in a mood today,” you said lightly after making yourself comfortable in the vehicle. “Rough weekend?”

Agatha grimaced at your choice of words before shrugging. “Oh it was fine. A lot better since I didn’t have to hear those morons butcher Dvorak on Saturday.”

You gave her a look as you motioned to your coffee. “Oh right, your stomach bug? Maybe this won’t sit well then, should I give it to Hank?”

The conductor all but snatched the coffee out of your hands, glaring at you. “Funny, as always darling. I’m feeling much better now.”

So she was sticking with the sick story. As much as you wanted to press and find out why she stormed out of rehearsal so suddenly, you thought it best to not start a possible argument this early in the morning. Besides, Agatha wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You decided to take the safe approach. “Well I should probably keep my distance in case you’re still contagious. Wouldn’t want to catch anything.”

“If that’s what you think best, dear,” Agatha replied. “I would hate to get you sick.”

That’s how things remained the rest of the day. Agatha was clearly not over whatever upset her on Friday, and it appeared she wasn’t willing to share her troubles with you. So you did what you did best, and ignored the persistent voice begging you to talk to her. You busied yourself with various tasks both in and out of the conductor’s office. Opening night was in two weeks and there was much to do still. Even though Agatha had promised to be nicer to the interns, it appeared her generosity had run out as you began counting the number of crying individuals sent running from her office since lunch. Her mood was only growing more and more unstable as the hours passed, and even you found being in her company to be slightly unbearable. Agatha was clearly stressed, and you understood she was under a lot of pressure, you just wish she thought of healthier outlets to relieve it.

Towards the end of the day you received yet another polite, yet persistent email from Wanda and you knew the time had come. On one hand you wanted to ask Agatha’s opinion on the potential job, for you valued her opinion over anyone else’s. But the fear of a fight, especially over something involving Wanda, was enough to make you realize now was not the right time to bring up a potential move to Vienna. Plus you were only meeting with Natasha, it wasn’t like she was going to offer you a job on sight. There would be little to no harm in setting up a meeting. Then you could talk to Agatha.

Satisfied with your decision, you sent a quick reply to Wanda stating you would be interested in meeting with Natasha before heading back to Agatha’s office. Hopefully the conductor had enough time to cool down to consider leaving work within the next few hours. However, when you opened the door you were surprised to find her hunched over her desk, eyes locked on her laptop. She didn’t appear to hear you enter, and a part of you wondered if you should leave and come back later. Ultimately deciding that you would stay, you lightly knocked on the door to attempt to draw her attention away from the screen. It worked, only when she finally looked at you, you saw something unfamiliar in her eyes. Fear.

“Y/N...” Agatha trailed off, and you could practically see the frown lines become embedded in her skin.

“Agatha?” You barely recognized the sound of your own voice as you approached the conductor. “What’s wrong?”

Before the conductor could reply, your phone began to repeatedly ding. Pulling it out of your pocket you felt your heart sink at the notification. You had several texts from Sam, Bucky, Monica, even Darcy, but what caught your eye was an article from The New York Times.

‘Agatha All Along? An Inside Scoop to the Alleged Affair Between MSO Conductor Agatha Harkness and Concert Pianist Wanda Maximoff’

[flooffybits]

Heartbreaker

Idol: Choi Jisu (Itzy)

Being the messenger was always taxing, but somehow being the messenger got Jisu a package that she wasn’t expecting.

A/n: hello! first of all i don’t fully know much about skz so i apologize if this is inaccurate. also please thank our discord mallows for helping me create this little crack/fluff fic

☕buy me a coffee☕

"Hey, did you see the new girl on campus?"

Both people at the table looked up when the male had asked the question as he walked over, looking a little more chipper than usual before the pair shook their heads.

"My classes don't start until one, so I just got here a few minutes ago to study with Lia." The blond male replied while looking back at his notes. "She's in my literature class, really cute and creative." The brunette stated, earning a light roll of the eyes from the only female. "If she is new, I expect you to at least be friendly before you try anything, Jisung." She stated, putting her pen down and then resting her chin on her hand.

The boy huffed while taking a seat, though his mood doesn’t waver as he goes on. “I think you guys might see her in some classes? I’m not sure, but her name is Y/n.” Jisung explains and the pair look at him in defeat, knowing that he would go on until he finished. “She isn’t exactly eye catching, but I got to sit in front of her and thought that it would be nice to introduce myself to her.”

“That’s nice of you to do. How is she?” Jisu hummed, a little more interested to know since she’s sure that she’s heard the name somewhere before. “She’s really nice! A little timid since she said she isn’t too confident in her Korean.”

“Foreigner?” Hyunjin cocked his head and Jisung nodded in confirmation. “She’s been living here for two years. She only has her dad and I didn’t try asking about her mom since I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.” He added with his brows furrowed slightly and his friends can't help smiling at his thoughtfulness. “I’m sure she’s a nice girl.” Hyunjin grinned while patting his back and the other nodded happily.

“She is! I promise, you’re gonna love her if you meet her.”

And true to Jisung’s words, Hyunjin did meet you for his afternoon classes and was quick to pay attention when he found out who you were. He quickly understood your shyness and offered to be a friendly face in the sea of strangers.

“I was honestly a little surprised by you. Everyone else didn’t seem to want to bother with the new student.” You mention and the male shrugs his shoulders. “You seemed like you needed a friend, and Jisung happened to mention you when we were having lunch earlier.” He notices the way your expression brightens at the mention of his friend’s name and something doesn’t sit too well with him as he shifts in his seat.

“You’re friends with Jisung?” You ask and he nodded his head with a smile. “Yeah. We’re basically brothers. And we also have another friend, her name is Jisu, but most times we call her Lia.” He explained and you hum while nodding your head. “Choi Jisu?”

Hyunjin seemed a little surprised by your question, but he nodded either way before asking. “How do you know her?” You tap your pen against your notebook and rest your head against your other hand. “She’s my dorm mate, though I haven’t actually met her yet since I had a lot of stuff to deal with.” You explain sheepishly and Hyunjin gives you a cute little smile. "You're gonna love her."

..

"You're both being weird." Jisu comments while she writes down the answer for the problem she had been dealing with for the past few minutes.

Yet neither of her friends listen as they continue their little debate. "I'm telling you, the fair is the best way to welcome Y/n here!" But Jisung shook his head while scrolling through his phone. "A fair is too much! We don't want to overwhelm her." He argues and Hyunjin groans. "She'll have more fun at a fair than some museum."

Jisu had just been quietly listening to the pair go on while she did her homework, seeing that telling them to just ask you would only fall upon deaf ears, but she is surprised when her name comes falling from both their lips and she had to look up.

"What?"

"She's your roommate. You have a better idea of what she's like." Hyunjin tells her. "And you're both girls, so you have a better sense of what a girl likes." Jisung adds, his eyes almost pleading for the girl to side with him that she can't help but playfully roll her eyes. "We've talked, but we only really know the basics of each other."

"But you have a good judge of character." Jisu groans before resting her chin against her hand, looking thoughtful. "Well, I think she'd enjoy either. But if you want, I can ask her once we're at the dorm and then I'll text you?" She offers and the pair brighten up at her suggestion before nodding their heads that it makes her laugh a bit.

"You guys are so weird."

But she has no plans of replacing her friends no matter how weird they are.

"Hey, welcome back!" Jisu's surprised when she opens the door, still unaccustomed with having a roommate after getting used to being on her own for a while, but she figures it's a nice change.

"Hey, you're early today." She answers while setting her keys on the counter and you flash her a small grin. "My last class was canceled for today. My professor had an emergency at home, I think." You explain while leaning against the couch, laptop left open on the coffee table in front of you.

Jisu nods before moving to grab a bottle of water and then goes to sit down, leaving her bag hanging behind her chair. "Hey, are you going to be busy this weekend?" She suddenly asked, catching you a bit off guard since, to be honest, you weren't really expecting a question like that from your roommate. But you shake your head to answer her question.

"Well, not really. I was just planning on finishing up some of my homework and then familiarizing myself with the campus." You reply honestly while shrugging your shoulders.

There wasn't really much, plus this was a completely foreign area. You needed to know your way around and also look for the places you could, hopefully, use as a hangout place just so you didn't have to always stay in your dorm room like a hermit.

"You should join us, then." Jisu perked up, her smile only growing as you looked skeptical. "Hyunjin, Jisung and I are trying to decide whether we should go to the fair or a museum." She finally says, mentally patting herself on the back as she smoothly put the question out. "Though, which would you prefer to go to?"

You are pleasantly surprised, both by the offer and the way she's even taking your opinion into account, but something you've noted from your new dorm mate is that she's incredibly kind and thoughtful. It was no wonder she was friends with the other two. But you also didn't want to impose especially since the group didn't even know you.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind going to either, but I wouldn't want to suddenly tag along and ruin your guys' fun." You tell her and Jisu chuckles while shaking her head. "It's fine! They actually asked me to talk to you, since I thought you might not have many people to hang out with yet."

"Are you sure?" You ask her, hesitant, and Jisu giggles as she reaches for your hand to give it a light pat. "I promise, we'll be there for you."

There's something about her assurance that makes you feel warm. Her eyes disappear as her smile grows just a tad bit wider and you can't help but giggle at how cute she looks.

"Well, okay then. But where would you like to go though?" You return the question to her and this time, the tables have turned and Jisu wasn't quite sure what to answer, so she stutters out the first thing that comes to mind and she swears that she's a little bit stunned by the grin you shoot her way.

..

"Well, an aquarium is a little similar to a museum." Jisung commented while he looked up at the signs and Hyunjin pouted slightly, though wiped it away when he remembered that he would be seeing you in a little while. "It isn't the fair but the animals are kinda cute." He states while peering into one of the glass containers, giggling at the little jellyfish that floats by.

Both boys were a little disappointed that neither of their suggestions were picked, but seeing as they would be spending time with you, it was a fine decision. Plus, they did say they would go with whatever you would pick.

"Sorry for the wait! Y/n wanted to see some places on campus and we kinda lost track of time." Jisu apologizes when the two of you finally spot the pair and approach them with timid smiles on your faces.

Hyunjin shakes his head while shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's fine! Though, I hope you found whatever it was you were looking for?" He cocks his head to the side along with the question and you giggle at the adorable look on his face. "Yup! I had a great tour guide."

Jisu blushes in embarrassment while lightly smacking your arm. "Shut up. I only made sure you didn't get lost." She retorts, but you laugh nonetheless as she huffs at you and Jisung is happy that you're at least getting along with their little group.

"Well, how about we pick buddies so we don't get lost here?" He suggests coolly and Hyunjin shoots him a tiny glare when he realizes what his best friend is up to. Jisu can only really shake her head while you were none the wiser as you happily agreed.

"Great! Since you already spent the morning with Lia, how about we be buddies?" Hyunjin quickly asks before the other could even open his mouth and Jisung quickly pouts at you. "Hey, I should be Y/n's buddy. I befriended her first." He complained and Hyunjin turned his eyes to the brunette with furrowed brows. "What are you? Six? We'll still be a group." He retorted and Jisu had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at their childish antics.

You just found the whole exchange entertaining, especially when Jisung turned to the female beside you. "Back me up here. We're twins, right?" Hyunjin looked baffled by the sudden attack before crossing his arms. "Since when the hell were you twins?"

"Ever since we were born!"

"She's older than you!"

"Unless you guys have come to an agreement." Jisu cut in on the pair's bickering. "Y/n and I are gonna go ahead." She announces and you giggle while waving with your free hand while your other arm is looped with Jisu's. "Don't get lost!" You called as you both walked away with hushed giggles before the boys quickly snapped their mouths shut.

They shot each other a glare before quickly following the two of you.

"This is your fault." Jisung groaned and the latter scoffed. "I was just being friendly." Hyunjin retorted as he pouted at the seals when they swam in his line of sight. "You did say it would be nice getting to know her." Jisung frowned while scuffing his shoe against the floor. "Yeah, but I wanted to hang out with her because I wanted to be closer with her."

The admission caused Hyunjin to stop in his tracks before he slowly turned to his friend, a slightly guilty look overcoming his own features as he let out a sigh. "Looks like we really do have a lot of things in common." He chuckled, unamused, before shaking his head at Jisung's puzzled face.

"I think… I like her." He says slowly, watching as his friend’s eyes widened before pursing his lips. “And it’s clear that you feel something for her, too.” Jisung frowned at that before he looked to the ground, contemplating on what to say before he looked back up to meet Hyunjin’s eyes with determination in his own. “Then we’ll both do what we can and let her choose. But whatever happens, we don’t let it ruin us.”

Hyunjin blinked slightly in surprise, but a smile eventually came to his features before he clasped the outstretched hand in front of him with his own, laughing a bit as he nodded in agreement. “May the best man win.”

When the pair find you and Jisu happily marveling at the seal’s section in the aquarium, your laughter fills the slightly crowded area while you both watch the seal wave at its audience before swimming away, only to be replaced by another playful one.

“You guys look like you’re enjoying yourselves.” Jisung comments with a smile and the two of you look back at the two boys. “Well, we are on a trip. And it’s nice to see you’re both still alive.” Jisu shoots back playfully, drawing another giggle from you. “Had fun?” You ask the duo and they look at each other before nodding. “Yep! But you guys ditched us.” Jisung pouts and Jisu can’t help but cringe while you smile lightly.

“Sorry, but you were too slow.” You tease while reaching to pinch his cheek and the male pouts more while playfully pushing your hand away, though he does make sure not to let go of it when you lower your hand and your other two friends raise a brow at his subtle action.

“You stole Lia away and left us for dead, how could you?” He whined while shaking your hand and you giggled at his reaction before patting his arm. “You guys are more than capable of dealing with a crowd like this, so I didn’t leave you for dead.”

“Anyway.” Jisu watches as her two friends seem to grow a sudden sense of competition but keeps her mouth shut even as Hyunjin slings an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you away from Jisung’s grasp and successfully detaching your linked hands. “How about we grab something to eat? My feet are kinda tired and I’m hungry.”

It looked like that was something you could all agree on. Despite the fun that you all had walking around, none of you could deny that you were getting a bit hungry from all the excitement.

With his arm still around you, Hyunjin began leading your little group towards the area where food stalls were lined up, many friends and families loitering around as they seemed to be in the same predicament as you.

“So, what are you two up to, this time?” Jisu asks plainly without even bothering to look at the male walking beside her. She didn’t even have to look at him to know that he was sulking. “We’re trying to woo her.” He mumbled quietly and Jisu’s brows raised at his words before she shook her head.

“You guys are ridiculous, I swear.”

..

“Lia, can you give this to Y/n when you get back to your dorm?” Staring at the box in front of her, Jisu soon looked questioningly at her friend. Hyunjin smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s been busy with a project so I wanted to do something nice. She also mentioned that she liked these cookies so I thought it would at least cheer her up.” He explained while the female took the box and placed them on top of her books. “You didn’t think of just dropping by and handing them over, yourself?” She inquired and the male fiddled with the strap of his bag. “I didn’t want to be too much of a distraction.”

When he checks the time, he flashes her a smile. “My class is about to start, but I’ll see you later. Tell Y/n I said hi.” Jisu waved to the boy as he jogged off to a different building and it didn't take long before another person plopped down in front of her .

Honestly, Jisu was getting a little tired of her friends’ childishness because this had been going on for a good month and a half. Frankly? She was done playing their messenger.

But for the sake of their pride, she went along with it. She also wanted to see how long until they give up.

"What do you want me to hand over?" She asks, uninterested, and Jisung grins at her before handing the girl a stuffed animal, plus two drinks, making the girl look confused as she looks over the items.

"One is for you. I know that it gets tiring, but I also wanted to show you how much I appreciate it that you're doing this for Hyunjin and I." Jisung explains and Jisu softens slightly before she gives the boy a nudge. "You guys are stupid, do you know that?"

But even with her words, Jisung could feel the affection as he reached to give her a hug. "Just be careful with the plushie. I had no idea where to find it in the first place, but it's one of Y/n's favorite characters." He added, making Jisu look back down and nod her head. "Yeah, I know." 

"Roommate, right." He remembers before finally pulling back. "But anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Also, tell Y/n not to stress herself too much on her project. Make sure she's eating, too." He reminds and Jisu swears it feels like he's scolding her, too, because they all knew she had a tendency of forgetting to eat whenever she was too absorbed with her studies.

"You're sounding like a father." Jisu teased, laughing as Jisung shot her a playful glare. "Oh, shut up." He smiles before shaking his head and standing up. "Anyway, I have to get going. I promised Chan that I would help him with something, so I'll see you later."

When she's alone, Jisu lets out a small sigh before turning back to the gifts that she was once more tasked to deliver before huffing. Stuffing her things in her bag, she grabbed the box of cookies with one hand, plushie tucked under her arm, while the other grabbed the drinks.

"Unnie, you're a little late today." A short haired woman spoke up once Jisu entered the dorm building and stepped onto her floor.

Said girl smiled and shrugged her shoulders as the younger girl moved to help her carry the things she was holding. "Thank you." She muttered when she was relieved of the bit of extra weight. "Hyunjin and Jisung are busy and I have to study for a test, too." She replies while shaking her head as the other looked down at the things she had taken from her hands.

“Don’t even start, Ryujin.” Said girl merely raised her other hand in defense, looking amused. “I wasn’t even saying anything.” The younger girl defended, though the smirk on her face was already enough for Jisu to know what she wanted to tell her. "They'll get over it."

"You're hoping it's sooner than later." Ryujin quips when they walk over to her dorm room and Jisu frowns. "Okay, I admit it's exhausting, but they're happy at least. And I know that they aren't doing anything to jeopardize their friendship." She uses the same excuse, but Ryujin gives her a knowing look. "Feelings eventually grow or fade, unnie. If it's the former, her picking one is only going to make things worse no matter how much they say they're fine with it."

Jisu swears that she tries not to think of that, but in the very back of her mind, she knows it's true because she came to the same conclusion. If you decided to pick either of the two, the other would obviously be heartbroken and whatever would happen to their small group, she wasn't sure how she would deal with it.

"If they aren't ready to talk about it, maybe give Y/n unnie a little nudge and see who she likes more. Then go from there."

Jisu contemplates over the younger girl’s words for a good hour. She left your gifts on the table like usual while her own drink sat on the table situated beside her bed as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Hey." Your voice breaks through her thoughts, eyes squinting behind your glasses and Jisu forces herself to sit up and face you as you open the door a little wider. "I was calling you, but you weren't answering."

She can see the hesitance on your features, but the more she studies you, she realizes that she's gotten so used to seeing you in just a plain tee, comfortable shorts, and those cute little glasses that you wear only in the comfort of your dorm.

"Sorry, I was a little lost in thought." Her voice is hushed and you can't help but frown before padding over to the bed. Jisu scoots over to give you space to sit before she feels the bed dip slightly.

"You seem to be getting lost very frequently. Is something the matter?" You inquire and Jisu purses her lips because she isn't quite sure what to tell you.

Yes, something was bothering her. But the issue was, she wasn't sure what exactly it was.

She can see the genuine concern in your eyes and your voice pretty much gives it away. And as much as this wasn't anything new to her, it made her feel just a tad bit flattered.

"Do you…" She pauses and the words are at the tip of her tongue. So she licks her lips slightly before letting out a breath. "Do you like anyone?"

The surprise is clear on your face. But honestly, at that moment, Jisu was terrified to know the truth when she saw the way your cheeks flushed a bright red, obviously not expecting such a question.

However she isn't sure why she's dreading to hear one of her friends' names come spilling from your lips.

"Well, I…" You fiddle with your fingers, toying with the little ring wrapped around your right index finger, a gift she had given to solidify your friendship right after the aquarium hangout.

"I'm figuring it out."

.. 

"You seem chipper today." Jisu looks beside her to see Yeji giving her an odd look. The older girl cocked her head to the side, but Jisu just smiled while shrugging her shoulders. "What? Can't I enjoy class for once?" She rebuttals and Yeji seemed even more surprised by her response. 

"What did my brother promise you?" She prods and Jisu nearly rolled her eyes before giving her sit mate a light smack on the arm. "He didn't promise me anything. I'm just in a good mood."

"You having a good mood in Philosophy is a sign of the apocalypse."

"Shut up."

Even when the lecture started and time continued to tick by, Yeji kept glancing at her friend, whose smile refused to leave her face.

"You're starting to freak me out here, Lia." She whispers and said girl let out a huff. "Pay attention." But the latter had other plans she opted to go through with. "Come on, I thought we were friends."

Jisu felt the corners of her lips twitch at the latter's whining before she gave her friend a playful push. "I'll tell you later. For now, just pay attention."

Yeji was just about to continue whining, however the professor turned in their direction at the exact moment and she stiffened in her seat, making Jisu duck her head to hide her silent laughter.

Right as their class ended, Yeji was quick to hop to her feet and begin shaking her friend's arm when she was trying to collect her things. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

It honestly felt like Yeji was younger than her most times, but then again, she did have her own moments.

"Alright. Come on, let's go." 

The taller girl looked pretty confused by her words, but she followed Jisu out of the room and wasn't too surprised to see her brother and Jisung standing not too far away from them once they exited.

Hyunjin waved at his sister whilst she gave him a pout. "Lia has a secret and won't tell me yet." She complained, making the girl shake her head at her antics before glancing at her two best friends, who both eyed her curiously.

And she was lowkey scared now when she remembers the conversation she's had with you.

"What are you hiding?" Jisung asked playfully and Jisu tried to think of what to say that could possibly keep her nerves calm until a warm hand enveloped her own.

"Hi! Sorry, Yuna was asking me for tutoring lessons so we had to fix a schedule." You greet everyone with a bright smile and Jisu feels a little bit better when you direct your smile in her direction, one she happily reciprocates.

Hyunjin seemed surprised by your arrival, knowing that you didn't usually come to see any of them at this time. "I thought you used your free period in the library?" He asked and you nod your head in confirmation.

"Usually, yeah. But I did promise a certain someone that I was going to take them out." You answer with a little grin and Yeji's eyes widened in awe and realization whilst the two males seemed to pause at the sudden news.

"Really? You guys are so cute!" Yeji gushed, causing a blush to form on Jisu's cheeks while you gently tugged at her hand. "I know that break time isn't too long, so I hope you guys don't mind." You tell them, taking Jisu's bag and placing it on your own shoulder instead, raising her embarrassment as she squeezed your hand.

While the two of you waved them goodbye, Jisu flashed the two boys an apologetic stare before you began asking her how her day was.

Meanwhile, Jisung and Hyunjin blinked owlishly by the sudden events before slowly facing each other.

"A… date?" Hyunjin furrowed his brows and Yeji turned to face them. "I mean, yeah. I know Ryujin told Chaeryeong about talking to Lia, but to think that she picked her instead." She said humorously with a shake of her head.

"Wait, I thought Lia was straight!" Jisung said, flabbergasted, as he looked at the direction you had disappeared to.

Forgetting about their previous competition, both boys looked to each other before Yeji burst into laughter as she patted her twin's arm.

"You tried. But they are roommates, you don't really know what happens behind closed doors."

They swear, once you both came back from your date and you all had free period, they had a series of questions for the two of you regarding this little revelation, but they were nowhere near as angry as Jisu assumed them to be.

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch. 11)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Invisible Ties

Next Chapter: Goldenrod

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Additional notes: This is so funny but I made a mistake in assuming the previous Goodwill event was held in Tokyo. Rewatched JJK and found out it was in Kyoto so I had to rewrite it XD.

Chapter 11: Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill Event

Breakfast was a quiet affair. He brought out a short table and you had the meal side by side.

It was grilled salmon and miso soup. You both stole glances at each other when the other wasn't looking.

A domestic life with Noritoshi. Yeah you could get used to this. "Thank you for the meal Noritoshi." You smiled and offered to wash the dishes.

He stood behind you in the small kitchenette as you did, humming softly to yourself. Noritoshi was holding your waist gently and leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Thumbing small circles into the sides of your hips.

You quietly smiled at yourself, not expecting Noritoshi to love physical affection this much. After washing the dishes, you laughed as you placed your ice cold hands on his neck, forcing him to let go of you and flinch back with a frown.

Leaving Noritoshi’s dorm after breakfast had terrible timing apparently. You bumped into Todo senpai on your way out.

“Ah.” You both stared at each other for a bit. Noritoshi was still behind you, the door to his dorm room open. It didn’t help that you had your pillows and blankets in your hands.

And you were still in pajamas.

“So is this like a thing now? Congratulations on getting together.” Todo smiled down at you.

“Ah uhm- we- I- “ You stuttered, but Noritoshi wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him.

“Yes we are dating. And what of it?” He stared Todo down. You were flustered but incredibly pleased upon finally hearing a solid label between the two of you.

Todo just grinned. “So you actually have decent taste in women huh Kamo?”

“The best.” He replied dryly. You flushed and whined at Noritoshi, pawing at his robes. He just pulled you closer and hid your face in his chest.

“Didn’t know you had this shy side Tsuchi chan.” Todo was laughing. He bid both of you goodbye, and by the end of the day the entire campus knew both of you were dating.

But of course the both of you didn’t know it yet. “So…. you’re my boyfriend now Toshi?” you reached up to twirl his hair in your fingers as you made your belongings float in midair.

His eyes sparkled at the nickname. He leaned down close to you, “So it seems. Are you unhappy?”

“No. I’m happy.” You leaned up to press your lips against the corner of his.

Noritoshi sent you off, only letting you go after he had gotten a huge hug from you with a deep kiss to the cheek. He realized with a small jolt that he was pretty much touch-starved (no surprises there).

Wishing for more of your hugs and kisses already, and you just left for a few moments. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

Later that day, you bumped into Miwa as you were leaving your dorm. It was the weekend so you all had no classes and missions. She hesitantly called out a “Congratulations. You finally got together with Kamo senpai yeah?”

You looked at her in surprise. “How did you-”

“Todo senpai.”

“That man really doesn’t keep his mouth shut.”

◇◇◇

It was a different experience, having the other students tease the both of you about your new relationship as a real boyfriend and girlfriend. You felt weird by calling him your lover.

"I called it!" Mai proudly smirked down at you. "We all did Mai chan." Momo senpai giggled, bumping her hip with yours as you looked shocked over the bets they placed.

Noritoshi always had a soft smile for you. He recently managed his time better, finishing his studies very early so he could spend more time with you.

Not shy to take your hand whenever you meet in the hallways and drag you for a picnic under the huge Plum Tree or just to hug you quickly before going off to a mission.

You were more open, hopping up to him in the hallways and greeting him cheerfully. ‘It was nice’, you thought to yourself.

Ever the overthinker, you at times think of the secrets he mentioned having. Probably personal matters he wasn’t ready to talk about. That’s fine, you had your own fair share as well. Time will heal and bring whatever it may to the both of you.

◇◇◇

The Kyoto-Tokyo sister school goodwill event was drawing near. You and your fellow first years wished all your participating seniors good luck.

“I heard they also have a Special Grade 1st year student in Tokyo Tech.” You perked up at that, “Is that so?”

“I highly doubt they’d come though. Just like how you aren’t participating, Tsuchi. Usually 2nd and 3rd years are the ones participating. It is going to be held here in Kyoto Tech since we won last year.” Todo grinned.

You wondered about that.

◇◇◇

Just a few days before the goodwill event, Utahime texted you and said Noritoshi was injured from a mission. So of course you flew as fast as you could to his room, where he was being treated.

"Noritoshi!!" You wheezed out, entering his room in a burst of wind. You had come back from a lunch date with an old classmate from elementary.

You hurried over to his bedside and looked him over. He slowly turned to you, eyes widening. He smiled, "An angel is here."

You flushed and laughed out loud, "Noritoshi you've lost it. It's just me. Y/n." You brushed some stray hairs out of his face.

He continued staring at you dreamily, “Angel”. You were all dressed up, face fully made up. Rouge lipstick with a light touch of blush on your cheeks. You had your round shades on, prettily framing your face.

He used a free and uninjured hand to reach and cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch before pushing his arm back down. "You need rest." You said gently.

You placed your hands over his chest and activated your reverse cursed technique. He groaned as he felt his skin stitch back together. "Shhh, it will be fine."

He wasn't that badly injured thank goodness. “Angel, have you seen my y/n? I miss her.” He whined. You patted him on the forehead and shushed him with a quick kiss.

Why was he behaving like this?? You turned to the nurse packing their things from the corner, “I put him on anesthesia. He will be loopy for a bit.”

“Ah.” This might be a little bit fun. “Toshiii~ It’s me y/n how could you not recognize me?” You pouted. Noritoshi pouted and whined in return. The nurse pointedly ignored both of you and quickly left the room.

He stared at you with the biggest eyes he’s ever made, seemingly thinking hard. “Don’t think too hard, you’ll lose brain cells.” you whispered.

“Hold me.” He demanded not unlike a child asking for candy. And so you sat beside him and held onto his hand. You watched as he fell asleep, clinging onto your hand.

This loose-tongued and childish side to Noritoshi was just too adorable.

◇◇◇

Noritoshi stirred awake, seeing you so close to him. You were laying on top of his chest, one hand holding onto his.

He stared at your profile half sprawled over his blanket and reached to put a hand on your back and rubbed it soothingly. Then let his hand rest on the back of your neck while tracing small circles on it with the pad of his thumb.

You were so sweet on him. It was a wonder to Noritoshi, who felt as though he was always lacking in physical affection. To see someone sincerely take care of him without requesting anything in return was refreshing for a change.

He watched as you stirred, then your hand tightened in his and you brought it close to your lips, all while you were still fast asleep. Noritoshi’s eyes twinkled. What were you dreaming about? Was it about him?

He watched as you slowly woke up. “Mmmm Toshiii~” you blearily reached out for him. You were able to wash up and change your clothes while he was asleep.

He pulled you into his bed, making your half sprawl over his lap. “Why didn’t you get in bed with me? Surely your back must hurt? It’s late now, sleep with me.” You looked at the clock and to your surprise it was indeed late. 2am.

“Okayy” you were still whiny, half asleep, and slightly grumpy from waking up. You both settled in the bed and fell asleep holding hands.

◇◇◇

It was finally the day of the Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill event. You were all out, 1st, 2nd and 3rd years with Utahime sensei and Principal Gakuganji, waiting for the Tokyo group to arrive.

Then you felt this ominous presence from afar. You took a few steps back, cursed energy flaring and winds whipping around you. Everyone looked at you in concern and Noritoshi whispered as he squeezed your hand, "Angel, you okay?"

You still found it funny how he now takes to calling you his angel when it’s just the two of you after you told him about his embarrassing moment when he was loopy on sedatives.

You stared off at a distance. "Everyone... Something… big is coming." You didn't realize that you felt Rika's presence from afar. Everyone tensed and looked in the same direction you were as the Tokyo participants came.

There were some really loud 2nd and 3rd years, but the one that stood out was a rather reserved boy with black hair. He had a Katana bag hooked over one shoulder. And a massive curse looming over him. ‘How is that thing not exorcised yet?!’

"Yooooo Everyone from Kyoto hello!!"

That voice. Your eye twitched. "Nice to meet you all again." Gojo Satoru cheerily yelled. Introductions were exchanged. The group challenge on the first day is Capture the Flag. The details for the individual battles tomorrow are yet to be announced.

Everyone was surprised to hear that the first year, Okkotsu Yuuta, the special grade cursed human, was participating to even out the numbers.

Based on that amount of cursed energy…. Tokyo school might win this year, you thought grimly. 'As long as there are no casualties please.' You prayed to yourself. You wished Noritoshi good luck with a quick hug.

After the participants were dismissed and released to their positions, the Kyoto 1st year's followed the two principals and Utahime sensei.

"Neko-chaaaan! How cruel, you don't wanna greet me?" His damn voice was so fucking loud everyone in the vicinity turned to Satoru.

(His nickname for you was cute but the story wasn't. When you were 4 years old, the Tsuchi family cat always ran away from you. You tried to be more catlike to befriend it, which Satoru found hilarious. Ergo, he started calling you Cat or Neko chan.)

Your eye twitched again as always does with Satoru. "Toru nii, it's been a while." You said, looking at the man leering down at your figure. He pulled you in for a side hug and ruffled your hair. "I missed you loads, it's been a while huh. How's school?"

"Not too bad." You fixed and patted your hair back down, aware of the eyes on you.

"Mmm, I bet." His bright blue [six] eyes could see the red strings linking your pinky to Noritoshi's. "You got a boyfriend by any chance y/n?"

You stopped at that and looked up at him. "Did Hiroki tell you anything?" "Nup" he always pops his P's obnoxiously.

You looked to the side and murmured "I do."

"You have a boyf-ooms" You slapped your hand over his mouth, floating up to his height. You could practically see his blue eyes gleaming behind those white bandages. "Keep your voice down dimwit." You hissed.

He licked your hand. "You're gross as always Toru," you wiped it on his sleeve as you walked on air to match his height.

"You should have told me you got a boyfriend. Anywayss, my students are gonna kick ass. Yuuta is pretty strong and he's the type to go all out you know?" He nudged you.

"Noritoshi and the senpais won't go down without a fight." You said. “Heehhh, is that so?”

You caught up a bit with him, making small talk as you made your way to the viewing rooms.

◇◇◇

Miwa later pulled you aside, "You know Gojo Satoru?! Isn't he, like, super famous?!"

"Uhhh?? He is?? … uhm I don't know. But we are family friends, he's like a brother to me really." You said confusedly. "The Tsuchimikado and Gojo clans always got along. His dad and my dad are friends."

"Ahhh I see." She nodded. She was still unfamiliar with the Great 3 clans and minor clans of Jujutsushi so it was understandable for her to be curious.

The rest of you filed into the room. The teachers allowed all of you to watch on the screens, so that you can get familiar with the goodwill event.

"Psst! Y/n sit beside me." You laughed as Satoru eagerly patted the seat beside him, sounding more like a teenager than a teacher. You scooted over to his side as he brought out snacks, chips, and popcorn. You stared at him. "You think this is a movie?"

"It's free entertainment." He shrugged.

And the event started. You all watched on the screens as both schools fought against curses while defending their home base flag and trying to take down the enemy's flag.

Todo, of course, was on the front lines, recklessly plowing into Tokyo high's home base. Hakari, a 3rd year, was facing him off, somehow holding his ground against him.

Noritoshi was following Momo around, taking down curses and stopping the other team's students from charging in.

But before they knew it, Yuuta was on the other side, flag in his hands. It wasn't a quick match but a rather rough one. At the very least, no one was injured badly.

Your eyes watched Okkotsu’s movements. It was very obvious he was new to fighting, but his brute force of cursed energy played well to his strengths. You were looking forward to tomorrow's matches.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[kinnards]

Thank you so much for tagging me in 'send me a prompt and i'll write you a fic!' May I please request Buck and Eddie prompt where Buddie is already together and Ana makes a comment about Buck or the tsunami? I'd love to see protective Abuela and Eddie ❤❤

hey! i'm sorry i couldn't fit abuela into this but I hope you like it! i had a great time writing this prompt, and it turned out to be almost pure fluff. enjoy! send me a prompt and I'll write you a fic.

this right here, in a grocery store. [one shot, 1.4k, buddie, ao3]

Buck stares alternatively at the two boxes in his hands, taking his sweet time deciding which pasta brand to buy. He and Eddie are getting groceries for the week, along with Christopher, who is happily seated in the cart and has very seriously accepted the task of organizing the items in categories. Eddie has left them in the pasta aisle to go look for Christopher’s favorite cereal and they have agreed to meet at the fruit and vegetable section in two minutes- Buck has to make a quick choice, or else, Eddie won’t get him his quinoa chips.

“What do you think, Superman?” He calls out for Christopher’s attention, showing him both boxes, “Fusilli or farfalle?” Buck asks. The boy scrunches up his nose and rubs his chin between his fingers, thinking hard. It is a hard question, after all.

“I like the little bowties better,” Christopher answers in a serious tone, “I want that one.”

“Farfalle,” Buck corrects softly, handing him the box so he can place it between the bread and the tomato paste cans. “Alright, let’s get rolling.”

Christopher giggles as Buck pushes the cart and makes car noises, reaches out a hand to pat Buck's when they pass a shelf stocked with chocolate on sale. They share a knowing smile as they grab a couple of bags of M&M's.

They are reaching the fruit and veggie section, with Christopher babbling about wanting to get kiwis and tangerines when Buck spots Eddie, a beautiful looking woman standing next to him, facing Eddie so Buck can't see her face. She's sort of tall, slim, and tan, and her long dark curls cascade down her back, shiny and perfectly styled.

A strange feeling of uneasiness settles down in Buck's stomach- he's never been the jealous kind, but his relationship with Eddie is still kind of new (the romantic aspect to it, at least), and they haven't really announced it to the world yet, so he wouldn't blame him for getting hit on at the grocery store. Still, something's not right, and the feeling intensifies as they approach Eddie and Buck takes note of his tense shoulders and a tight smile. He's uncomfortable, eyes flicking from the woman in front of him and the end of the aisle. When Eddie finally sees them, he relaxes for a second before panic flashes in his eyes and he turns back to the woman, scratches his neck, and looks at his son and Buck again.

The woman turns around.

“Miss Flores!” Christopher exclaims, genuinely happy to see her, and she smiles wide, eyes crinkling cutely and all. Buck stops the cart a few steps before he crashes it against them.

“Hello Christopher,” she says, voice syrupy sweet and a little on the edge of childlike, and she crouches down to be on Christopher’s eye level, “long time no see.”

“Hey, Ana,” Eddie clears his throat, “you know Chris, and this is, uh, this is Buck. Buck, meet miss Ana Flores.” Ana directs her thousand-mega-watt smile at him now, and Buck tries not to cringe.

Eddie didn’t introduce Buck as his boyfriend, which, okay, fair, he can’t imagine how awkward it must be for Eddie to run into his ex-girlfriend who doesn’t know he swings both ways at the grocery store, but still. Buck has to pretend that his stomach isn’t tied in knots and slap a fake smile on his face, his mother’s ‘be nice, Evan’ echoing behind his thoughts. Buck takes a deep breath. He’s going to be nice; he can be polite and get out of this as fast as possible.

“Nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you, Buck," she says, but there’s something wrong in the way she says her name, laced with something Buck doesn’t have the time to dissect right now.

"Likewise," he manages to choke out. His skin feels like it's being crawled by ants.

“Miss Flores,” Christopher interrupts, and the three adults turn to look at him in the shopping cart, “Buck is the one who saved me from the tsunami!”

Buck’s stomach drops, suddenly

“Sure, sweetie,” she replies lightly- and God should strike him with lightning if that dismissal didn't make his blood boil- then turns back to Eddie as if Buck wasn’t there, and asks “He’s your best friend, right?”

Eddie bites his lip, his eyes flicker to Buck. He nods, silently communicating that he’s okay with whatever Eddie comes up with to protect them. Buck knows Eddie is not ready to come out publicly, and they decided to keep it inside the family for now- Christopher knows they are together, but they also had a very extensive conversation about what that meant and about talking to other people about their relationship. Their kid is amazing, and they never ask him to lie about their family- but Christopher does understand that his dad needs to be the one to tell people, for now. Buck would never let Eddie hide anything from his son or make him believe that there is anything wrong with their relationship and that it is something to be ashamed of.

Buck trusts Eddie, and that’s all that matters.

“Yeah, no, actually, we’re together now,” Eddie says, twisting the plastic bag he’d been holding in his hands nervously, “Buck is my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Ana’s face falls, and Buck’s heart speeds up. She looks nervously between the two of them, before settling in Buck again, only a trace of her fake smile left. “I’m happy for you, guys.”

“Thank you,” he utters, completely at lost for words- this is the last thing he expected. “We’re really happy.”

“Buck is the best!” Christopher says, tugging on Buck’s hand, so he lets go of the shopping cart handle to hold his small hand back. Looking down at the kid and his warm smile, every insecurity he has ever had vanishing and replaced by the overwhelming love he feels for him. The way Christopher loves him is something no one could ever take away.

He looks up, finding Eddie's eyes, giving him one of those looks, all soft and fond. It makes Buck feel seen, not just because Eddie had come out to his ex-girlfriend in the middle of a grocery store. They smile at each other, and for a second nothing else exists in their little bubble.

“Wow, yeah, I think- I think I better leave you to it,” Ana twists a curl behind her ear and clears her throat, breaking the spell.

“It was nice to see you, Ana,” Eddie replies with a relaxed smile, steps around the cart, and slides an arm around Buck’s waist. His chest swells with pride, he’s not ashamed to say he loves that Eddie feels comfortable enough to show not only Ana but everyone else around them that Buck is his partner. Buck leans into his boyfriend's hold, smiles brightly at the woman in front of him.

And, well, if he’s also enjoying the fact that Eddie is showing him off to his ex… well, that’s his business and no one else’s.

“You too, Edmundo. Take care,” and with one last smile and wave, she’s gone.

Buck lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the last knots in his stomach dissolving. He turns to Eddie and what he sees is probably the most adorable thing ever- a blush spreads all the way from Eddie’s neck and cheeks, avoiding Buck’s eyes, checking out the label of Buck’s pasta.

“What was that?” he asks smugly, just to pick on Eddie. He’s so fucking proud of his boyfriend right now, but he’s going to take advantage of his flustered state, or his name isn’t Evan Buckley.

“Well, you’re my boyfriend, aren’t you?” Eddie retorts, still not looking up, and Buck shares a glance with Christopher, who has turned in his seat and is covering his mouth as he giggles, and winks. Sneaking a hand around Eddie’s neck, he pulls him closer and places a wet smooch on his flushed cheek, mwah sound included.

“Gross, daddy!” Chris laughs, and Buck exchanges a look with Eddie- both thinking the same, a mischievous glint in their eyes- and instantly lean down to attack their kid with kisses all over his face.

Right here, Buck decides he doesn’t want big, public declarations of love or expensive gifts. Just this, their family, the reassurance of his hand on his waist and spending time together in something as mundane as grocery shopping with Christopher. Taking small steps together- coming out one person at a time, making Eddie feel safe enough to do it, to even hold him and kiss him in public.

This is all he needs.

-

taglist: @buddiextarlos @eddie-diass @sunbeambuck @twofirefighterdads @justsmilestuffhappens @firefighterhan @agenderbuckley @allison-usn126

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Gloved hand (Crosshair)

Summary: Crosshair found a way to get rid of his chip, and went looking for his brothers in the depot, fully aware of the confrontation that would follow.

No pairing or reader description, only the member of the Batch

Word count: 2761

CW/TW: ANGST; Death, trauma, guilt, violent memories/ nightmares, burns/scar, some swearing; I don’t know how graphic my style is, so if I forgot anything please tell me!

Tags: @allamarisss @loth-wolffe @imalovernotahater (you all asked 🤧)

@razena88 @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s (non of you asked but I thought you'd want to check it out since you reacted to my Crosshair post; if you don't want to be tagged just tell me and I'll remove it !)

Notes: I had to. Because you’re all nice and I love pain, so here is the Sad Hour: Crosshair Edition™; Enjoy! (aka, I hope you’ll suffer a bit)

PS: sorry about the little dots when I skip a line, it’s the only way I could well...skip a line. I’ll try to find another way for the future!

PPS: The Neighbourhood - Roll Call is the song I listened to while writing this 🤭

______________________________________

He knew they were waiting on him, on the move he would make. They didn’t know about his chip being removed – not yet – and he knew he only had one shot.

How ironic.

He was still wearing the Imperial armour, face covered by his helmet, rifle attached to his back. He could see the way Hunter tightened his fingers around the trigger, and he recognised that look; the one he usually gave to his opponents before he killed them. He could get away; Hunter was a good shooter and his senses did helped for that; but Crosshair was the marksman. He guessed by a simple look at the scenery that the shot would crush through his pectoral plates, and given the distance and the type of blaster, it would surely shake him out, but it wouldn’t kill him.

As much as he sucked at it, he had to resort to words. He wasn’t the Empire’s puppet anymore, and trying once again to threaten them…It was simply out of the question.

Slowly, he raised his hands to his helmet, grabbing the lower part of it. He waited a second, not sure about the short moment where his vision would be obstructed.

Come on, you don’t get to worry about getting shot. Take the damn bucket off.

He pushed it up his head, briefly closing his eyes as a ridiculous way to sooth his morbid thoughts. When he opened them up again, Hunter hadn’t moved an inch. He didn’t know how much time he had, so Crosshair dared to take a step forward. Then another, holding his helmet in one hand, keeping the other one on the plastoid covering his chest, gently taping it with a gloved finger.

He stopped at the fourth step. The Batchers tensed up, unsure of what his next move would be. Crosshair knew what he was doing.

T’s your time to shine, Cross.

“DC-17. Round it down to a 7 meters distance from the target, slightly move your arm to your left.” He taped on a small spot of his chest plate, never breaking eye contact with Hunter. “Make me proud.”

It was a bold move, he knew it too damn well. He forced himself to maintain eye contact with them, with him, as much as it scared the crap out of him. As much as he hoped, deep down, for his brother to take pit-

.

 It was quick, bright. Finger pressed against the trigger, Hunter noticed every wave in the sound of the shot as it echoed in the depot. He followed the blue deflagration as it got spit out of his blaster, sliding the air in a thin whistling, brushing past Crosshair’s left arm, hitting another clone further behind.

He didn’t know if it was the right decision; but he knew enough about Crosshair to try it.

“I said ‘to your left’” was the only thing that came out of Crosshair’s mouth as he turned his head to look at the man lying on the floor a few meters behind him. He wasn’t dead, and now they had to quickly evacuate.

But Cross was alive. For now.

“Tech, get in there and be ready to take off when I tell you to! Wrecker, you cover us. Crosshair.”

The sniper pulled out his own blaster, back turned to the Batchers, ready to shoot any intruder trying to rip him away from his family once again. He soon felt a firm hand grasping his shoulder and dragging him back. He didn’t fight it, didn’t look at it. His focus was on the men running in the depot, on the way he hit them with such precision it almost felt too easy.

He was the last one to get in the Havoc Marauder, still shooting as the door closed shut in front of him.

.

 “…Crosshair?”

His heart pounded so hard in his chest that for a moment, he thought it might go through the plastoid armour and crush against the wall. There was the next move. So easy to execute, yet so terrifying.

“Crosshair, look at us.”

It was the tone; too formal, almost polite. He hated it. But he obeyed anyway, slowly turning around to face his tattooed brother.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down and cut that crap.

Hunter remained silent for a moment, examining Crosshair’s face scarred by burns, his new shaved side and white patch on the side of his head. The violent pumping and barely shaky breath told him more than the stoic eyes he was staring at.

“How’d you do it?”

“A droid helped.” Hunter’s nod was the only answer he got.

Keep talking, di’kut.

“I-”

“I missed you.” confessed Wrecker. “I think we all did.”

Now it was his turn to nod. What could he possibly answer? ‘I missed you too, but mostly because my chip made me want to kill you.’?

You didn’t wanted it, you had no choice.

“You didn’t have a choice,” Echo got a bit closer to him, even though he couldn’t tell if it was a good idea. “We know you didn’t.”

“Now that you removed your chip, you’re out of risks.” commented Tech, trying to comfort him a bit.

Each second passing was getting him closer to the edge. He wasn’t looking at faces, he was looking at phantom targets, still feeling the stings stabbing his brain every time he hesitated before shooting at them. Their voices were hardly getting to him, they were so distant, probably a faint memory from a time where he still had control.

“…get you something to eat, and you’ll go take a shower. Works for you?”

“Yes, Sarge.”

He knew the small clap on his shoulder was more of a friendly kind than a brotherly one. He hated it. He deserved it.

.

.

 He never felt that uncomfortable while eating with someone before. Even lunches on Kamino’s cantina weren’t as awkward. Tech tried to initiate a small talk, mentioning their next mission, the supplies they would need to get, and Omega tried to keep him going by nodding and asking questions he knew were useless.

But really, it was just an excuse to avoid the talk. Given the situation, it would probably hurt less to just… confront him. Tell him he scared them, when he callously ordered Hunter to stand down and surrender, told his troopers to “aim for the kid”. Not that he didn’t know; he found the confession in their eyes every time they would look at him.

He barely ate, rolling a fresh toothpick between his gloved fingers as he weakly chewed on his food.

“I’ll take the first round tonight,” Hunter muttered, mostly for himself.

Crosshair slowly got up from his seat, putting his ration away, trying to avoid the stares. He slid his toothpick between his lips, nibbling a bit harder than usual on the wooden texture. All he had to do was turn around and leave the cockpit. He had done it countless time by the past, what’s one more?

He wanted to lay down and sleep his pain away, get drowned in the pillows and forget all about what happened. He took a few steps, pretended he didn’t flinch when a hand caught his own, but couldn’t bring himself to smile at Omega when she gently rubbed his knuckles.

She didn’t say anything, she simply followed him to the bunk beds. Crosshair could barely look at her, because every time he did he could only see the scared look she gave him when he ordered it.

Aim for the kid.

It was haunting; she was just a child, a mixture of a little sister and a daughter for the Batchers, and he tried to rip that away from them too.

His attention shifted to the beds when he noticed the lights around his. He could also see a glimpse of a plush – oddly familiar – and a soft blanket nicely pulled over the mattress.

“We – she needed a place to sleep, and you were gone so…”

Wrecker, who followed him too, was uncomfortable; he was the one who came up with the idea. As much as he missed Crosshair, he knew he needed to take care of his little one because she was here. But now, Cross was back.

“Keep the bed,” he murmured, “I don’t mind.”

And he meant it. He would have done the same if Wrecker, or Echo or whoever went missing like he had. The kid deserved a comfy place to rest, her life with them already being chaotic enough.

“I can sleep with you, I don’t mind. I can stay at the end of the bed if you’d prefe-”

“It’s fine, Omega.”

He painted a weak, yet gentle smile on his face, hoping for it to convince her. It did, because she nodded and held his arm against her for a few seconds as to hug it. Wrecker – and Echo later that night – offered him to sleep in their bed. “I can sleep with Tech if you want it all for yourself” the 501st vet assured him. But Crosshair declined each time, pretending that he would probably not sleep anyway tonight, just tonight, because he needed to get used to this place again.

In a way, it was true. He needed time to find his footing here, to get back to the way things used to be.

Don’t pretend it will go back to ‘how it used to be’. It could never.

.

 When everyone headed to bed, Hunter returned to the cockpit and found the sniper sitting on his own.

“I’ll take the first round, Crosshair. Go get some sleep.”

“I don’t have a bed,” he barely confessed, his usual sarcastic tone nowhere to be found.

“Take mine for now, I don’t need it before a few hours. Don’t discuss it,” he pursued when Crosshair tried to reply, “I’m not giving you a choice.”

It took him a second to realise how clumsy it sounded, but Crosshair spared him the embarrassment of an apology when he got up and nodded.

“Alright, sorry.”

Hunter grabbed his shoulder, unsure about his next move, but trying anyway.

“It’s…We can’t pretend nothing happened, but we’ll work through this. All of us,” and when he heard Crosshair’s heart pumping harder and his breath getting heavier, he added, “as a family.” Before letting go of him.

Crosshair couldn’t even speak anymore. If he tried, all that would come out would be confused babbling and an awkward throat clearing. He hoped on his brother’s heightened senses to read through him like an open book, throwing back one last look before he got back to the bunk beds. All the Batchers were already sleeping, peacefully wrapped in their blankets or holding their plushie against their chest. He sat on the edge of Hunter’s bed, his blacks still on, eyes locked on the soft lights emanating from his old bed.

.

 Hunter woke up when he felt a soft weight landing on his lap. The smell got him almost immediately, a mixture of gunpowder and iron.

“You should have surrendered.”

His eyes shifted to the slim shadow standing a few steps away, lurking on him with cold determination.

“Crosshair?” He looked down at the soft plush laying on him. Lula. Her head was almost ripped in half by a now barely fuming hole. He couldn’t hide the fear splashing his eyes, neither could he refrain his voice from breaking when he asked “what did you do?”

“I did what had to be done. This is why they put me in charge to track you. I’m efficient.”

Hunter shivered at the sick smile he could hear in Crosshair’s voice. His thoughts ran from the plush to Omega, to the bunk beds at the end of the hallway, to his brothers left unarmed at the mercy of a sniper who had none.

“You should have killed me in that depot.”

“Crossha-”

A quick thud filled the cockpit as a red, bright light stroked Hunter right through the chest. He fell back into his seat, unable to breathe, but way too aware of the burn on his skin, of the nerves flaming up under the chock and the heat, of his heart rapidly pulsing then slowing down in a macabre countdown. He got dizzy, eyes blurring out despite his desperate attempt to get them focused.

He struggled to keep his head up, until a gloved hand grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look up. He could guess the shapes of the helmet, the green and grey shades melting altogether as his eyes barely held open. As he felt his own heart stop, his last breath making him chock, he heard his brother’s voice taunting him, one last time.

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

.

.

  Pitch black. This is all Crosshair could see when he abruptly opened his eyes. The blanket was rolled up at his feet, his blacks soaked in sweat, and his head aching. A sudden terror grasped him as he held his temple, tripping off the bed as he tried to get up, muttering Hunter’s name. He choked up on the syllables when he realised he was sleeping in his brother’s bed, while the tracker was nowhere to be found. He found himself struggling for air, the same way he would if someone stabbed him repeatedly in the chest. He dragged himself to the refresher, locking the door as soon as he got in.

The bright light forced him to close his eyes for a few seconds, but once he got used to it he reached the tap. His hands, usually so precise and steady, where uncontrollably shaking, to the point of him getting cramps.

The cold water did nothing to help; he shivered to the wet contact, lightly gasping when he splashed his face, but did it again, and again, trying to wash off the pain of his body.

Did I killed them? Did I? What if I did, what will I do, what if I killed them, I can’t- I can’t lose them, not again, not this way, I-

His head was buried in his hands, and it demanded all his strength for him to look up in the mirror. He quickly regretted doing so.

He hated those scars. Mostly, what they represented, what they meant.

It means you tried to get them burned alive; you ordered for them to be burned alive by an active propeller. This is what they mean, this is what you did.

He hated his reflection, lurking and haunting him the same way his memory did. A phantom pain none of them could imagine.

You like to pretend they don’t get it, but they do. Their own brother tried to kill them. You did that, Crosshair; don’t put the blame on your victims.

“Kriff,” he bitterly chuckled, tears burning his eyes.

You did this to yourself. Take some responsibilities.

He tried to maintain eye contact with himself, fingers gripped so tight around the edge of the sink he could feel his muscles quiver. He didn’t have a choice, he knew that. The chip forced him, the Empire used him to do these terrible things.

If a gloved hand kills you, will you blame the glove, or the hand?

You’re the hand, Crosshair. Nothing you will ever say or do will change that.

Nothing.

“Shut the kriff up,” he gave up, angrily pushing himself away from the sink, but still catching a glimpse of tears running down his cheeks before he turned his head, defeated. “Keep the snide to yourself.”

He jolted when someone softly knocked on the door. He took a few deep breaths to calm down his pumping heart, wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, and opened the door.

“I didn’t find you in the bed,” Hunter explained while analysing his expression, “I thought you’d be in here.”

“I can take the next round.” Crosshair calmly responded.

“Mine’s not done yet.”

“Hunter, please I- let me take the next round.”

He couldn’t say which of the two, his muffled “please” or his begging eyes, convinced Hunter; but it worked and that was enough for him. He didn’t flinch this time, when his brother gently patted his arm; he even wished for a quick, warm embrace. But he doubted Hunter was ready to get affectionate with him so easily. Truth be told, he didn’t feel that comfortable either. It was a crave he couldn’t fill.

He still cracked a weak smile as Hunter nodded and returned to his bed to get some rest.

Crosshair dragged himself to the cockpit, his stomach twisting at the sight of the empty seat on his right. He fell into his own, a long sigh slipping from his lips.

.

Don’t fall asleep.

[tefilovesreading]

It’s a match! Part. 2

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: None, language but that’s it.

A/N: LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED. 

Edited by: @theamazingtomholland​ 

MASTERLIST // PART 1 // PART 3

“What do you mean he sent you a good morning text?” Jo asked, almost choking on her toast.

“He asked for my number last night,” Y/N explained, her hands shaking while she tried to unlock her phone, “and when I woke up, I had a text from him saying good morning and wishing me a good day.”

“Damn the boy is a keeper,” her friend whistled and winked at her after she read the message.

“He told me he wanted to FaceTime.”

She sat on the stool next to where her best friend was sitting and rested her chin on her hand. The butterflies in her stomach felt more like hundreds of bees buzzing fiercely in there. 

“And you?” Jo questioned with an intrigued look on her face, “do you wanna do it?”

“I think so,” Y/N answered, biting the inside of her cheek, “he’s really cute, and I had fun texting last night.”

“Well that’s a new one,” the ginger girl joked. All their friends knew how much Y/N hated texting, leaving messages on read for days, or taking absolutely forever to respond. She always felt weird texting, not knowing very well how to keep the conversation going over text.

“Tell him you have thirty minutes, and then you have to go do something else,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and Jo rolled her eyes, “that way if you don’t feel comfortable you have an easy exit.”

“And what if I’m enjoying it?” Jo looked at her as if she was trying to explain how the water cycle worked to a kid, “Jo I’m being serious!”

“In that case, my love, you hang up and call him again after you tell me everything.”

“Who said I was gonna tell you anything, uh?” Y/N smirked and blew her a kiss after her friend gave her an offended look.

“Whatever, Y/N,” Jo flipped her off, “just tell him your professor was sick or something like that.”

“You’re a lifesaver, did I tell you that?” Y/N kissed her friend’s cheek and then jumped off, “I’m gonna go take a shower, see you later.”

“See you later, babe,” Jo said, “don’t forget to eat!”

“I won’t!” Y/N yelled, on her way to the bathroom they shared.

Y/N: Good morning! Hope you have a great day too

She smiled satisfied at her reply and hit the send button.

Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she felt so giddy about a guy, it was exciting, to say the least. Charlie seemed like an easygoing person and really easy to talk to. Sure she was nervous talking to him, but who wouldn’t? The guy was super cute and so nice to her, she already knew she’d be crushing hard.

Thirty minutes later, she was on her way to class with time to go to her favorite coffee shop and have a quick breakfast.

Charlie: Didn’t think you’d answer me so early hahaha Y/N: I have a class in like 20 minutes, wouldn’t have woken up this early if i didn’t have class lol Charlie: So you’re not a morning person Y/N: Oh no, absolutely not!!

She smiled at the boy in the cashier and laughed softly when he asked her if she was ordering the same thing she always did.

“Oh, can you add a brownie please?” Y/N asked politely, while she looked for her card on her bag. After paying for her food, she went to one of the tables in the back.

Charlie: Noted! I swear i try to not wake up early but i can’t Y/N: I bet you’re the kind of friend that wakes everyone up with a lot of noise  Charlie: How did ya know that hahahaha Y/N: I was just guessing, but you do seem like a loud person Charlie: I am, i won’t try to deny it Charlie: What about you??  Y/N: Mmm Y/N: It depends Y/N: But my laugh is extra loud, so I can’t say I’m a quiet girl

“Vanilla latte!” Y/N put away her phone and stood up to get her order.

“Thanks, Dylan,” she thanked the boy and grabbed a few napkins before making her way back to her table. 

Charlie: I bet your laugh is really cute

Her cheeks were burning after that message, and it took her a couple of minutes to tame the butterflies in her stomach before she was able to type a response. Because as much as she wanted to laugh it off and change the topic, she knew he was flirting with her and if she didn’t flirt back, their conversation was basically dead.

Y/N: Guess you’ll have to find out yourself ;).

That was a nice reply, right? She screenshotted their chat and sent it to Jo. If anyone knew how to flirt while texting, it was her best friend.

Y/N: How does it look? Is it too much?? Too little?? Y/N: H E L P

Jo’s response was quick as always. One of the many reasons she loved her.

Jo: Girl it’s fine Jo: Stop worrying about it Jo: It’s mysterious and a good way to tell him you wanna FaceTime Y/N: Ok ok thank you love ya Jo: Love you more  

Checking the hour on her phone, Y/N finished her bagel and gathered her stuff. She waved Dylan goodbye and left the coffee shop. She spent more time than she expected to in there and if she didn’t hurry she’d be late for class. 

It was times like this one that made her regret not knowing how to drive because even if all her classmates liked the Lyft program they had for free, she still felt unsafe getting in the car without a friend.

Back in the day, when she was still dating Lance, he’d made sure to call her and talk to her during the whole ride to wherever Y/N needed to go just to make her feel safe. After all, he was never a bad boyfriend, their paths just went in different ways and they both wanted different things in life.

Charlie: Yeah i guess Charlie: What if i call you later when you’re done with your classes??Charlie: No pressure

She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks for the second time in less than an hour and had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling. 

Y/N: Sure, i’ll let you know once i’m done Y/N: But i have to say bye for now Y/N: Gotta pay attention haha Charlie: Get that degree! Charlie: Talk to you later!

Focusing on whatever her professor was saying was a hard task, she just wanted to pull her phone out and text Charlie, see what he was up to and get home as soon as possible, so they could FaceTime.

Sitting on the edge of her seat, she couldn’t help but bounce her leg to relieve the eagerness rushing through her veins. She still had fifteen minutes left, and then she’d be sprinting out of the classroom and going back to her apartment.

“Dude, do you gotta use the bathroom or what?” Sadie, the girl she always sat with during class, whispered through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” she apologized, crossing her legs to stop herself from bouncing her leg. Although the new position didn’t stop her from moving her foot. 

“What’s up with you?” Sadie snorted once she realized Y/N couldn’t sit still.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, scribbling on her notebook the pages she needed to read for the next class, “I just wanna go home.”

“But you have never been this eager to leave this class,” the girl commented without looking at her, too focused on taking notes, “you love this class.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N let out a sigh and checked the hour on her watch, “I just don’t feel like sitting here right now.”

Her classmate didn’t make another comment about her eagerness to leave the classroom, she just nodded her head as if she was telling her she understood.

“I think that’s all for today, guys,” the professor mentioned, leaning on the desk, “have a good day, and don’t forget to read the articles I mentioned.”

Y/N hurried to gather her things and waved Sadie goodbye before walking as fast as she could to the door. She needed to leave before the halls flooded with students. Y/N considered taking the stairs instead of the elevator but knowing how clumsy she could be, she opted for the latter. Falling down the stairs wasn’t on her plans.

Twenty minutes and a mile later, she dropped her keys on the bowl next to the door of her apartment and kicked off her shoes. She checked her out in the full-length mirror Jo had in their living room and shrugged. Charlie knew she was a college student, and it wouldn’t be weird to see her wearing a hoodie with her college’s logo, also, she was comfy and didn’t want to change into something else. 

She fixed her hair and made sure she didn’t have smudged mascara under her eyes and then made herself comfortable on the couch.

Y/N: Just made it home

Y/N: That was one hell of a long class haha

She bit her nails, the nervousness kicking in while she waited for a response from Charlie. Maybe he was busy now that she wasn’t. God if their schedules didn’t let them at least FaceTime, she felt like she’d start crying and delete the app. It wasn’t like she was talking to other guys though.

Charlie: Finally!! Charlie: Wanna FaceTime?? Or are you tired?

“Fuck no,” she whispered to herself before she started writing her reply.

Y/N: Nah! Let's FaceTime

Her heart started pounding on her chest when the video call entered and the phone started vibrating in her hand.  

“Shit, shit, shit,” she cursed before putting a smile on her face and answering the call. “Hey!”

Holy shit. His pictures didn’t make him justice. 

“How you doin’?” Charlie said and her cheeks blushed.

“It’s that a Friends reference?” she asked trying to hide her smile.

“I swear I don’t mean it in that way,” he laughed, and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made her heart flutter. “But seriously, how was your day?”

“It was good even though I hate waking up early,” the way Charlie was looking at her with so much attention, even if it was through a screen it  made her feel so confident, “I had breakfast at this little coffee shop near my apartment and then went to class.”

“But that sounds like a nice morning,” Charlie mentioned, his sweet smile never leaving his face.

“What were you up to anyway?”

“Not much actually,” he shrugged and the gesture made him look young, “I went for a run, then I had to film some tapes for a few auditions, and now I’m chilling.”

“You’re an actor,” Y/N pointed out, not even surprised about the new information he just revealed. It was Los Angeles after all.

“I am,” he smiled, and she swore she could see a pink tint on his cheeks, “I started back in Canada when I was about fourteen or fifteen.”

“Any chances I’ve watched it?” Charlie scrunched his nose and shook his head.

“Maybe, if you are into foreign films,” Y/N tilted her head confused at his answer, “It’s in French.”

“You learned how to speak in French for the movie?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows together when Charlie started laughing.

“I grew up speaking French and English,” he explained with a soft smile, “I’m French Canadian.”

“That makes a lot more sense now,” she laughed off her embarrassment, “I’m gonna blame the fact that I woke up early today. I’m not this dumb, I swear.”

“Don’t worry,” he said and the smile faded just enough for her to notice his intense stare, “I thought it was cute.”

She bit her lip at his words and tried to look away from the screen, but Charlie’s eye contact felt as if he was looking right into her soul and she couldn’t break that connection even if she wanted to. And she definitely didn’t want to do that.

tagged: @chevyimpala00067​ @samanthawilliamspring​ @searchingunderthestars @luke-patt @moneybagmgk @angisbr @happinessinthedarkesttimes @knitsessed @cordeliascrown @crybabyddl @phantompogues @the-romanian-is-bae @doaspeggy-says