#idek what this is i so hope its okay?

[caruliaa]

in the alterante universe were s3+4 of cs are good im making a carmen yoyok amv right now

[dragvndreams]

... okay so mobile app.. colour pallete. I can go in and pick what I want the content theme I want.. but it's not even there when I go back to the dash??? help pls or it sort of is there but only in the phone bar (back, close, view all open apps). The actual dash is still blue??

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

God ever since reading A Gilded Cage I cant get the thought out of my head of a part 2 where Reader doesn't see Jason for a few days after the revelation. Like maybe he thinks he's being kind and giving us some time to process, maybe he's on his angst again, or maybe some outside factor has taken his attention so the only time he's able to visit is while we're asleep.

And the whole night of the reveal feels like a fever dream when we wake up but there's a blanket draped over us and a fuzzy little kitten purring up a storm on our chest (in my heart his name is Bean (short for Toebean)), so we're at least kind of sure it happened. But as the time passes with no sign of Jason our certainty begins to wane and until we finally get fed up and write on the notepad the first thing we've asked for since that night: "You."

Or something like that idek okay I've been over here clawing at my walls frothing at the mouth I never really even liked ak!Jason before reading your stuff and now I'm feral for him and its all your fault and I'm not even mad about it

A Glimmering Collar

AKA Part Two of this series. Ahh, nonnie, you literally cooked with this. I love when my fics inspire people enough to keep thinking on them! Seriously, ty for dropping these ideas in my inbox cause I had nothing going on in my brain for a part two initially. Hope you enjoy!

~2.6k words

You wake up to something tickling your nose. Your body feels heavy, your mind even more so. Nothing in you is ready to open your eyes, to face the fact that last night could all have been a dream. That he isn't– that was just a dream.

Something soft flicks your nose again, and you force your eyes open. You blink hard once. Then twice. It's a kitten. It's tiny, and it's sitting by your face. Every few seconds, its tail sways and brushes your nose.

Oh. You sit up slowly, trying not to frighten the small thing. It looks at you contently over its shoulder and meows. The kitten stretches as you stare at it, then plops itself directly on the blanket resting over your lap.

Huh. There's a blanket you definitely don't remember grabbing sprawled over your legs. You carefully reach down to pet the kitten's head. Your heart melts a little when it nuzzles your fingers and purrs.

You look around the room slowly. Nothing else looks different. The notepad is still in place, but the kitten and blanket all point to one thing. Last night was real. Jason is alive. Jason is the Arkham Knight.

You're trying to wrap your brain around that when the door flies open, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

"Good morning!!" A flurry of voice call from the doorway. Your eyes widen as three brightly dressed people strut their way into your apartment, "Are you ready for your shopping trip, hun?"

"My– excuse me?" You stumble out, tucking the kitten to your chest as you stand.

They giggle, and one of them steps forward, "Your shopping trip, sweetie! And spa day, of course. Oh, ha, we haven't even been introduced, have we? I'm Krystal with a K, she's Destini with an i and he's Robbi also with an i."

Robbi huffs and walks up to you to pet your kitten, "Why can't you ever introduce Destini second? She can be Destini also with an i, ya know."

The other girl walks up to you as well and picks affectionately at your clothes, "Because it's alphabetical that way, Robbi. Now you better go get dressed, we have brunch reservations and mimosa plans!"

"I– sorry? What?" You ask, eyes darting between the three of them. Whatever this is, you can't keep up. You've barely processed Jason kidnapped you, and now you're supposed to go get a massage and drinks?

"The boss wants you to go out," a flat voice cuts in. You're the only one that stiffens at the sight of two large men stepping through the door.

Krystal speaks up, "We're here to make sure you have a good time! And Mack and John are here to keep us safe!"

"Mack and John," You echo weakly.

"Your body guards, silly," Destini chirps, ushering you to your room. She plucks the kitten from your hands, "Now get dressed! Wear something nice!"

You stare at the door as she shuts it. What just happened? You hear them chattering happily in the kitchen, idly talking about pregaming your shopping trip.

Your whole mind is a mess, and you sluggishly get ready, thoughts whirling. You've barely talked to soul since you were kidnapped, and now you have five new names to remember, a kitten, and a day out.

You're not exactly sure if you should be unsettled or grateful at how quickly Jason worked to get you what you asked for. By the time you've opened your bedroom door, Krystal, Destini and Robbi are passing around a flask, and playfully trying to get your 'bodyguards' to drink it.

You wonder what they must think of all this. Who they think you are. You're struck with the realization that Jason must be paying them to entertain you today.

You don't get to linger on the thought before Robbi hooked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the door, "Let's gooo, the brunch place we're going to does the best pineapple mimosas. Or cherry, if that's your thing."

"Wait," Mack– or John, you're not exactly sure which one is which– stops you, "Boss wants you to wear this."

The girls and Robbi coo in awe when Mack opens a box, revealing a glittery, jaw-dropping choker. You waver at the sight of it. It's not that it doesn't match what you're wearing. You'd dressed up like Destini suggested, but it feels like some kind of trap.

You reluctantly pick up the necklace, eyeing how it catches the light, "Is it– are sure it's safe to wear this out?" Safety isn't really what you're concerned about at the moment.

You're more worried about the crushing weight that this means more than you understand.

John nods once, "There won't be any problems."

Krystal happily plucks the necklace from your fingers, and before you have time to argue, she drapes the necklace around your throat. "It's beautiful, hun. Just like you. Let's go get you something to eat," her voice is soft, measured, and full of so much understanding it makes you want to cry.

You don't know much they know, but when she hooks her arm with yours to guide you out the door, you have a feeling there's more awareness than their bubbly attitudes let on.

The day ends up being wonderful. Being around people, out under the sun (the sun Gotham does get), was rejuvenating. You had fun, joked, smiled, and for a day, it was almost like you didn't have a prison cell to go back to.

The food was delicious, the spa relaxing, and you didn't have to carry back a single bag. Krystal had flashed a black card at every payment, every place ever could want to shop at, reassuring you it's all been taken care of.

But the time you've collapsed on the couch, exhausted but content, the uneasy feelings from this morning are gone.

You settle on the cushions to wait for Jason. To thank him for listening or to yell at him for still keeping you here, you're not exactly sure yet.

But he doesn't come, you fall asleep in your expensive necklace and pretty clothes with one hand petting your kitten. He doesn't come the next day either, at least not while you're awake, but Krystal, Destini, and Robbi do.

Your friends, the people being paid to entertain you are nice, perfect even. They're exactly what you would have asked for.

Your kitten is perfect too, it cuddles with you at night and nuzzles under your chin after you're left alone, when the unease finds its way back to you.

It's been days since you've seen him. It's starting to feel like a lifetime. You know he comes back after you fall asleep, he moves things. You think it's his way of showing that he listened, that he came back because you asked.

The notepad, the one you haven't written on since that night, shifts closer to you on the glass table if you sleep on the couch.

The glimmering choker gets pulled out of the drawer every time you try to put it away. Your kitten has a growing collection of toys and things to climb on.

It's obvious he's visiting, so why won't he let you see him? Day five of dancing around each other breaks you. You want to see him, want to talk to him, and understand. You want Jason.

Your hand shakes a little, when you go to write on the notepad, and when you wake up the next morning, the paper is blank again.

You wait. You wait some more. All day you wait for him. No one else comes. It's strangely quiet, with just you and your kitten. You've just about given up, collapsed in your bed, when the glowing whites of his helmet catch your attention.

You sit up quickly and throw your legs off the bed as you stare into the doorway, "You came."

"Did you mean it," he asks, any emotion he's feeling hidden by the aggravating modulator.

"Mean what," You question, standing off the bed to walk closer to him, "Will you take the mask off?"

He doesn't move for a moment, just takes in the sight of you. The silence that drags almost makes you regret the question, but he carefully pulls off his helmet, "What you wrote. That you wanted me."

"I– yeah, Jason. I haven't– it's been days since I saw you," You only notice mid sentence that his hand is reaching for your face, it makes your voice waver. "You never answered any of my questions," You finish weakly.

His hand stills and he drops it, "Questions. That's what you wanted?"

You nod a little, searching his face for any hint of what he's feeling, but he gives nothing away.

He sighs softly, and looks away, adjusting his helmet under his arm. You think he might look disappointed, "I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

"Why not," You question softly, worried to push him away.

Jason turns his focus back to you, "I just need you to stay here. Please," he sighs out your name, and his hand twitches as if to touch you, "Don't fight me on this."

"That's not fair," You mumble, "Why am I here, Jason? You know I would have listened if you came to talk to me instead of– this."

Silence falls again, and he steps past you into your room. He sets his helmet on your dresser and picks up the choker resting on the wooden surface, "I wish you would wear this. I picked it out for you."

"Jason," You start, tracking his movements.

"I know," he cuts you off, "but I told you, you don't need to understand anything." You stiffen when he steps back towards you and guides you to turn around.

The air leaves your lungs as his gloves brush over your skin. He sets the necklace around your throat, and even after it rests heavy against your skin, his touch lingers.

"You just need to stay here. It's safe. I've given you everything you've asked for, and everything you haven't," Jason says softly, stepping out from behind you. His gaze lingers on your neck for a moment, and the stifling, unexplainable feeling sets back into your gut.

Your words stick in your throat. There's a sense of danger, one that doesn't make sense. Jason wouldn't hurt you. Not the Jason you know. But is this the Jason you know? The thought makes you want to tear the choker from your skin and throw it at him.

"It feels like a collar," You say quietly, and your breath hitches when his gaze snaps go yours, "I mean, it's pretty. Really. But, it feels– like it's more," You stumble out.

He nods slowly, and he doesn't stop himself from touching you this time. His fingers trace the choker, linger over your collarbones, brush along your pulse, "Maybe it is."

You blink at him, every thought flying from your brain, "What?"

He hums softly, hooking a finger under the shiny jewels to draw you closer, "Does that scare you? Knowing that you can't leave? Knowing that no matter how pretty these are, it's just another way to keep you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," you say instead, it sounds like you believe it, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

"I don't want to," He admits, fingers leaving your throat to trail up your jaw, "but I probably could."

"I don't believe that. I remember–" He tuts, tapping your cheek. Your heart drops when you realize he's mirroring where his own brand is.

"I'm not what you remember," he says firmly, before whispering your name, "I'm not that Jason. Not really."

"Then who are you," You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer. You want to pretend he's still something you know.

His eyes dart over your face, then back down to the necklace, "I'm still Jason. But I'm also the Arkham Knight."

"What does that mean," You push, reach up to grab his wrist, demanding his attention, demanding real answers.

"It means that you stay. It means that I give you what you want. Everything and anything except leaving," he says, voice lowering to something kinder, gentler, "it'll make sense eventually. You'll be happy here. Safe."

"Will that make you happy?" You ask, fingers tightening on his wrist. Half of you wants to pull him away, stop him from tracing patterns over your cheek, but the other part of you wants to press his hand closer.

Something flicks in his eyes at your words, "Yes."

"Will it keep you safe?" You murmur, eyes locked on his.

He doesn't answer, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment, "Safety is an option I don't have."

"It could be, if you wanted it," You say, dropping his wrist. It must be true. Even with all the secrets he's keeping, his evasive disappearing act, he could take off the armor. Leave behind the new symbol engraved over his chest.

He laughs a little and swipes his thumb under your eye, "I'm glad that you don't understand. It's good, that they didn't twist you into something unrecognizable."

"Understand?" You prompt, unsettled by his laughter.

"That they need to pay. All of them do," he smiles a little, it's a mockery of the one you remember. Jason traces the choker one last time before stepping back.

"You're leaving," You say, not a question, a statement of fact. He's leaving, without explaining anything again.

"I am," he affirms, moving to grab his helmet.

"I want you to stay," You breathe out and he freezes in place.

He exhales softly and faces you again, "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do. I want you to stay," You repeat, reaching out to push his helmet back towards the dresser.

"And then what?" He asks lowly, a warning, "What do you expect to happen?"

It makes you waver, "I– I don't know. But it's what I want."

It's another long moment of nothing before he answers, gesturing towards the bed, "Go to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

He nods at your question, unceremoniously dragging the chair from your desk to your bedside.

"Is that going to be comfortable–" You begin, settling yourself in the bed.

"You're overthinking it," he mumbles, waving at you to lay down. You do, watching as your kitten jumps into his lap, curling up like this is something that happens all the time. (You have the feeling it is) "Have you named him," he asks quietly.

"The kitten? Mm, no. Wanted you to," You say softly, carefully not to unsettle either of them.

"I wouldn't be good at it," Jason protests, eyes flicking between you and the kitten.

"I don't mind," You murmur, "anything's better than 'kitten'."

He pauses, so quiet and still you think he won't answer, "Bean," he mumbles, reluctant as the newly appointed Bean cuddles into his armor.

You smile, "Bean's a good name."

He doesn't answer, seemingly engrossed with watching the kitten.

You take him in for another moment, memorizing his face before closing your eyes. It's not an accident that you leave your palm open and face up by the side of the bed.

There's no more pleasantries exchanged, no sweet goodnights or the gentle touches against your face you've grown used to. But just as you finally start to drift off, as darkness finally draws you to rest, a warm, rough hand weaves itself into yours and squeezes.

Part Three

[martyrlamb]

✶ when the clock strikes / leon kennedy

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: you’re starting to think a certain agent might be faking his injuries to see you.

tags: sfw, pure fluff, a bit of angst as a treat, love at first sight basically, silly workplace love story, nurse!reader, 1 year post re4r!leon, no use of y/n, extremely mildly passively suggestive, leon takes his shirt off twice (woohoo!), kissing, swearing, leon is awkward as hell, you are too though so it’s okay, description of bruises, cuts and a muscle knot (not detailed), medical talk, slight mention of gore and blood, reader has a backstory, reader has a mother.

note: i blinked and suddenly there were 8k words in my doc idek how that happened. im actually so nervous to post because this is my first one shot ever!! my cherry has been popped… but also apologies if things are kind of all over the place bc im still trying to get the swing of it all. trying to write in the present tense was like being beat over the head repeatedly so im sure theres many grammatical mistakes in that department

word count: 8.5k (got possessed sorry)

Everyone thought you were crazy when you accepted the offer. 

It is crazy—but you aren’t stupid. You knew what you were getting into a long time ago as a nurse; people get hurt, and then you save them. Clockwork.

Years ago, you started studying to be a nurse in some middle of nowhere midwestern school. You remembered the rolling hills and the ungodly heavy blankets of snow that fell during the winter months, the fallen leaves that the snow covered. It was all so peaceful for a while… until the outbreak.

You never saw it coming, no one did, really. At least, you hope no one predicted the atrocities that were about to be witnessed by thousands of innocents without warning.

Gnashing teeth and hands with dried blood that streaked down arms like veins plagued the memory of that point in your life. It was surreal to believe that you got up that morning and made your breakfast like any other day, you slid your shoes on and grabbed your keys, and then your foot hit the front porch and the trajectory of your life changed permanently. 

The virus started as a woman with red-ringed eyes and pallid skin that reflected off of the blinding overhead lights—she looked visibly ill. That’s all that mattered at the time. You were actually the one who situated her and her husband in their room, he smiled at you and thanked you for your time and you scribbled down notes before hanging the clipboard and leaving the room for the doctor. The screeching horror music plays when you get to this part of the memory.

A type of calm before the storm. You hold your breath every time.

A few hours later people started screaming, and someone—something ran out of that room and wrenched its grip on the first person it saw. Blue scrubs dyed a nasty crimson, like crushed raspberries on cloth. The next part is a blur of running, watching your coworkers die, and using your medical expertise to help anyone who needed it. People were hurt. You saved them.

Like you said, clockwork. You try not to think about it too hard.

By the time help came, you had cramped a large handful of survivors—albeit, injured survivors—into a small house that was a mile or two from the hospital. Your quick thinking protected many people that day, and your skills were recognized.

A week prior, you were a simple nursing student who was lucky enough to be placed in a hospital, and by the next Sunday, you were being offered a position as a medic with the Anti-Umbrella Pursuit and Investigation Team. You finished your schooling, you got your specialized training, and now you’re on your way to your first assignment out of the country.

So, granted, maybe you are a little crazy for accepting such a prestigious and dangerous position after your humble beginnings. Your mother never ceases to remind you of this, with what little information you were allowed to tell her.

Iceland? she said, pulling her lips into a line. Are you crazy?

You begin to think that you are now that you stand in front of the base, arms tucked around yourself and teeth chattering as a sergeant points you around like one of his troops. Between the hustle and bustle of agents hurrying around and the amount of civilians sitting beneath the large, brown medical tent, you understand why they needed all the help they could get.

Things in Iceland were bad apparently; Umbrella thought the remote location would protect what little was left of them, and their research, from being exposed. Unfortunately for them, (and fortunately for everyone else) the AUPIT caught wind of what was happening and vowed to put a stop to it. You, freshly out of training, were sent to help with the sudden influx of displaced non-combatants and wounded agents.

Within the hour of the helicopter landing, you settle in and pull your cold weather scrubs on. 

There aren’t many other nurses—only two—and neither of them seem to be very fond of you. The head nurse is older and straight-laced, following procedure, not mingling with you unless she has to. You don’t think you’re ever going to be put on a shift with the other nurse, but they spare you a few ireful glances. It’s  like they could smell the fresh blood, and the scent made them turn their noses.

Nonetheless, you weren’t there to socialize, so you rolled up your sleeves and did your job, trying to ignore the passive aggressive looks being thrown at you from left and right. This kind of mutual ignorance worked for about three days, until you were placed on the night shift… every single night. 

Before you came along, it was determined that the night shift could be manned by one person, as injured civilians were sent to the safehouses by nightfall and nearly all of the agents were either out on work or taking a much needed rest. There was no reason for both nurses to be awake when one could conserve their energy and rest while the other worked. So, most nights you spent alone, sitting by the fire in the back of the tent as you waited for the sun to come up.

One of those nights crept up on you again. You bounce your foot against the ground until your ankle aches, sitting in a lawn chair next to the fire with a wool blanket draped over your shoulders. Nothing chirps in the distance like the environment you’re used to, the only noises that float through the air are the wind rustling bare-armed bushes and your own breathing. There was a rip in the tent whistling, too, but you’d be damned if you let the incessant noise drive you insane. You were scared of the eerie silence for the first few days, but that quickly became replaced by the complete boredom that followed it.

You blow a raspberry as you spin a pen in your ungloved hand, fingers numb and stretched stiff with cold. I’ve ought to ask someone for a book, you thought to yourself, or a new job. You immediately push the second contemplation out of your head like it was something dirty and sat up a little straighter; your annoyance made sense, but this is what you wanted to do with your life. You want to help people in need.

Not that there were many people around.

In the distance, like divine intervention, you hear the crackle of wheels against snow, and a black mini-van rolls to a stop in front of the tent. A scuffle inside ensues for a moment, then the doors open and a man comes hobbling into the shelter with his arm over another man’s shoulder. 

You nearly fall out of your seat with how fast you stand up and stride over to the men, assisting the injured one onto a cot. 

“What happened?” you ask, pushing a cart of equipment to his bedside.

The uninjured one remarks from beside you, “Some snow gave way and he went down this hill with some pretty nasty bushes at the bottom.” His voice is quick and clicky. He looks young.

Clearly, they’re two agents, judging by the leather holsters strapped around their waists and shoulders. You purse your lips and place a lantern on the cart, gently inspecting the injured agent. There’s thorns lodged along the entirety of his left side, looking a bit like a child’s crude attempt at art with toothpicks and styrofoam.

He grunts when you gently lift his arm to check underneath, and you mutter an apology before you turn to the other agent. “I can take this from here.”

The agent nods and spins on his heel, disappearing into the darkness once he stepped out into the open air. 

You turn your attention towards the man in front of you and pull on a pair of gloves, the latex makes a sharp snapping noise when you let go. His intense gaze follows your movements with great intrigue—or suspicion… you couldn’t really tell. You pick up a pair of tweezers and set them on the cart. You also finally got a good look at the wounded agent.

Blue eyes that strike down what little defenses you have and brows that spend their time permanently creased, almost erasing the space between them while he inspects you. His ability to make you feel thoroughly grilled with a simple fixated stare would have made you squirm years prior, but now you merely stare back with your eyebrows lifted. The blonde—possibly light brown haired, the darkness didn’t give much way in the form of colour—man averts his eyes first, as if he is caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive, but that’s not your focus right now.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, flicking on a flashlight to check his pupils. Healthy, good. He squints at you through the beam.

“Like I fell into a thorn bush.”

Looks like someone feels funny. You deadpan at him, unamused with the sarcasm while you try to help. Your expression beckons a better answer and he backpedals.

The man’s head bobs subtly, like a scale in his mind is weighing his thoughts on either side, and then he says, “I’m just fine.”

“Are you dizzy? Nauseous?”

“Fine.”

“Okay,” you reply, blowing out a not-so-inconspicuous huff of annoyed air that swirls above you in the cold. The agent raises his brow at your reaction but doesn’t seem too keen on speaking on it. “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, but it’s going to be a lot of poking and prodding.”

He lets out another grunt that could have possibly been an Mhm… but you aren’t sure. You hold the tweezers between your fingers and begin to pluck them out, placing them on the metal pan on your cart. Clink, clink, clink. They fall from the tweezers with tiny noises.

To your surprise, he doesn’t writhe or make much noise, only occasional grunts and sighs and Shit’s under his breath when you pull at particularly deep thorns lodged in his arm. 

Even for an agent, his arms are an impressive size, which means a lot more surface area to extract from. Not that you really mind, as you would have helped him either way, but surely you would feel differently if you were in his shoes.

However, the silence is… awkward; sitting there with your face inches from his huge arms—he could definitely feel your breath fan across the surface with how his skin dances with warmth and goosebumps and you do not want the attractive agent to focus on that. So, you break it with a question.

“You weren’t wearing a jacket?” A valid query, all things considered.

He blinks at you like it was obvious. “It came off.”

“Oh,” is all you say until you extract the last thorn from his arm and begin to slide the leather shoulder holster off of him. “I just need to take this off.”

He frowns slightly, and you realize his brows had been furrowed this whole time because that was all his face seemed to know how to do. When his expression changes, you stop.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Taking it off so I can look under your sleeve.”

“Why?”

“You could’ve pulled something and I need to bandage you,” you pause. “Is that okay?”

Maybe you wrongly assumed that he had done this a million times. Don’t get you wrong, you know how resilient agents had to be and how good they were at their jobs, so it isn’t like you thought he got hurt often… But with a short glance into his eyes, you could tell he’s a hardened delegate with years of experience under his belt. Wasn’t he bound to need help occasionally?

The man gives you a slight nod and shrugs off the holster; it falls to the bed with a soft thud from the weight of the knife tucked into the leather. 

His muscles tense under your fingers when you roll the black sleeve over his shoulder. The feathered, pale edge of a bullet scar peeks out from beneath the dark clothing and it makes you wonder how he managed to get it. A mission? Probably. It looks old. You’ve seen scars of all kinds at that point, and each of them held a story that ended in pierced flesh. 

They remind you that they will never not be where they came from—your own scars will never not be where they came from. You shake the thought out like a stubborn rock in your shoe.

“Lucky you, it doesn’t look like you pulled anything in your shoulder,” you comment under your breath.

“If this is luck, I’d like to see what happens when I get unlucky.” For the first time, there’s humor in his tone—so faint you nearly miss it, but it makes you chuckle. When he isn’t huffing out responses, his voice almost sounds kind.

You rotate his shoulder slowly and inspect the length of his side, finding fewer thorns than the amount anchored in his arm. Still, your lips press into a line, pitying the fact that his bare skin will be exposed to the frigid, below-freezing air so you could remove them.

“Well, you should’ve knocked on wood,” you reply, “I’ll need you to take your shirt off so I can get the rest of the thorns out and check your ribs.”

Silently, the man hikes his shirt up and over his ribs for you, snaking his arm out of his sleeve and then laying on his side. 

As he comes down, stretching, he groans. You see his muscles tense under his skin when he inhales, the dips and divots of his torso flex involuntarily when the squall of air nips at his newly exposed skin. The surface holds blossoms of red and deep purple that litter themselves across his ribs like splotches of messy watercolor dripped onto paper. Scarlet scratches bleed pebbles that drip onto the fabric of the cot. 

You suck in through your teeth as you inspect the area. Even without the damage from the thorns, it doesn’t look good.

“Not good?” the agent questions as if he could read your mind. From over his shoulder, he turna his head to look at you.

“Not good. You bruised your ribs, I’d be surprised if one of them wasn’t broken.”

“I didn’t hear a crack.”

“It should be monitored for a day or two, at the very least.”

“I have to get back to work.”

“Look, I understand—“

“I’ll be fine.”

You sigh softly and remove one of your gloves to rub your face in exasperation. Unfortunately, this wasn’t your first rodeo with stubborn patients, so you slide on another glove and begin to pluck at the thorns in his torso. “You won’t be doing much work if you permanently damage them.”

He twists his head away from you again and grunts softly, muttering a short, “Okay.”

How articulate. You guess he doesn’t get paid to talk to people.

“Okay? As in…?”

“As in, fine,” he replies, then pauses for a moment as if to prove a point. “But I’m sure you have better things to do.”

You laugh at this, then stifle it into your elbow so he didn’t think you were laughing at him. He still rolls over a little to look at you, confusion laces his eyes that dart around as they go from your face to the rows of empty cots behind you. Busy? You begin to laugh again.

He can’t be serious, you think as you fan your face. You let your laughter dissipate like it was being dissolved into water. “Sorry… no, you’re right,” you snort, “I was drowning in work before you arrived, agent.”

“I’m sure,” he chirps back, the ghost of a smile haunts his lips.

“I think I can squeeze you in, though. Might have to clear some of my schedule, but… I’ll make it work.”

The pleased look that graces your face is involuntary. You find it endearing how worried he is about becoming too much extra work for you and the other nurses, despite the fact that there isn’t any reason to gather that he would and—believe it or not—it’s your job. 

The agent lets out an amused breath through his nose. “Should I be flattered?”

“Oh, of course.”

You place the last of the thorns onto the metal pan and tend to his wounds with gauze and bandages and nimble fingers that have done this hundreds of times before. Sometime along the way his body relaxed—just a little—and you think he fell asleep until he sits up like a puppet that had his strings yanked and puts his shirt on properly.

The sudden movement makes you blink, and he stares at you for a long pause filled with dead air and an expectant look in his eyes. That damn rip in the tent whistles. 

Finally, his eyes flicker down to your badge, then back to your face. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I started here not too long ago,” you inform him honestly, a little embarrassed to admit your newbie title to a seasoned employee of the organization.

He doesn’t say anything else, so you take the reins.

“Well, I think we’re set,” you say, rolling the latex gloves off of your hands. “Let me know if you need anything, Agent…”

You never asked him his name?

“Leon Kennedy,” the agent, now with the name Leon Kennedy pinned to his face, finishes for you. 

His name twirls around your head and makes you dizzy to think about. I should have known, you think to yourself once he bids you farewell to report to his superiors. 

From what little time you spent at the base prior to meeting Leon, you had heard whispers during dinner drift from mouth to ear of the elusive agent. That he was a man of few words (immense understatement, you consider it more socially awkward, but true); that he had half of the base swooning every time he walked by (you don’t want to comment on this); and that he was immensely attractive (that is also true). You have to admit… you see why he had such an air of intrigue around him. To be so quiet after such successes he’s accomplished—people were on the edge of their seats trying to figure him out.

You also had to admit that you weren’t immune to it either. 

During your meals and breaks you found yourself playing Where’s Waldo? with Leon, attempting to catch glimpses of him in his natural state to confirm or deny these claims. Which was impressively difficult for absolutely no reason other than that he did it for his own benefit… the motive for this was lost, and still is, on you.

The few times you did spot him, he had the same clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows. He never stayed in the same place for very long and frequently you only spotted him—or rather, his broad shoulders and white-knuckled fists as they turned corners and disappeared to do whatever he did all day. Important agent things.

Regarding your coworkers… it hadn’t improved much, either. The head nurse, who you later learned was named Winona, loosened up on you a bit—which was practically nothing when both she and the other nurse had been so cold to begin with. However, your determination to help those around you seemed to impress her… most days.

(Peeks of Leon’s ashy blonde hair stolen from cracks in the tent. His fur-lined coat hangs off of his sizable frame, enveloping his arms in the thick fabric—it makes them look even bigger. Not that you care, per say, but—

“You aren’t getting paid to stalk agents,” Winona jeers, jolting you back to Earth from your subject of stolen attention. You swear she smiles at you wryly. “Should’ve tried for one of their jobs if you wanted to do that.”

She turns on her heel and goes over to a trio of injured civilians with her cart, the knot of hair tied taut at the base of her neck stares you in the face. You’re left hot faced and embarrassed for the entirety of the next check-up with your patient.)

The endless night shifts never seem to cease rolling in and you’re afraid it’s begun to catch up on you. By the end of breakfast, when you could finally drag your corpse-like body to your quarters and into your bed, your head drooped comically into your bowl of oatmeal and some of the newer agents had a blast laughing at you. Whatever, assholes.

(You were deeply embarrassed.)

So, you opted for allowing a short nap in here and there during your shift—ten minutes at most—whenever your eyelids began to feel itchy and weighted and you couldn’t help but close them. You really couldn’t. Being sat by the fire with a hot drink made you so warm and the sounds of blowing wind lulled you to sleep in the darkness under the moon.

Truly, a terrible work performance from you, but no one was around to see and surely you’d be awoken by even a hint of an emergency. 

Tonight, you count sheep with your wool blanket tucked up to your chin and your head lolls against your shoulder like it’s about to fall off its hinges. One, two, three. They mock you as they hop into their pasture and curl up into white, fluffy spheres, falling asleep within the warmth of their home. 

From a distance, your ears almost register the sound of footsteps that approach the tent, crushing the crunchy top layer of snow under their feet as they stop in the entrance. It isn’t enough to completely wake you until they clear their throat and say, “Hello?”

Your eyes snap open and you turn your head so fast you think it might go flying across the room. Really smooth of you, considering Leon is the one to get your attention. By the smug look on his face and slight chuckle that wracks his frame, you know he isn’t fooled with your act awake performance.

He stands there, towering and rigid, unlike the night you first met him, with his palm outstretched flat like he’s trying to show the world something. 

“Oh, hey, what do you need?” you reply quickly, standing from your chair as you let your blanket fall off of you.

Leon glances at his hand and then at you. “I, uh, got a papercut.”

“A paper cut,” you repeat, just to make sure you heard him right.

“Yeah.”

You stare at him for a moment, mouth agape as his words register as something he was actually saying to you.

“Well, get comfortable, then. I’ll patch you up.”

In reality, you’re terribly confused about a special forces agent needing first aid for a paper cut, but how could you complain? He needs help and you’re there to offer it. 

The blonde sits on a cot near the fire—not before picking up your blanket from the ground and placing it back on the chair, though—and you situate yourself on a stool facing him. 

You take Leon’s hand in yours gently and inspect the wound. It’s fairly shallow, but placed in the center of the webbed skin between his index finger and thumb. Tough spot. When your digits graze his rough knuckles he inhales sharply and you glance at him due to the sudden motion.

He doesn’t expect a reaction from you because he pauses for a second then asks, “You think I’ll live?”

“I dunno,” you answer, sucking your teeth. “Could be a close call.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know. My condolences.”

“For myself?”

“Uh-huh.” You turn his hand over so his palm faced the sky. “This’ll sting.”

When you disinfect the injury, Leon’s face twitches into itself but he keeps quiet, opting to focus his gaze on your face while you patch him up. You try not to shift under the intensity.

“What made you want to do this?” he queries, his voice cuts through the silence and startles you a bit. Leon looks pleased with himself and you roll your eyes.

“You’ll laugh.”

“Why would I do that?”

“It’s corny.”

Admittedly, it was—the original story as to why you wanted to be a nurse. You’ve had people laugh at it before and you mostly don’t want to repeat history with someone you find rather charming, but something in Leon’s face softens and he shakes his head briefly. 

“Try me,” he challenges.

“Oh, fine.” Like there was a fight put up when you relent, smoothing a bandaid over his cut. “You know those things you’d fill out as a kid? Where it’s like, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Leon nods.

“Every single time, I would write superhero,” you laugh sourly because you got used to other people laughing when you said this, but he listens as if you’re the only sound he’s ever heard. “I’d draw myself with a little cape and all that. Then at a certain age the teachers start telling you, pick a real job, pick something that exists. And, I dunno, I thought: there are real superheroes. They save people every day because they want to.”

“I mean, I always knew I didn’t have all the right assets to be the one rescuing people from burning buildings and punching the bad guys. I wanted to help people when they couldn’t help themselves, you know? I can't carry the weight of the situation—it’s just not in my nature—but I can carry them. That’s why I started doing this, I guess.”

The look he gives you when you finish speaking is indescribable. He gazes deeply into your face like he’s trying to find a new feature he missed the first time. Something akin to pulling apart your mind with his eyes as if it’s clay made for the shaping and a load of a melancholy that’s too heavy for him; like he’s asking you, how do I carry it? Tell me how to carry something like that. 

Your hand still lingers in his, over the bandaid you placed on him; you slide yours so the curves of your thumbs interlock and you grip the hilt of his palm. A hidden embrace.

Leon’s eyes dart toward your hands and he makes no effort to remove you from his grasp, his fingers relax against your wrist. He feels your heartbeat. You feel his. When he looks up again, all he sees are your eyes. 

You don’t know why you went on that anecdote in the first place, not really. Only that you were finished patching him up and wanted—needed—him to linger for a bit longer.

“What about you?” you ask, voice hushed close to nothing.

“I wanted to help people, too.” He sounds uncharacteristic—sheepish? “That’s it… I can’t follow up with something as articulate as you.”

“It matters just as much even if you can’t express it,” you assure him, your head tilts. 

Leon clears his throat and nods, slipping his hand from yours and looking anywhere that isn’t you. You created a shadow in front of his face, back facing the fire, but you can see the subtle dark tinge of his cheeks when he avoids your eyes. He chooses to look at his feet. There he goes, being endearing again, you think.

The harsh edges of his face are lit up with an orange glow, darkness shoots somewhere in between in a soft gradient, and he looks positively ethereal. If you reached out and cupped his face, you know it would be warm to the touch like laundry right out of the dryer. It makes him look all the more delicate and this feels more natural than the pointed looks and pinched expressions he usually wears.

You look back down at his hands. You’re trying to memorize the way they felt against yours (coarse and hot to the touch) and you get the picture of how hopeless you are—even an idiot could see you have a crush on him. 

That doesn’t stop you from protecting your pride and you keep it to yourself. You stand up to put the disinfectant supplies and box of bandaids away without a word. 

Leon stares at his hand like it’s missing a piece.

You have your head buried too deep into the cabinet to think much about that. Screaming at yourself was an understatement for what you’re doing in your head… a better description would be begging the floor to swallow you entirely with one gulp.

Surely, Leon has someone at home. He’s an attractive, intelligent man with an arguably stable job that pays him oodles more than he would ever need; not to mention how well-built he is, but again, for what seems like the millionth time you push this thought to the back of your mind. You could not focus on that.

“Are you okay?” his voice carries from the cot.

You take a moment’s breather and shut the cabinet door. “I’m good. How are your ribs?”

“They’re good.” Leon pauses, then adds. “Thanks.”

The shake of your head comes faster than your words; muscle memory. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“You do a good job.”

“I’m just a medic.”

“A good one.”

As you utter your gratitude for his comment, you hope he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your face from so far away. You weren’t one to get shy from such simple words, but you find your eyes glued to your boots because of his gentle bonniness. Damn you, you curse at him in your head—it held no weight.

The blonde stands from the cot and walks over to you. He bends slightly to catch your eyes in his. “I have to go now, but... yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course, Agent Kennedy.”

“Don’t start using formalities now,” he half-laughs, half-breathes. His face contorts when he stretches back, and his hand came up to massage his right shoulder—you even go to comment on this movement, being a medic and all, but he beats you to it with a smirk. “Stick with Leon.”

And then, in a few strides, he’s gone as fast as he came. 

Your entire body deflates when you let out a guttural sigh. How come every time you watched his back, you were left reeling?

Unfortunately for you, that blasted man had ingrained himself into your head, sitting pretty in your thoughts as snug as a bug in a rug while you tried to do your job, or attempted to focus on anything other than your feelings for him. On the contrary, he returned to clearing out Umbrella facilities for the time being, which meant he was out of the base for days, or even weeks, considering he was one of, if not, the best agent they had. This saved you from the embarrassment of being caught trying to catch glances of him from inside the tent or during meals. 

This, however, did not stop you from daydreaming when work got slow. 

You wondered how someone like Leon behaved domestically, if he was completely different outside of the AUPIT, or if he was still just the sweet, reserved man who needed your aid often. Did he have any pets? What music did he listen to? You guess you’d have to ask him later, but you imagined that the pieces would fall into place and suit him. They’d be so perfectly Leon that when he told you, you would think to yourself, huh, why didn’t I think of that?

The amount of daydreaming you did was not lost on Winona, and occasionally she snapped her fingers in front of your face and grumbled under her breath, “I’ll kill that boy.” With no real threat to her tone. 

Please, you can’t help it. He has arms with the muscle definition of a god and he told you-you were a good medic; you were a goner before you even realized it.

On the other hand, your family never let up with their pleas for you to return home, despite the fact that it simply wasn’t possible unless you had a very good reason for it. Which you didn’t, and you didn’t want to—people just didn’t get it through their heads that, yes, your job was difficult, and yes, patients got on your nerves sometimes, but no, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. This meant more to you than anything else you could fathom. You knew the fear these people felt first-hand, and you knew they needed a saving grace; just like you had.

(“Just come home,” your mother coos into the phone, her voice static-y and chopped from the poor signal. You could imagine her face right now, all worried and exhausted like you’re a child balancing on a wet playground. “There’s a hospital not too far from here… I’m sure they’d take you.

You promptly spend the next hour explaining to her that it isn’t that simple, even if you wanted to, and you remind her every few minutes that you aren’t going to leave, either. You’re happy, all things considered; which is why you make the executive decision to leave out all of the bad parts of your work so far.)

As for the efforts against Umbrella, you hear whispers of successes during dinners and fewer agents appeared at the medical tent’s door in need of assistance than when you arrived. So, you think things are going rather well for your organization. Less tired eyes and solemn faces; the fight wasn’t over, but everyone could rest a little easier with every night that passed. 

And yet, those damned night shifts. You swear Winona and that other medic were scheming against you for no reason other than pure spite, on the basis of simply because they didn’t feel like doing it. It has to be funny to them by now, seeing you half-asleep at breakfast and looking all mussed at dinner because you woke up ten minutes prior. You let them laugh all they wanted because frankly, you began to enjoy the night shifts. The world went to sleep, and you enjoyed some peace and quiet.

You kick your feet up onto a stool and drape a blanket over your legs, book in hand. The soft sounds of Icelandic pop music crackles out of the radio and floats throughout the tent. You mouth the noises of the songs, unsure of the lyrics, but you’ve heard it so often by now, you could recognize the tune from the first few beats. You scat a few of the instruments, tapping your foot along. You don't notice the figure that stopped in the doorframe. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Leon. You shut your book and turn to look at him, embarrassed. “I always feel like I’m coming at a bad time.”

“Never,” you reply with a haste that humbles you further. Worried about his sudden appearance in the medical tent after being gone on agent duties for nearly two weeks, you ask, “Are you okay?”

The corners of his mouth upturn and you barely see a flash of uneven teeth between the slit it creates, cute. This distracts you from how smug his face is. “I think I have a fever.”

“A fever this time?”

“Yep.”

“Make yourself comfortable, Leon.” 

A paper cut, then a fever. You begin to think of his inability to soothe his minor maladies as an excuse to visit the tent. Your stomach flutters at the thought, but you have to make sure… just in case he’d fallen ill out there in the cold. 

You find the thermometer and placed it in his mouth gingerly. It hangs crooked from the corner and he watches you with a certain keenness that makes you smile. After a few minutes, you check his temperature: 98.7. An amused hum escapes your lips without meaning to.

“Dying?” 

“I don’t think you have a fever,” you answer, using the back of your hand to press against his forehead and cheeks. The first cheek is cold, then the left cheek warms under your skin—Leon’s expression falls bashful. “But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were looking for reasons to come see me.”

It’s his turn to hum in thought. “Maybe.”

“You could just come talk to me.”

“You’re on the clock,” the blonde reminds you, grunting. In a swift movement, his hand presses into the curve of his neck and he rotates his right shoulder, face straining.

You see an opening. “That I am. What was that?”

“What?”

“Your shoulder.”

“I was stretching.”

“Does it hurt?”

Leon grumbles a response under his breath, unimpressed that you might have found something you could actually treat him for. You raise your brows. “I’ll take that as a yes. Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

“Agent Kennedy.”

He pretends not to hear you.

“Leon.”

“Fine,” he gripes like a child being forced to get a shot and maneuvers to lay his stomach flat on the cot, his back faces toward the ceiling. He takes off his brown, fur-lined jacket and discards it onto the next cot over. You get a whiff of musk and cinnamon from the breeze it makes.

The shirt that clings to him left nothing to the imagination—a tight, black compression shirt stretches snugly over his muscles. You spread your fingers like fans to warm them up, then begin to run them over his shoulder and along the meat of his back. 

You tsk, full of knots. This man needs a masseuse. You make a mental note to refer him to a good one you knew. 

With the issue at hand, though, you find an impressive knot in his shoulder, which is likely the cause of his discomfort. 

You huff, your work cut out for you. “There’s a big knot in your shoulder, Leon. How are you living like this?”

“I wake up and roll out of bed.”

“I need to get this out.”

Leon turns his head, his cheek presses to the cot. He gives you a look that says nothing short of, are you serious?  You smile as sweetly as you can at him, an attempt to coax him. To your surprise, he averts his gaze fast and relents. The blonde agent sits up and shrugs his shirt off. It’s tossed next to his jacket.

Under the fire light and the dim glow of lanterns that hang in a line down the center of the tent, strings attached to the ceiling, you see the way chills prickle over the surface of his skin. Goosebumps, like rolled carpets being kicked open, unfurl down his arms rapidly and he lays down on his stomach once again. 

Your face burns in the dark—you’d be surprised if you aren’t glowing like one of those lanterns from the amount of heat it exudes.

You use a dollop of skin cream to keep the area relaxed and pliable as you work out the knot with your fingers. You push it in the right direction until you got it in a better spot, then you knead it firmly. It crackles within his body.

“Fuck…” he groans in relief, nestling his head into the fabric of the cot as he sighs. “They teach you massages in nursing school?”

“That might be just a learned from life thing,” you state in total honesty. You wipe the excess lotion from your hands on a rag. 

Curiously, he peers at you from the corner of his eye. “You have someone back home you do that to?”

A laugh falls from your lips, though your face feels even hotter than before (if that is even possible). “No—not at all.”

Leon lets out a pleasant hum and sit up from the cot. Good, he says without saying it. 

He snatches his shirt and tugs it over his head; you pretend to make yourself busy so you have somewhere other to look than at him. You hear him sigh with great reprieve as he rolls his shoulder back and forth, it must’ve felt like a freshly oiled hinge.

He comes up behind you, his shoulder skims the back of your neck when he peers down at what you were doing on the counter. Which is a whole lot of nothing; moving cotton swabs from one container to the other, counting how many rolls of gauze you had left for the hundredth time. Mindless hand ministrations to distract you from the heart that pounds in your chest.

“Is this what you do all night?” he questions, mildly amused.

“Sometimes.”

“Must be glad I showed up.”

“Something like that,” you tease, glancing up at him with a coy smile.

You watch his withstraint break a little inside of him. He inhales sharply, losing the words you said somewhere between your eyes and your lips—he couldn’t focus with your faces so close to each other and neither could you. Leon reaches for the hand that rested on the other side of you and drags you in between him and the counter, twirling you to face him. Then he pauses and appears lost, like he doesn’t know which way is left and right.

Maybe he doesn’t know what to do, you think. You don’t really know either, so you go on about what you do know.

“You should probably use kinesiology tape on your shoulder,” you comment, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of all of your limbs. His eyes don’t leave your lips. You’d be a liar if you say yours left his.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

The man’s body heat radiates off of him and it’s magnetic, pulling you closer, away from the bitter cold. Your breath hitches. His hand hovers over the curve of your neck, then it decides to rest on the side of your jaw, thumb pressed against your flushed cheek. You remember the texture of his warm palm, coarse and calloused from years of wear.

You try to memorize every fine line and crease that scuffs your face as he beckons you to close the gap with the slight tilt of his head. I’d make a terrible agent, my resilience is slim to none, you theorize when your body moves before your mind does. His mouth hovers over yours, his breath traces your cupid’s bow. You close the distance enough that your lips graze each other until someone clears their throat from a few feet away.

Winona stands like a judgmental statue, thin brows raise expectantly. You, and Leon, jump away from each other. It rocks the counter with a loud clatter that echoes. 

“Agent Kennedy,” she acknowledges him first as a sign of respect. He nods back awkwardly. “You two look like you’re  enjoying yourselves.”

Neither of you talk for a moment and you find  yourself desperate to create any word that could explain what that was. Leon’s eyes dart around the room.

Finally, something solid comes to your tongue. “I’m sorry.”

And then she laughs in both of your faces. Her hand waves like it’s fanning your words away from getting inhaled. You and Leon glance at each other, brows knit in honest confusion.

“Kids,” she exhales. “Stop distracting my medic, Kennedy.”

Then he speaks, but it sounds more like a nervous cough. “Yes, ma’am.”

Winona shoos him with a gesture of her wrinkled hand and he musters a sheepish, apologetic smile for you as he hurries away from the tent. You don’t make much of an effort to move as you prepare your ego for the chew out it’s about to receive.

“And you. Try to keep the fraternization out of the tent.” With that, she continues past you to search through some files, snickering to herself and shaking her head.

You aren’t about to push your luck. You get to keep your job and ego intact, and that’s enough for you. So, you whisper a quiet, “Yes, ma’am.” And go on with your day.

The encounter with Leon left you feverish and all tingly in every limb whenever it crossed your mind over the following days. You saw him out and about around the base, and during meals he offered you frail waves that faded in a breath. 

Truth was, you’re too afraid of rejection to ask him about that night—go figure. Maybe you’re a cliche. Maybe you’re both cliches. Who cares? Well, you do, and you thought the ruffled, pink-tinted expressions on Leon’s face whenever you crossed paths meant that he did, too, but neither of you made a move to approach the other. You questioned if you would rather be told that his only plans for you was a short work fling with no strings attached, or if he felt the connection that you did. A terrible predicament, really, and soon your desire for a straight answer outweighed the fear of hearing something you didn’t like. 

When you went to find him in the meal tent, sitting alone in one of the back corners, he wasn’t there. Okay. You waited, then decided to check the nooks and crannies of the base where you knew he hung around, and nothing. Leon vanished into thin air the moment you gathered enough courage to speak to him. Somehow you thought he read your mind and planned for this to happen, just to be able to tease you without being present. But that was simply ridiculous. He had to go to work, just like you had to do yours.

A week went by, then two; no sign of Leon’s reappearance cropped up and you began to worry you wouldn’t get the chance to speak to him at all. The only reminder that soothed you was the fact that you knew the organization was on the home stretch for completely wiping Umbrella’s power in Iceland. This reassured you for many reasons. Mainly, that you’d be able to sleep in your bed again at a proper time that didn’t leave you exhausted; but you also found comfort in the idea of finally getting a word with the blonde agent that clung to your brain like a disease once everything was over. 

Of course, you had fleeting thoughts that he died and you’d forever be left wondering about what could have been. But, that was just ridiculous—he’s Leon Kennedy, the agent that saved the president’s daughter from certain death. So, you chalked it up to your anxiety being built up as doubt about the succession of the mission began to be put to an end. That yes, you would all return home soon, and no nothing terrible and tragic would happen just as you were about to win.

Eventually, you all received the verdict of the mission. Success. The sun shone through the clouds brighter that day, in ribbons of gold that elevated all of your senses to something dreamlike. Another catastrophe prevented. More people saved—clockwork. To say you were pleased with the conclusion of your first ever out of country operation would be an understatement; you were ecstatic. 

Still, you find yourself fretting over that thing with Leon as you help pack up the equipment in the medical tent.

Winona, who has grown increasingly engrossed in your love life, gives you a knowing look when your lips tug downward and you send a pointed glance toward the entrance of the tent for the tenth time in the last hour. She tsks and shakes her head. It gains your attention. 

“Just talk to him,” she insists, shoving a couple boxes of bandaids into the case. She’s unimpressed with your antics and just wants you to get a move on. 

You sigh and preen your hair like he’ll walk in at any moment. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Hopeless,” she grumbles in response. “Hopeless. If you won’t do something about it, stop looking at the door like a kicked dog and help me.” Winona retreats further into the tent and you succumb enough to follow her.

You must glower the whole time because she won’t stop sending you dirty looks while she tapes the cardboard boxes with a tape gun. Her movements are threatening. You try to fix your expression when the line of spokes reflects off of the bright horizon outside the tent as it slices the tape.

After the innards of the tent are packed into a dozen or so boxes, you’re the person left to pick them up one by one and drop them off with the rest of the cargo that needs to be shipped. Your back is sore from the sorry excuses of beds you have and your arms ache from hours of cramming things. Kicking snow with each shuffled step, you heave out a lengthy sigh and pause to breathe. There’s a reason I’m not an agent.

“Need a hand?” Leon asks from behind you. You’re wondering how he’s always sneaking up on you.

Still, you nod and can’t help but be relieved. “Please.”

Like it’s filled with air, he takes the box from your hands and cocks a barely-there grin at your awed expression. Smug and content, he marches ahead with you in tow. You don’t really know what to say to him, if anything at all. 

You walk alongside him for the first time in the daylight, and you take in his features now that they aren’t muddled in the darkened firelight or blurred by distance. He’s chiseled, sunken cheeks and high cheekbones with that intense look on in his eyes—but there’s something else—boyish, is what you think. Soft jaw. Moles and freckles litter themselves across his face. 

Leon is beautiful and you would like to kiss him right now.

He stops at the drop off point, places the box next to the others and turns to you. Suddenly, he looks nervous and you feel some resolve escape your mind. He’s about to ask you something. He opens his mouth, rosy lips parting and you break—you pull him behind a tall stack of boxes and kiss him.

The collar of his jacket is clutched between your fingers in a moment and your lips are on his; the fur tickles your skin. His lips are chapped and cold but you create warmth within him, you could be a summer’s day in this frigid air. His hands come to your waist, then your hips and his fingertips make indents when he holds you tight like this was always supposed to happen. When you part, you’re both breathless.

He searches for his words again, the question he was going to ask. “Would you—dinner? On me.”

You hum in faux thought and peck him on the lips again, then again, and a third time for good measure. He smiles into the last one.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t start that by saying you stubbed your toe and needed my help.”

Leon chuckles. “I thought about it.”

He pulls you in again, tongue grazing your bottom lip. You lean in further, desperate for connection until you both go slipping like baby deer. The thin layer of snow on the ground left everything icy. He tumbles into some supplies and you land on top of him. You’re both laughing into each other’s mouths. You’re both happy.

You chime together, like clockwork.

[allfearstofallto]

saw yr posts abt submissive yanderes, and hear me out, tartaglia. i mean this from the bottom of my heart he is the one that wants you to do things to him, and while that’s not exactly submission i think it’s close enough?

just… in my mind he wants anything you’ll give him, he’ll give his body up to you, even if you punch and kick him, he takes it, sure he’d rather you treat him the way he would (does?) you, but any touch you give makes him feel like a wild animal.

tartaglia, who just needs you. idek i’m losing my train of thought 🙏

I don't think it's exactly what you wanted, but I got carried away and wrote masochist Childe👉🏾👈🏾. I hope that's okay!!! Personally, as a woman who loves femdom, it felt so good to write this though!! It was like I was going back to my roots.

TW: NSF.W Yandere themes, BDSM (bondage, sadism/masochism), violence, nipple play, unprotected sex, finishing inside, dub-con, overstimulation(?), choking

“Hurt me more,” he cooed while looking up at you with big, eyes full of anticipation. Drool leaking from his lips, his cheek was already red and warm from your stinging slap across it, “C’mon, I know you hate me. Now's your chance to treat me like you do.” He'd goad you with that same smug, smirk on his face.

Childe's big strong arms were tied with a rope to the headboard. The material was tight, digging into the flesh of his wrist anytime he'd struggle against them. But despite the aching pain you could imagine he was feeling, he showed a face of hunger, of desire for more.

His cock, large and twitching, was strained against his boxers, begging to be let free from its confines. When you brought another rough slap down across his cheek, you watched it twitch and leak and darken that already deep fabric with his precum, while he trembled with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

He'd grind his hips up, wanting you to free his aching dick, but you never did. You knew he could cum without it and he did too. Your hand would slide up his chiseled stomach, his body was always slightly colder than what it was supposed to be, and you squeezed one of his pink nipples between your finger tips. As hard as you could. Squeezing and twisting until your hand shook.

Lips clenched together, he muffled his own moans. His cock twitched in his underwear a few more times, the head of it rubbing against the precum he'd already spilled on his boxers .He came like that, the many shots of his semen continuing to soak the cloth until it began to drip down his cock again.

When he stilled from his orgasm, his body still twitching, he smiled at you lovingly. All the disgust you felt towards him still there, you'd turn away without a word.

You never took yourself to be much of a sadist, the idea of it being like a whisper of the night, never being brought to the day, but that was before Childe took you. Locked away in his home, falling victim to his torture that he called love, you felt animosity towards him grow. That animosity would turn into violent fits of rage, ones that he never took seriously. There was no way you could actually hurt a harbinger, especially without a vision, but that didn't stop you from trying. And one fateful day, you actually managed to connect a punch to his jaw.

It was your first time ever punching someone and felt more like you were hitting a brick wall than a person. You shook your sore hand out, immediately regretting what you'd done for the pain it caused you instead. But Childe stood there stiff, a little bruise forming on the side of his face. His eyes had rolled back, body beginning to shutter. His mouth agape, he let out a soft, low moan. You were going to tell him to stop joking around, that he wasn't funny, until he dropped to his knees in front of you, a wet patch forming on the front of his pants. Childe had cum just from your little act of violence.

While he loved the art of fighting. The rush that ending another life gave him, the way his body felt while he was throwing punches, it was an unmatchable adrenaline rush, he never knew he was one for pain. Pain from your hands felt different. It felt pleasurable. A familiar stinging followed by tingles that shot through his body. Only you could do that to him.

“You're incredible, my angel,” he moaned while kissing up your thighs, wanting to do more with this new found knowledge of his.

He had you laid back on the bed, pounding into your tender cunt with little mercy. Each long stroke of his cock made your toes curl from the unwanted pleasure of him hitting your insides. Your legs on his hips, you squeezed the sheets for leverage as you begged for him to stop, or at the very least slow down. He was going to fast, too drunk and clumsy from the satisfaction your dripping pussy was giving him.

Childe’s large hand engulfed your wrist, a feeling you were familiar with. Instead of holding you in place so he could fuck you deeper into the mattress with less struggle from you like you thought he would, he lifted it up and placed your palm to his neck.

“Make me,” he growled, lust clouding his eyes. Uncertainty caused you to tremble for a moment before you realized that this was Childe, nothing you could do could actually hurt him. He was asking for it, even going as far as to lift your legs higher, to thrust into you deeper, to make you try to stop him more.

You squeezed that muscled throat, choking him with the hope that he might actually die, but knowing better. He loved it, his already obnoxious moans were even louder than before. His thrusts felt even more rough, hips slapping against yours as you actually felt yourself growing a little aroused from this and he noticed too. A smirk on his face as he struggled to inhale, but still fucking you at that same brutal pace with those same deep, strokes.

He strained to speak as he tried to tell you he was cumming, his mouth just opening and closing, drooling down his chin. Childe forced his cock balls deep inside of you, going so deep with his length it almost felt uncomfortable. He began to cum, dick twitching like mad against your walls. Soft whimpers and groans would drop from his lips as you didn't let go of him, only squeezing his throat tighter.

His cock didn't get the chance to soften, he stayed hard as he started slow, shallow thrusts into your pussy again. The mixture of the pain of overstimulation and lack of air from your choking has him convulsing, but he didn't pull out, using his own cum as lube.

“Ah…hah…just say you want to milk me dry, my love, I'll keep going,” he managed to grunt through tears, his orange hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

[d3adp00ls]

Heyia lovely! Noticed you were taking or rather looking for requests to do with Vanessa from FNAF?

If there still open I was wondering if you were able to a fluffy one, maybe when the reader is related to Mike somehow and she knows he’s struggling with a job so it’s actually her that suggest to Mike to work as a night guard with her, and maybe Mike is overprotective of the reader so when Vanessa turns up he’s like ‘stay away from her’, but their actually a couple, and when Mike just finds out he’s shocked and if your comfortable with it maybe Vanessa giving the reader a kiss or a kiss on the cheek and he like ‘so I’ll see you for date night?’

Overprotective?

Vanessa (fnaf movie) x reader

Summary: basically the request

Contents: fluff, angst (you gotta squint really hard tbh), established relationship, protective Mike, secret relationship

W/c: how about you count for me bbg 😉 (I’m actually so sorry this is so fucking long and idek why)

side note: The only thing I really changed is the fact that you aren't related to Mike and that you're just a childhood friend, I hope that’s okay and enjoy the totally amazing writing that I love so much!! Also, I’m pretty sure this does not fit totally well with the movie's timeline but it does kind of take place during it.

☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥

You started working as a security guard at Freddy’s about three months ago. Although it wasn’t the ideal job and the pay sucked ass, it had its perks. For instance, you enjoyed watching Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica perform for you, and you also found it amusing to watch Foxy try to beat your high score on one of the old arcade games. It was pretty funny to see him struggle with the machines using only one hand, but it was less funny when he got mad and hit the machine with his hook. However, the best thing about the job was Vanessa Shelly, the officer who came every other night. You met her on your third day working at Freddy’s when she came to introduce herself to you, and you both immediately clicked. Now, two months later, you’re together.

Recently, you’ve been feeling lonely at Freddy’s. Vanessa couldn’t visit you all the time due to her job, and as much as you love the animatronics, you can’t have real conversations with them. Half the time, you’re left in your own thoughts while waiting for your watch to read 6 a.m. Vanessa recently told you that they were trying to find another security guard to work at Freddy’s with you. You were excited about the idea until she told you that you both would only have one shift together. Nonetheless, you were still excited about the idea of not being alone every night on the weeks Vanessa couldn’t keep you company. You just wish they would find a person faster. You were becoming more and more impatient as the days passed. It got to the point where you even asked Vanessa if you could look for someone yourself, which you quickly realized was stupid because you didn’t even know anyone who could do night shifts. You had given up hope of having a coworker and accepted the fact that some weeks you would be stuck at the old restaurant alone. However, one of your nights off changed everything. You were babysitting for your best friend Mike Schmidt, who was apparently out trying to get a job because he beat up some kid’s father at his last one. You had been drawing in the living room on the floor with Abby when he came in holding and reading an orange paper. You furrowed your eyes as you stood up and walked to him. “What’s that?” Mike looked up at you as you nodded toward the paper. He looked back down at it before sighing and crumbling it up. “Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he said with a small huff before looking towards the kitchen and seeing a box of pizza with a half-eaten pie on the table. He looked back towards you with furrowed brows. “Did you order dinner?” he asked while walking towards the kitchen and picking up a slice, feeling that it was still warm.

“Nah, my girl….I mean uh… a friend of mine did,” you said with a shrug, clearing your throat when you realized you almost had a slip-up. It’s not like you didn’t trust Mike with knowing that you had a girlfriend. You knew you could trust him, seeing as you had come out to him when you both were 15, and he was more supportive than your own parents could ever be. However, it wasn’t about sexuality with Mike. It was his protectiveness over the one he loved. He has been going through a lot ever since Garret’s death, so you don’t blame him at all for becoming overprotective about you and Abby. But the fact that you don’t blame him doesn’t mean you won’t sometimes wish he would lay off on the protective big brother act. Sometimes it’s the only reason why you haven’t told him about Vanessa. You were scared of how he would react and that he wouldn’t approve. Mike looked at you with a raised brow, and your heart nearly sank at the thought of him hearing your slip-up. But then a smirk started to form on his lips, causing you to raise a brow before he started speaking. “Oh? I didn’t realize people actually liked you enough to consider you a friend.”

You sarcastically laughed at his words before punching him in the arm, causing him to laugh and move away from you with his arms raised in defense. “Very funny, Mike. Tons of people like me, alright?” you say with a roll of your eyes as you walk back to the living room where Abby is still finishing her drawing. “Anyways, how’d it go? Did you get the job?” You ask as you begin to pick up some of the crayons that Abby wasn’t using. You hear Mike groan, causing you to glance up at him. He’s sitting in a chair with a hand covering his face. “That bad, huh?” Mike shakes his head, moving his hand to tap against the arm of the chair. “I don’t even want to talk about it,” he says with another groan before leaning his head back to let out a huff. You hum in return as you finish picking up the rest of the crayons and placing them next to Abby’s drawings on a table with a smile before standing up fully and brushing your pants off. “Well, I should start heading out. I have work tomorrow, and I have to do a ton of other stuff before then, so I want to get some rest before all of that,” you begin walking around to grab your stuff as you speak. Mike seems to perk up at your words, and you notice it as you go to reach for your coat. The way he practically jumps out of his seat and looks at you almost stuns you with how fast he moves towards you. You notice Abby now looking at you both with a confused look, which you shrug at her before Mike stands right in front of you, causing you to take a step back. “Whoa, what’re-” “You have a job, right?” Mike says so quickly you won’t even think he’s speaking English. “Excuse me?” “You’ve got a job, right?” he says a little slower but still slightly fast. “Yeah? Did I not just say that?” “Are you hiring?” He asks, his face showing hope. You give a sad smile in return as you pull your coat on. “Yeah, we are…but you can’t do night shifts, remember?” Mike sighs, looking towards Abby, who is watching the interaction.

He looks at you returning the sad look.

“I don’t think I have much of a choice at this point.”

☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥

You sat in the security office at Freddy’s, humming to yourself as you watched the security camera with a bored expression. It was Thursday, which meant you and Mike had a joint shift. This was the last day of the week for him and the first day of the week for you. You had arrived a little earlier than needed, so you continued to stare mindlessly at the cameras as you waited for him to arrive. Your eyes began to get heavy, and you were just about to dose off when you saw a car pull into the parking lot and park next to your car. You sat up, looking more closely, and saw Mike get out of the car. You smiled a little, but your smile dropped when you noticed him talking to someone. You tried to squint to get a closer look before the door opened, and Abby got out. “What the hell?” you mumbled under your breath before standing up and walking towards the entrance to meet them there.

“Y/n!” You smile when you hear Abby’s voice excitedly yell your name before she jumps into your arms and gives you a tight hug. “Hey, Ab’s!” you answer, hugging her back before putting her down. “What are you doing here?” you ask with an amused tone. When you look towards Mike, he’s already nervous, knowing you will be on his case about this later. “Mike lets me come sometimes!” she says happily, and you raise your eyebrow at her while looking back at Mike. “Sometimes? You’ve been here before?” Abby nods before running off towards the stage where Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica are all standing, seeming to be happy that she’s there. You watch the interaction between the three robots and the little girl before sighing and looking back at Mike. “She’s been here before, Mike?” Your tone now changes from the one you used with Abby to one more serious. “I know what this looks like, but I swear I have a good explanation,” he says. You raise a brow at him as he continues to speak. “You usually babysit for Abby, but today we both had work, so I tried to get someone else, but I couldn’t find anyone to fill in for you.” “What about that girl who would sometimes watch Abby? Max?” you ask while looking back at Abby to see her and Foxy watching the other three perform. “She hasn’t been answering my calls,” Mike states, causing you to look back at him with a confused look. “Since when?” “Since last Thursday when you took the day off because you were sick.” You nod at his answer before letting out a sigh. “Okay…I guess it’s fine that she’s here. Just please keep an eye on her. The animatronics are cool and all, but they can be a little rough sometimes.” He hums and nods, and you smile at him before playfully hitting his arm. “Now, come on, let’s go watch the show.”

☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥

It was 4 am, You and Abby were playing in the arcade with animatronics watched you both and Mike was god knows where.

Abby had just beaten your high score, much to Foxy’s dismay, and she was excitedly jumping around as you watched her while laughing before you got a glimpse of Mike speed walking towards the entrance causing you to furrow your brows but you just shrugged it off and look back at Abby who is now trying to convince foxy he can beat the high scores.

You were about to start a new game for him but then you heard Mike's voice paired with another familiar one causing you to furrow your brows and move away from the arcade game telling the group that you would be right back before you jogged towards the voices.

when you got to the entrance you saw Mike talking to someone at the door causing you to walk closer to get a look but when you stepped closer you were met with Vanessa walking in with a smile on her face.

“Hey y/n,” she says with a smile and you all but jump into her arm and hug her tightly while she laughs.

“Vanessa!” you exclaimed, surprised to see her. “It’s been forever!” She chuckled at your words and hugged you back before pulling away, leaving her hand on your waist. “We literally saw each other on Sunday,” she said as you pulled your arms from her. “Yeah…but it still feels like forever,” you mumbled as she laughed again, causing you to smile and playfully hit her on the arm. You were so caught up in the fact that Vanessa was here that you almost forgot Mike was there until he cleared his throat, causing both of you to look back at him. “I didn’t know you two knew each other,” he said, throwing a very obvious glare at Vanessa when her hand stayed at your waist, but she pulled away while clearing her throat, seeming to notice the tension between them suddenly. “Uh, yeah, I met her on her third day here,” she said, glancing at you with a shy smile, which you returned before looking back at Mike, who still hadn’t taken his glare off of Vanessa. “Anyway, I’m gonna go say hi to Abby,” Vanessa clears her throat , giving you one more smile before walking towards the group to escape the awkward tension. “You two seem close…” he stated dryly, finally taking his eyes off of her and landing them on you. You hummed while looking down at your shoes, not wanting to look him in the eyes if you decided to lie about the relationship. “She kept me company during my first few weeks here. She’s a very nice person,” you said, trying to diffuse the tension. Mike hummed and nodded his head, his gaze going back to Vanessa, who was now playing the arcade game. “I bet she is nice to you,” he said, his tone a little harsh, making you glance up at him with furrowed eyebrows, but he was still looking at Vanessa, making you clear your throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked him when he looked back at you. Mike shrugged before beginning to walk away from you and towards the others. “Nothing…forget it. Let’s just go.”

As you watch him walk away, you groan and cover your face with your hands. You slide them down your face and glance over at the group. Vanessa is already looking back at you with a playful smile and motions her head towards the hallway that leads to the security room. You furrow your brows and look away from her towards Mike, who is being distracted by Abby. She’s trying to get him to give Freddy a hug, but he keeps telling her no with what almost looks like a scared expression on his face. The interaction makes you chuckle and shake your head. You look back at Vanessa, who is still staring at you, waiting for you to make a move.

You can't help but break into a smile as you playfully roll your eyes and make your way towards the office. Vanessa announces that she needs to put her coat away and her footsteps quickly jog down the hallway. She grabs your arms and pulls you into the office.

Your gasp is cut short when she kisses you, leaving you momentarily stunned. But you quickly reciprocate, feeling her smile against your lips. She moves her hands to your waist and pushes you into the security chair, closing the door with her foot.

As you try to catch your breath, you look up at her and see her licking her lips. She straddles your legs and you instinctively hold onto her waist. She leans in to kiss your ear, causing you to tilt your head for better access.

"I don't think your little boyfriend approves of me," Vanessa whispers in your ear. You groan and push her back slightly to look at her.

"Don't call him that, he's like a brother to me," you say. Vanessa just smiles and kisses your lips again before moving to your neck.

"Well, your 'brother' definitely looked like he wanted to kill me," she teases. You hum in agreement, closing your eyes as she kisses a sensitive spot on your neck.

"Don't worry about him, he'll come around. He can be a bit overprotective at times," you assure her, gently lifting her head and brushing your thumb against her cheek.

"Have you told him about us yet?" she asks, and you meet her gaze before reluctantly shaking your head.

"I haven't found the right time," you sigh, and she nods in understanding.

"Well, you should figure that out soon," she says, getting up from your lap with a laugh and taking off her police jacket.

"But I don't want to," you whine, standing up and grabbing her arm to turn her back towards you. She smirks at you and shakes her head.

"Babe, I'm not his best friend, you are. You have to handle this on your own. But I'm sure it'll be fine. If he truly cares about you, he'll be happy for us, right?" she reasons, gazing into your eyes. With a heavy sigh, you nod in agreement. Vanessa's soft smile reassures you, and you lean into her touch as she cups your cheek.

"So, are we still on for our date night on Sunday?" you ask, and she leans in closer, her forehead resting against yours.

"Why wouldn't we be?" she teases, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You can't help but look at her lips, and she notices, licking her own before leaning in to kiss you once more.

"We probably should get back to everyone," you mumble between kisses, but you don't make any move to leave her embrace. She hums in response, her lips still pressed against yours.

"We should, but I don't want to leave you," she murmurs, making you laugh softly. You meet her gaze again, and she licks her lips before capturing yours in another passionate kiss.

You were so deep into the kiss that you didnt hear the footsteps coming near the room nor did you hear when the door open.

“The fuck is going on?!”

☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥

AHHH I FINALLY FINISHED THIS FOR MY GIRL 🤭😋 TOOK FOREVER BUT I THINK IT WAS WORTH IT!!

Anyways please reblog if you liked it 🙏🏾🙏🏾 and have a nice day/night/evening/wtv

☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥

Tag list - 🌚 ion have one yet

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field II

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. also someone dies (but its not too graphic), mentions of blood and violence you guys get the vibes.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: embarrassed to say this is grabbing me by the cuff of my shirt and yanking me out of writer's block sorry to everyone who followed for drew's characters lmao. anyway idek if any of this is any good but as long as i'm writing something i'm pleased.

next part

Coriolanus clenched his jaw as he watched you eat from the plate of fruit your maid brought up after you called for tea, hoping that somehow you would just miss the sound of his stomach growling. He had said no, but you insisted because you were hungry. You don't even know what hungry feels like- he's already regretting letting you help him.

"So," You start, covering your mouth as you finish chewing so you could get down to strategy. If you were going to help, you had to go at this wisely. "What is your plan? Lay it out for me. I'll give you my thoughts."

"I talked to Tigris, she agreed that I need to get Lucy Gray to trust me." He tells you. "She said she would want someone here to care about her. That will have to be me."

"Okay." You nod, reaching for another slice of apple on the plate, trying to ignore the way his eyes track the fruit all the way from your plate to your lips. "So, I'm doing a more behind-the-scenes thing. I think that's better, for us and her. I don't want her to be overwhelmed."

"Yeah." Coryo agrees, staring at you. At this point, it's driving you crazy.

"Coryo." You state, pushing the dish across the coffee table in his direction. "Eat. Please."

"No, I couldn't." He tries to politely decline and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"I insist. It was made for two, I can't possibly stomach it all. It would be a shame for it to go to waste." You had laid your cards out just minutes earlier, making it clear you both knew more about each other's home lives than you cared to discuss, but that didn't mean you would torture him with it.

He hesitates before grabbing a slice and taking a few bites, looking past you and out the window. He wouldn't want it to go to waste like you said, after all.

"I won't tell anyone, you know." You say, your tone walking a line between joking and being serious. He'll interpret that in whatever way he chooses, and you're okay with that.

"I should be going, actually." He says, dropping the other half of the apple slice back onto the dish and standing up, smoothing the creases in his slacks.

You stand up as well, making your way to the door and ringing the bell that summons your maid. "I'll walk you out, just give me a second." You explain to him, and by the time you're done your sentence, she is there looking at you expectantly. "Take these leftovers and pack them up for my friend." You tell her, pointing to the mostly full plate. "And pack some of those pastries you made for his family as well, if you don't mind. Oh! And that bread, it will go bad soon if someone doesn't eat it." She just nods silently as you speak, walking past you to take the plate before leaving.

"Thank you." Coriolanus mutters through gritted teeth once your maid is out of earshot.

"Like I said," You smile. "I don't want it to go to waste."

The morning the tributes arrived, Coriolanus was late to class. He had never been late to class, not once, and you would know- because you hadn't either. Not that you were worried, but it was almost the only thing you could think about. It was odd, but he must have gone to greet Lucy Gray. That would be the only thing that made sense.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules, Mister Snow." Dean Highbottom says as the blonde boy walks in, uniform disheveled as he finds his seat across the room from you.

You make eye contact only briefly with him as the Dean goes on about how endangering the life of a student is against the rules, and your friend would be accumulating a demerit over the whole thing.

From what you can gather, he did go see Lucy Gray, which went farther than he intended when he ended up escorting her all the way into the monkey cage at the zoo. To you, that was comically appropriate. To Sejanus, it was a crime. Of course it was, his heart never left District Two. As much as you had your differences, Sejanus was a kind boy. You did like him, only after you got it through your mind that if you were to leave the Capitol, you would always be Capitol at heart. You're pulling on a loose string on the hem of your uniform sleeve, more, more, until you've almost undone the whole length of your wrist. When the thread breaks you want to hit something, for little to no reason, and you bite into your bottom lip.

You don't even know why you're so mad. You have a short fuse and you know that, maybe it's about Coryo. Maybe it's about your sleeve that's now slightly longer on one side.

You're drawn from your thoughts as Clemensia stands up from her seat next to Coryo, addressing Dr. Gaul who, as far as you know, had only been in the room for a minute or so. "Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together, I think it would be fitting for us to write up the proposal together too. I have some good ideas for things to be incorporated into the games along with betting." Your eyes roll so hard at this that it makes your head ache.

"I brought her a rose from Grandma'am's garden and she ate it. She needs food." Coryo tells you, walking alongside you down the hall.

"I'll get something together for her. Would you like to come with me to pick it up and then we can go to the zoo?" You ask, adjusting your shoulder bag as he holds the front door open for you.

"Okay. Are you sure you should come?"

"If you would like me to." You shrug, leading him in the direction of your parent's town car.

He thinks on it for a moment. Does he want you to meet Lucy Gray? You were technically also her mentor, even if you were taking a backseat. It struck him again, harder somehow, when he met her in person how similar she was to you. Besides the distinct accent, every word that came out of her mouth sounded as though it could have been written in a script by you. If you were district, that is. It was hard to wrap his mind around.

"I would." He finally answers, more so on impulse than resulting from his thought process.

You smile, linking your arm around his as you approach the vehicle.

"Then we can drop you at Clem's. if you'd like." You offer bitterly and he just gives a curt nod in response.

After getting your maid to pack some food for Lucy Gray with some extra for the two of you, assuming you would be gone for the evening, you got a ride to the zoo. The atmosphere was exciting, with people and children crowding the bars- this time including a few of your classmates. Sejanus, which you had expected, and Arachne- no doubt there to get attention.

"Lucy Gray!" Coryo called out, summoning the girl toward the two of you as you approached the bars marking the edge of the enclosure.

"Well hello, Coriolanus. You brought a friend, care to introduce us?" She smiles, looking between the two of you. Admittedly, you admire her poise, given the situation. Politeness in front of the cameras was a must- she's doing an exemplary job in humanizing herself.

"Lucy Gray, this is my friend Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, meet Lucy Gray." He nods between the two of you and you reach through the bars to shake her hand.

"Hello. Pleasure to meet you." You smile at her, which she returns.

"You as well." She nods, clearly impressed as she looks between you and Coryo. You had decided back at your home to not introduce yourself as another mentor, just as a friend, after gushing the reaction to the other tributes thinking Lucy Gray was getting special treatment this morning when her mentor was the only one to show up. "Coriolanus, is Miss Y/L/N here your sweetheart?"

His face flushes red as he shakes his head, refusing to look at you. You laugh, not noticing his change in undertone as you answer for him. "No, no. Just a friend." You explain, digging in your bag for her food, wanting to quickly change the subject. "We brought you this." You hold out the napkin for her, containing a sandwich, a couple of desserts, and some plums.

"Oh wow, thank you!" Lucy Gray smiles, accepting it gratefully. "Hey, Jessup! Come eat." She calls out to the other tribute from her district, who you remember was assigned to Lysistrata Vickers.

He comes over, but doesn't acknowledge either of you as Lucy Gray holds out one of the dessert bars to him. "I'm not hungry."

"It won't do you any good to starve now. You need your energy." Lucy Gray insists, practically shoving it into his hand.

"I hope you like blueberry." You cut in. "It's a blueberry biscuit with pistachio filling. Made fresh this morning- I promise it's good."

He doesn't say anything, taking it and retreating to the rock he was previously sitting on to eat.

"Will you be sharing everything with him?" Coryo asks her quietly as he walks away.

"Why? So I can keep my energy up enough to strangle him? I don't think that will matter much in a few days."

"You can't trust anyone once the games start, so why trust them now?" You reply quietly, scanning over the other tributes, eyes landing on Arachne taunting her tribute. Of course she would- her arrogance never fails to impress you.

"Your friend over there seems just lovely." Lucy Gray says sarcastically, eyes following yours as you watch your classmate.

"Not our friend." You and Coryo respond at the same time.

"She's poison with perfect teeth." He continues and you nod.

"One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon." Lucy Gray says. You're not sure what she means, but you nod anyway.

"Here, let's sit." You suggest, changing the subject as you crouch down to lay out a cloth on the ground to place the food on.

As you're laying it out carefully between the bars for Lucy Gray, you can feel Coryo's eyes burning into the backs of your hands. Lucy Gray notices this too, handing him a cookie from the pile.

"No, I couldn't." His default response. "You need it more than me."

"You were staring. Here, we'll share." She insists and he takes it gratefully, breaking off a piece and placing it in his mouth.

"Here..." You mumble, digging through your bag again and pulling out the glass container designated for his dinner. You place it in his lap, not giving him the chance to turn it down. "Packed it just for you."

He takes it off his lap, tensely getting up. "I'll be back in a moment." He tells you both, red uniform disappearing behind the small crowd.

"You can see it too?" Lucy Gray asks you, nibbling on half of a sandwich.

You nod slightly, eyes still trying to track him to see where he went, then landing on him talking to Sejanus who's desperately trying to get his tribute, Marcus, to eat some of the food he brought.

"He's quite sensitive about it." You explain. "I appreciate you being kind to him. No one else knows... I think. Regardless, you are very important to him."

She nods a little bit, watching you watch your friend. "Are you just buttering me up?" She jokes and you shake your head, returning your attention to the girl across from you.

"No, I mean it. It's more than the prize for us." You state. "Him." You quickly correct yourself. "I just want to help however I can, if you need anything else just ask, but I'll bring food every day. Or I'll send it with Coryo."

"Coryo, huh?"

"Well, yes. We've been friends for years."

"I see." Lucy Gray nods, both of you watching him make his way back over. You lift up his container of food and hand it to him before he even has the chance to sit down.

"What about you, Lucy Gray? Any friends back home? Family?" You ask, looking away from him as he sits. You want him to eat, but you know he would loathe you for watching, so you direct all your attention to her.

"I'm an orphan, just like Coryo here." She nods to him and his brows furrow at the nickname coming from someone new. "It's just me and the Covey."

"Covey?" You ask.

"Yeah, they're my family and we perform together. It's how we make our change."

"Well, you are a very talented singer. Jaws were on the floor in the Capitol during your performance." You smile. 

"I'm not one to go quietly, that's all."

"I'm not either." You agree. "I think we'll be fine friends."

Just at that moment, the three of you hear a scream that has you turning your heads as fast as lightning over to the source, catching the end of Arachne getting her throat slit by her tribute. You and Coriolanus are on your feet in seconds, running over to try and help her just as gunfire rings out, taking down her tribute for the crime of her murder.

You pull off your blazer, both you and Coryo using it to try and stop the bleeding, but you could tell it was no use. By the time you look up, the crowd of spectators was completely gone having rushed for the exits during the attack.

Just as you both realize it's no use, and that she's already dead, you're being pulled away by peacekeepers.

"Hey! Let me go right this second!" You shout, trying to pull away.

"You kids have to get out of here." One of them answers blankly.

"I have to get my stuff!" You complain, trying to wiggle out of their strong grip. "You want me to leave my knife over within reach too? Are you stupid?"

They stop, sighing as they let you go. "Thank you." You huff, readjusting your shirt before walking back over to where you were just sitting with Lucy Gray, quickly gathering your things but leaving food for her.

"Lucy Gray, are you alright?" You ask, seeing her lying on the ground a few feet away from the bars now, just getting up.

She just nods, the fear in her eyes starting to cease. 

"You're not shot?" You follow up with, looking over her at the same time she does.

"No, I'm fine. You go." She replies, standing up again and dusting off her dress.

"Thank god. Those idiots are awful shots!" You bite, looking back at the peacekeepers over your shoulder, Coriolanus now nowhere to be seen.

You stand up and pull your bag across your body, walking past them toward the exit as they attempt to guide you in the right direction. "Don't touch me!" You hiss, smacking their hands away.

"Coryo!" You call out, running to catch up with him in the academy hall the next morning. He slows down, glancing over his shoulder and stopping to wait for you.

"Y/N." He states, looking at you expectantly. 

"Shall we go see Lucy Gray today?" You ask, reaching up to tighten your ponytail that had come loose in your jog.

"No." He shakes his head, continuing to walk and you follow after him. 

"What? Why not? She needs us to bring her food, and we have to-"

"I'll discuss the games with her at the planned meeting this afternoon. You won't be going back to the zoo."

"Excuse me?" You ask, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks. "I know I'm like, your assistant, or whatever, but you will not tell me what I can and cannot do."

"It's too dangerous. They are dangerous." Coriolanus argues. "I won't have you ending up like Arachne."

He had been up all night writing his proposal for Dr. Gaul. It was the only thing that could get his mind off the death of his classmate, and off of you. What if it had been you? He should have known it was dangerous, it was his fault. It was his idea that the mentors get closer to the tributes and someone was killed. Arachne's blood was on his hands, and he was just relieved that it wasn't yours staining his uniform instead.

"No. No, she died because she was stupid." You whisper, looking around. "She taunted her tribute and handed her a knife, at that point it's natural selection. I am not her. I am smarter."

He stares down at you, scanning over your features as you beg him to let you continue to help. "You need me, Coriolanus. Admit that much to yourself."

"I don't need you," He spits back. "But I like you much better alive. You are the one person in this school I can stand, I won't lose you over something so reckless." He pulls his arm from your grasp and walks off.

You look around, seeing your classmates staring and you roll your eyes. "Take a picture or something." You say to no one in particular, prompting people to avert their eyes.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @babyspice3, @babyspice6, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore

if your name has a strike-through, that means i was unable to tag you so please double check your user is correct!

fill out my form linked here to join my taglist!

[dwntwn-strnlo]

MAUERBAUERTRAURIGKEIT chris sturniolo

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, dwntwn-strnlo.

↳ 𝐀/𝐍. idek how i learned this word

↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. christopher sturniolo x reader

↳ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the inexplicable urge to push everyone away.

↳ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃? no!

↳ 𝐂𝐖! fluffy sad but like its also sad fluffy but its ok its cute, one use of 'y/n'

you almost fall asleep laying there, tucked into chris' cozy hold. but his tired, hazy voice brings you to open your eyes.

"do you know what mauerbauertraurigkeit means?" he asks, rubbing his thumb along your arm.

you giggle lightly, turning your head to get a better look at chris. trying to meet his eyes, but he stares at the wall. "I dont, I've never even heard of it."

he stays disassociated, zoning off into space. "the inexplicable urge to push everyone away." his voice undeniably gets lighter as he explains it to you. clearly having to had learn about this long enough ago to know the meaning behind it so well.

failing to hide a frown, you nod. "yeah?" you whisper, "do you feel marbertrigit?"

chris gently laughs, a small smile peaking over his lips. "mauerbauertraurigkeit." he corrects you. hesitating slightly before answering your question. "I mean yeah, I feel it with almost everyone. I just want to get up and leave sometimes." his smile disappears and his frown deepens.

seeing how low his mood is, you shift your position and bring your hand up to his face. lightly caressing his cheek. "that's fair," you obviously grow tense in his hold, starting to worry that he wants to push you away. "I mean I feel that too."

he turns the two of you so he's laying on his side, facing you. "but I don't feel it with you." he whispers, trying to stop you from silently freaking out about what you thought he would say.

and it helps, your body loosens a little bit, but you still feel sad that he even knows about this. he clearly feels it if he knows about it, let alone remembers the long word. you gently smile, running your thumb over his freckles.

"I think I feel it with everyone but you, really." he stares deep into your eyes. searching for anything that might hint to what you have to say. "I feel it with my friends, my parents, even nick and matt."

you let the words ring out before giving him your input on the situation. "and thats perfectly okay, everyone needs space sometimes." you whisper, dragging your hand to the back of his head. slowly running your fingers through your hair. "im sure matt and nick have felt it too."

chris closes his eyes for several seconds, taking in your words before looking at you again. his light eyes becoming more pigmented as you stare deeper into them. "i really hope they don't."

pushing yourself closer, you press a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering there as you speak. "if there was anyway i could take this feeling away i would love, i would." you frown lightly, hugging chris as tightly and securely as possible. "i'd take it away so, so fast."

"i know you would," he whispers against your neck, deepening your hug. "thank you, y/n. i love you."

you nod, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "i love you."

TAGLIST

@thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @fenoy7 @mlimmm @prettysturniolo @ssturniolo @gabbylovesreading @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @matthewmurdockswife @jellybeanbby @slaysturniolo @iheartshifting

[silantryoo]

midnight rain — huh yunjin x non-idol!reader

yunjin can't help but reminisce about what she left to achieve her dreams.

WARNINGS ; self-depreciation, cyber-bullying

TAGS ; the huh sisters are the best, y/n is the most supportive gf ever, yunjin sacrificed sm, someone check on y/n, idek if this is a happy ending or not, yunjin using y/n as a coping mechanism tbh

GENRE ; fluff, angst (4.2k)

huh yunjin had the whole world in the palm of her hands.

there were thousands of people out there, longing for the idol's attention. she could win anyone's heart over, just with a couple words and her goofy smile, but none of them could ever compare to you.

huh yunjin might rule the world, but you still and will always rule hers.

-

yunjin met you right after she had finished produce 48.

she had left korea feeling like a shell of her former self. yunjin had gotten the taste of a dream that she so badly longed for, and one she most likely would never be able to achieve again. she had missed her only chance, and there was no getting it back.

it didn't help that mainland korea had turned its back on the then-aspiring idol.

she had read through the produce forums almost daily since then. yunjin spent hours scrolling, letting every horrible thing said build inside her like a sickly virus.

glad huh yunjin didn't make it. she's a backstabbing bitch. (+193, -21)

did huh yunjin die? i hope so (+86, -7)

i hope huh yunjin never debuts!!!!!!!!! (+273, -11)

huh yunjin knew she was done for.

she went back to new york mid-september a year later, back to the high school that she dreaded going to, another reminder that she will never, ever be who she wanted.

"um," yunjin felt a tap on her shoulder. "you know the school library isn't open twenty-four hours, right?"

"huh?" yunjin wiped her eyes. she glanced at the clock behind the strange girl. 7:12. "shit, sorry. i didn't realize."

"it's fine. i'm closing this place up soon." yunjin watched as the girl's eyes locked onto hers. she could feel her heart in her throat. "you can stay, if you want."

"i want to, uh..." yunjin cleared her throat. "i'll stay."

"okay."

yunjin forgot about everything for a moment.

"okay."

yunjin was never a studious person.

the girl had decent grades, but she never actually put effort into studying, not like her sister or her friends around her. it came to her naturally, and yunjin had other priorities such as working on her musical skills (something that she had abandoned as soon as she stepped foot on american soil once more).

but a week later, yunjin found herself sitting in front of her younger sister, watching as she did her homework.

"unnie?" her sister, rachel, eyed the brunette weirdly. "why are you here?"

"why?" yunjin stared at the empty desk in front of her, looking around the library to find the others full of papers. "can't i study?"

"no. you can't." rachel tapped her pencil. "you're literally incapable of studying."

"wow, okay." the former trainee scoffed. "i've had a change of heart."

rachel shook her head.

"i get losing in produce sucks, but i don't think you could do a 180 that fast." yunjin winced, rachel opening up fresh wounds. the older huh knew that the girl was just trying to make light of the situation, but it still hurt like hell. "it's been like... three weeks."

yunjin knew it had been three weeks. three weeks, two days, and five hours since she landed back in america. she didn't need rachel to remind her, not when the entire world already had.

"can you shut up?" yunjin snapped, gripping the backpack she was holding on her lap.

the younger huh flinched, the silence of the library amplifying yunjin's aggression.

rachel looked at her sister, yunjin's eyes shut tight as she tried to calm herself down. the young girl had never been good with emotions, but she wanted nothing more than to tell her sister that it was okay to feel upset.

(even if rachel knew yunjin wouldn't listen.)

"oh hey, rach." yunjin's eyes opened, her head turning to the sound of a familiar voice, soothing the former trainee. "what are you doing?"

rachel hummed, setting her pencil down. "working on the assignment from our econ class."

you made your way between the huh sisters, looking at the diligent note-taking of the younger girl to your left.

"why?" you muttered. you were sure that the due date didn't change. "that's due next week."

"no?" you felt your heart drop. "it's due tomorrow."

"oh shit." your eyes widened, covering your mouth. you were screwed. "i need to find nadine."

rachel looked at you with a smile. it was hard to believe that you were only a month younger than yunjin. though yunjin never cared for schoolwork, she was always hardworking when necessary. you on the other hand...

"who was that?"

rachel looked at her sister, yunjin's eyes trained at your retreating figure. "y/n?"

yunjin couldn't help but smile. the name fit you perfectly. "yeah."

"she's my classmate from my AP econ class." rachel squinted. yunjin was a bit too interested in you for it to just be curious. "she's a junior this year... why?"

yunjin's eyes widened, the former trainee's face unable to hide her surprise.

"why are you taking AP?" she tried to change the subject. "aren't you 14?"

"i wanna get into NYU." rachel sighed, picking up the pencil as she bit back multiple remarks that would leave her sister cursing at her. "leave me alone."

yunjin felt a pang in her chest.

it had slipped her mind that she had to think about university now. where she was going to commit, scholarships and loans...

yunjin tried her best to not seem fazed. dreams were meant to be dreamt, not fufilled. the sooner she knew that, the better it was for her.

"you're such a nerd."

"you're literally a theater kid, unnie." rachel bit back, too immersed in her work to notice the mood drop. "you can't talk."

yunjin stared at her sister, hoping that she would never feel that way.

(but in the back of her mind, through all the guilt and anger, she couldn't help but linger at the thought of you).

yunjin was starting to like the library.

it was quiet, and peaceful (minus the many kids who were scrambling to study for a test in the corner of the library). it let her think about everything, letting her sit in her feelings. plus, the library had the ambiance of the produce practice rooms early in the morning, something that the former trainee greatly missed.

"are you here to read through your phone again?"

yunjin could feel the hairs on her neck stand up. "huh?"

yunjin, eyes trained on your figure, watched as you took a seat across from her.

"you and rach look a lot alike." you said, humming as you set your chin on your hand. "i should've known that you were her sister."

yunjin pushed back a smile.

(she'd never tell anyone, but part of her was worried that rachel no longer looked up to her.)

"she told you about me?"

"she brags about you all the time." you smiled at yunjin's grin. "something about being a kpop idol, i dunno. i'm not good with that stuff."

the former trainee pursed her lips.

"oh, well," yunjin chuckled awkwardly, the awkwardness in her chest starting to change into pain. "i don't think that's gonna happen."

you looked her up and down. "why not?"

yunjin could think of multiple reasons, ones that she had internalized so much that she had changed the way she carried herself, but she wasn't going to say that to a random stanger (much less a hot random stranger).

"it didn't work out." yunjin said.

"oh." you scratched your cheek, yunjin nodding shallowly. "well, it's too soon to tell, y'know? you could be like, the next bts or something."

"how can i be the next bts when i'm one person?" yunjin squinted. kpop was so much more than just bts. "plus, bts isn't the only kpop group out there."

"i know that." you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the girl. "you just seem like someone who likes bts."

yunjin could feel herself blushing.

"...yeah."

"see, i already know you." yunjin looked away, afraid that she'd implode if she looked at your smile. "i just need to know your name."

"my name?" yunjin's mind went blank, nearly spitting out a random name. "jennifer."

"jennifer." you smiled harder. "nice to meet you, jennifer. i'm y/n."

and for a moment, right when yunjin's name rolled off of your tongue, yunjin felt seen.

yunjin considered herself a lot of things. as of late, most of them had turned overwhelmingly negative, but regardless, she at least knew that she was in tune with her emotions. she, unlike her sister, was able to identify them, and 'fix' them to the best of her abilities.

however, being around you the past couple of weeks you have told her differently.

yunjin knew she liked you. she liked the way you smiled at her, your gums showing through your crooked smile. she liked the way your hands felt, the way your hand would accidentally bump into hers, making yunjin long for more.

you were everything yunjin had ever dreamt of in a person, but she was sure she was just going to mess it up again.

yunjin sighed, forcing herself to stop thinking about you, a common occurrence that had been recently happening lately.

"unnie." rachel tapped her should, causing the older girl to jump.

she turned to the younger girl and her friends, her locker mirror shaking as she slammed it closed. "what?"

rachel's friend, nadine (if yunjin remembered correctly), said, "you're close with y/n right?"

yunjin clenched her jaw, a burst of anxiety running up her spine. had you gotten hurt? was something wrong? yunjin couldn't help but overthink.

"why?" she hummed.

"you guys aren't dating?" rachel asked, yunjin's eyes widening as big as saucers.

"no," yunjin scoffed, a blush covering her face. if only she could. "what?"

rachel looked at the girl beside her as yunjin avoided the younger students' gazes. her older sister was anything but subtle.

"okay." rachel said slowly, watching as yunjin perked up, waiting to hear any information about you. "derek's planning to ask her out, so i just wanted to make sure you don't go all... you on him."

"okay, i don't go all 'me' on anyone." yunjin crossed her arms. perhaps there had been one incident a year ago that almost got her suspended, but that was only because someone had hit on rachel. yunjin took no fault. "wait... derek mcavoy?"

"yeah?"

yunjin felt her stomach sink.

she considered herself many things, passionate being one of them. sometimes, yunjin passion could get in the way of her rational thinking.

"hey, do you guys know who sent me these flowers?" yunjin could hear your voice behind her, getting closer to her. "i think they're trying to kill me."

yunjin clenched her fist.

"aren't you allergic to those?" rachel blinked at you, staring at daisies that were in your hand.

how you weren't dead? she had no clue.

"severely." you sighed, looking at the bouquet in front of you. "i had to take my inhaler."

rachel shook her head, looking at her sister who was staring into the distance, face stoic and eyes glazed over. the younger girl sighed. it was happening.

"jen," you called out to her, bringing her out of her head. yunjin turned to you. "do you think one of your fans reached me?"

yunjin's eyes met yours, hardened and swirling with an emotion that you could only identify as anger and regret. looking over to rachel, she shrugged as yunjin continued to stare into your soul.

yunjin didn't want to live in regret anymore, not when her daily life was already filled with it.

"go out with me."

yunjin had never heard silence in a crowded hallway until that very moment.

"what?"

("unnie?")

"go out with me, y/n." yunjin stated, pushing down the embarrassment threatening to take over her entire body.

("should we be here?")

"uh..." you took a breath, your gummy smile making yunjin overflow with happiness. "okay."

yunjin had never felt happiness like that in her life.

"okay."

yunjin would be lying if she said she was satisfied with how her life was right now.

she had everything that anyone could want at her age. her grades, although not to ivy league standard, could get her in a good college if she kept her current pace. she had no family problems, and yunjin had always gotten along with rachel.

most of all, she was in a great relationship, celebrating her first valentine's with the girl she had slowly fallen in love with over the past four months.

but it wasn't enough, because this life will never be enough for yunjin.

"oh my god," yunjin smiled, turning her phone off as you entered her room. "is that huh yunjin from produce 48 where iz*one was created?"

although not as strong, yunjin felt a dull ache in her chest.

"you're so annoying." yunjin rolled her eyes, sitting up to greet you with a kiss.

"hey, i got into kpop for you so we could bond as a couple." you teased, humming against her lips. the taller girl smiled. "how am i annoying?"

"i didn't say i hated it." she whispered, moving over to give you a seat. "i missed you."

truthfully, yunjin did miss you, especially the way you made her forget her failures, even if it was just for a moment.

"i saw you yesterday." you teased. you grabbed her hand, smiling at her. "but i missed you too."

you leaned in once more, capturing the girl's mouth against yours. you always felt an overwhelming sense of love whenever you kissed the taller girl, but yunjin always felt a sense of fear. the fear of becoming content with a life like this, a life without doing what she loved.

you pulled away. "me or bts?"

yunjin groaned, guilt simmering in her stomach. "you're the worst."

"i know." you giggled, kissing her cheek.

yunjin sighed, leaning back as she slammed her back onto her bed.

you followed her suit, the short haired girl wrapping her arm around you as you snuggled close into her body.

"tired?" you asked, stroking her hair out of her face.

"this week has been kicking my ass." yunjin knew she had done it to herself, tuning into the japanese tabloids that week to keep tabs on iz*one's debut. "but it is our very first valentines together. plus, i think you're my gift from cupid."

you scoffed playfully, trying to pull away from the ex-trainee. "am i just an object to you, jennifer?"

"hey, no!" yunjin whined, shoving her face into your neck. you giggled, feeling the strands of her hair against your neck. "and don't use my full government name."

"sorry, sorry." you smiled, watching as her eyes looked into yours. "what do you want me to call you instead?"

yunjin thought for a moment, her eyes darting to your mouth. "mine."

your smile dropped, and you pulled away from her, the korean whining at the loss of contact.

"ugh." you sat up, shaking your head. "jesus, jen... that was disgusting."

she gasped, sitting up beside you. "you dated me knowing that i'm like this."

"no." yunjin frowned, and you couldn't help but smile at her adorable face. "i dated you because you're hot."

"wow." yunjin's mouth hung open, trying hard not to smile as you attacked her cheek with kisses as an apology. "so you only love me for my face."

you pulled back, raising your eyebrow. "who said i loved you?"

yunjin stared at you, hearing her heart break slowly.

she knew it wasn't your fault, but yunjin couldn't help but find herself feeling the same way she had at the beginning of the school year.

"i'm sorry, i--"

"i do, though. love you, i mean." you cleared your throat, awkwardly scratching your cheek as you looked at the ground. "i'm just trying to figure out how you know when i literally never told anyone until now."

yunjin smiled at you, taking your features in as if to memorize you.

"i love you too."

yunjin watched as your eyes swarmed with adoration, and nothing had ever scared her so much than the feeling of fulfillment that spread through her chest.

"you do?" you whispered, looking into her eyes, finding nothing but sincerity in them.

but something was off, you could feel it in the air. the way the weight of the room had gotten heavier, almost as if the burden of your girlfriend filled the entire thing.

yunjin looked away, and that was enough to know that deep down, she never wanted to fall in love with you, not like this.

"yeah." yunjin muttered, smiling through her smile. "i do."

you smiled through your pain, wanting nothing more than to feel love instead of regret.

"the famous huh yunjin is in love with me?" you joked, watching as her face morphed into a more playful tone.

"shut up."

"okay." you nodded, wondering how long you had left with her. "only because i love you."

"i love you too."

yunjin had meant every word she said, even if it came with layers of regret.

yunjin had heard from koeun a month ago that source music had opened back up, this time under new management, a much more competent one.

when the former trainee heard the news, she refused to get her hopes up. she had come to terms with how her life was now. yunjin still felt the what-ifs from time to time, but she couldn't do anything about it, even if she so badly wanted to.

she hid it well from her family, the longing for the spotlight, to perform. they didn't ask her questions about why she would skip dinner, sitting in front of her computer as she waited for a stupid email to pop up.

(you knew, however. and it pained you to know that your girlfriend would never truly be happy with you.)

you pushed it down, waiting for the right time to bring it up to her. you just wished it didn't have to happen today.

"hey, jen. sorry i kept you waiting. your mom tried to force-feed me once i stepped through the door. she thinks you aren't feeding me enough." you laughed as you set your sweater to the side of her room, making your way over to kiss her forehead. "happy six months, baby."

yunjin wiped her face, looking at the monitor of her laptop. "happy six months."

yunjin didn't look at you, afraid that she'd lose everything as soon as her eyes locked onto your eyes.

"what's up?" you wiped her tears. she hung her head low, the light of the monitor illuminating her tear streaks. "you don't look as happy as i do."

yunjin was silent, waiting for you to look at the screen in front of her.

you turned your head, skimming over the english text found in the email. it was bound to happen, and you had tried your hardest to prepare yourself for it. you hoped it was enough to keep the facade up long enough.

"oh, jen." you rubbed yunjin's back, watching as her tears fell harder. "are you going back?"

yunjin shook her head, not wanting to think about it. "i don't know."

"do you want to?"

you already knew your answer a long time ago.

"i don't know." yunjin didn't mean to lie, but she loved you. "i don't want to leave you."

"it's fine." you whispered in her ear, swallowing your tears back. "i'll be fine."

yunjin wrapped her arms around you, her head buried in your neck as sobs wracked her body. she couldn't do it again. she couldn't lose everything she's worked for again.

yunjin couldn't lose you for nothing.

"what if it doesn't go well, and i just ended us for nothing?" yunjin asked in between sobs, gripping the back of your shirt.

"so you want to go?"

yunjin's face fell, pulling back from you as you smiled at her with teary eyes.

yunjin loved your smile.

"baby..."

"it's okay, i promise." you nodded, trying to push through the pain. "you'll be fine. i believe in you."

yunjin shook her head. she didn't deserve it. she didn't deserve your support, not if she's leaving you like this.

"i finally accepted it." yunjin blubbered, too emotional to realize what she said. "i can't go through this again."

you bit your upper lip, looking away briefly. hearing yunjin say it was different from knowing that you were just the second choice.

"i know." yunjin's face was wet with tears, a never-ending flow of remorse. "but you won't, because you'll debut this time."

yunjin shook her head. "how do you know that?"

"because you're jennifer huh. you're the girl who came back here, fighting to be okay again even though deep down you knew that it wasn't what you wanted." you kissed her nose, watching as her nose crinkled at the contact. you smiled. "you're the girl i'm in love with."

yunjin felt a weight lift off of her shoulders.

"i'm in love with you too." yunjin sniffed. "i don't want to leave you."

you looked into yunjin's eyes, and you saw nothing but passion, passion for you.

if there was one thing that you loved yunjin, it was her overwhelming sense of passion. but at times like these, you hated it.

you watched her for a moment.

"then i'll leave you."

"what?" yunjin's eyes widened, moving her hands onto your arm. "no."

"you want us to make it work?" you asked her, almost challenging her at the ridiculous thought.

you two were high school kids, two girls who fell in love because of a missed opportunity, an opportunity that yunjin was willing to jeopardize for you.

yunjin could feel her fears coming true.

"i..."

"baby, what are they gonna think once they find out about us if we even manage to make it through until your debut?" you told her, furrowing your eyebrows.

"i don't know."

yunjin looked at you through the thick silence, almost as if she was trying to memorize you one more time.

"it's a good thing we're both private people, huh?" you chuckled, the knot in your throat becoming bigger. "imagine all the people you'd have to pay off. i mean, you guys are rich but st--"

"can you not?" yunjin whispered. "please?"

"sorry." you cleared your throat, looking away as tears were starting to form in your eyes (not yet. please.). "do you want me to go?"

"no." yunjin said with sincerity. "i just want to spend one more day with you."

yunjin stared at you desperately pleading for you to agree. she just needed to hold you one more time, to listen to your voice. she just needed one more day to memorize you before she lost you.

"okay."

one day was enough for you, even if you'd love her for the rest of your life.

"okay."

you untangled yourself from her at three in the morning the next day, eyes bloodshot and arms tired from holding her as if she was going to disappear.

you wiped your eyes, and placed your forgotten sweater on her desk, tucking a piece of paper in the pocket.

you were going to break soon, and you didn't want yunjin to see the broken pieces she'd leave in new york.

looking at the girl once more, you gave her one more kiss on the forehead, hoping that she'd remember you with only happiness and love.

you left yunjin's room, clenching your mouth as you tried your best not to sob.

"y/n?"

"night, rach." you tried to walk away, the younger girl following you to the door.

rachel looked at you with a frown, watching as you struggled to put your shoes on. "are you okay?"

you looked up at her, your eyes red as you smiled. you haven't heard someone ask that in a while.

"no." you grinned, the tears streaming down your face betraying you.

"thank you for doing this for unnie." rachel said, watching as you stiffened up. she wished she could do something more, but this wasn't her expertise. "it's probably killing you."

"i'll be fine." you whispered, standing up to face the girl.

"come study with me later?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

you hated how much rachel looked like her sister.

"okay." you patted her shoulder, rachel opening the door as you fished for your keys. "thanks rachel. you would've made a good sister-in-law."

rachel winced. not at the comment, but at the way your face morphed into an emotion she had yet to feel.

"you too."

"yunjin-ah!"

yunjin groaned as chaewon yelled at her from across the dorm. no matter how hard she tried to rest, there was someone who always needed something from her.

"you know that hoodie i was gonna borrow?" yunjin grunted, earning a smack on the head from chaewon. the taller girl looked up, staring face to face with an old piece of paper. "this fell out of it."

"huh?" yunjin didn't remember leaving anything in her pockets.

chaewon hopped on the couch, sitting beside her roommate.

"it's a letter." yunjin knew your writing anywhere.

"oh?"

dear jen,

i'm rooting for you, jen. just like i always have and just like i always will be.

i love you, jen l/n y/n.

"who's y/n?"

"someone." yunjin whispered, memories suddenly flooding her brain. "you can't wear that hoodie though, that one's special."

chaewon whined. "why?"

"you can't." yunjin stated, chaewon watching closely as she hummed, the taller girl having a small smile on her face. "now, let's go get food."

"you're so weird."

i love you too, y/n.

silan says " pls pray for me... i cannot fail my final ;-; "

[beiibeiii]

Kafka Angst, delicious, thankyou for the food. Okay this was from 11:49-12:21 jeez im tired.

Anyways, here’s thing for you!

“…I remember one morning it was just like any other, you brought coffee and I brought sweets. I remember, you spilled a little of my coffee on the table and made a surprised sound, but despite that, you looked up at me and you laughed. Your eyes were shining in the morning light— In hindsight really.. They’d always done that. A little bit brighter, with the golden sun. That’s the moment I realized I was really truly hopelessly in love with you. I told myself it was a longer mission than usual. That’s all, and yet I couldn’t stop liking you past our little meetings in the morning. I couldn’t help but want to ask more and more about yourself, the silly, little details unrelated to Elio’s script.”

At least, that’s what Kafka would like to say to you. Instead she watched through your window as you cried. Illuminated only by moonlight. It looked as though a meteor shower might be streaking across your face— quick and bright slashes. A sky full of grief, guilt, longing. Kafka couldn’t help but vaguely wondering if you must mirror her own feelings so well. Kafka was a formidable woman, that wasn’t a secret to anyone. What she wanted, she would eventually obtain. However everything else she had taken now seemed so.. Little in comparison to you. So worthless. The one thing Kafka wanted, craved— No. The one thing she needed, she couldn’t have. You. A little bit of water splashes her face. Unsurprising, there’s thunderclouds rolling overhead. Rain was bound to come sooner or later. The water rolls down her cheek, to the corner of her mouth. It takes a moment to register in her brain it’s salty, and the rain has not yet begun to fall.

She looks down at her hands, those hands that have felled many. Her tongue, which has been used to manipulate peoples minds into showing them horrors to last a lifetime, that tongue that has spit thousands of lies. Her eyes, which have watched on as an opponent met a slow, agonizing end. The eyes that showed a frenzied glee at the suffering. How could she ever be worthy of you? The shining bright light in the universe who could never be dimmed. One so pure and precious. She felt her chest tighten in shame. She could never wash the blood from her hands, it stained her entire being. Deep in her mind, a maze to all (even herself) she knew that if given the chance to cleanse her sins, she probably would not take it.

So the Stellaron Hunter turns, quickly scaling her way down to the bustling streets before you might see that familiar shape crouching across the way. Your eyes make their way to the window as you see quick movement, but as fast as it appeared it disappears just as well. And a drop of water hits the glass. And another. Until your window is pelted with the sky’s tears, and the sidewalks are a black mass of umbrellas.

I hope this was this much 🤏 entertaining to you

WHAJHSGD ANONIE?? THIS IS SO AMAZING WAAA IDEK IF I CAN ADD TO IT BC ITS ALREADY PERFECTT!! IM GETTING FED SO WELLL SHJSSJ SOBBING KAFKA ANGST HITTING TOO HARD RN AJSJSJS SHES SO BABYYY I WANNA HUG HERR 😕💗

kafka wears gloves to try to hide the blood that has stained her hands to try to make herself feel better :(

kafka probably has you as a live wallpaper on her phone. she would press down on her phone and the short video of you on that flower field would play. your smiling brightly as the rays of the sunset glowed so beautifully on you. lighting up your smile even more. she looks at it with a bittersweet memories as she reminds herself as to why she joined the stellaron hunters - to understand herself to be a better person and see that beautiful smile on your face everyday. :(

she listens to voice messages or watches videos she has saved of you whenever shes stressed. hearing your voice and the way you smile at her clears her head. calming her down. she can't help but grow a little tired of hearing the same videos and voice recordings. shes determined to get some new ones soon. <3

whenever you post on your snapchat stories, instagram, tiktok, any social media platform, kafka is always on an anonymous account. she constantly comments sweet things under your posts.

"hope you had fun <3"

"so beautiful, like always dear 💗"

"such a pretty smile you have :)"

kafka doesnt even try to change the way she writes to make you not catch on. she likes your posts and is usually the first one to see them too. You can't help but sense the familiarity of the way the commenter writes their comments. its ever so awfully familiar as to how kafka types. you want to believe it but you know its not her :(

kafka secretly hopes you recognise that its her. she knows it won't happen, but she will still keep believing that you will <3

[lowkeyrobin]

Hiiiiii just wanted to put in a request of Trevor Spangler x reader angst where reader is trapped with a hostile ghost, just in the mood for some angst 🤭

ooooo okay okay I see the vision ; thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy! I need gbfe to release on digital bc I'm in desperate need to get new banners/headers. sigh ; post writing robin here, I missed the whole angst bit somehow bc idek how to write good angst so I apologize

TREVOR SPENGLER ; hostile ghost exposure therapy

summary ; youre a scientist in the making working with the ghostbusters squad and expose hostile ghosts and ghouls to human kind. sometimes it can be rough, though

warnings ; language, choking, weird ghost shit

disclaimers ; ik ghostbusters usually focuses on the ghouley types of ghosts but standard ghosts were the idea for this lol. I've been watching The Boys explore haunted places all day so what can I say

word count ; 783

masterlist

Proton barriers this, ghost containment that. Whatever Lars was speaking about didn't matter to you at this moment. What did matter was trying to help this new, very hostile, ghost adjust to being in the presence of a human.

The barrier quickly slips down, then right back up once you step inside the room. Glass surrounds the exterior, then Lars steps away, leaving you to do your thing. Lucky waves a few feet away, wishing you a silent good luck before getting back to work.

Trevor and Phoebe talk about with Lucky, Lars, and Podcast, testing out one of the newer machines in the lab. You face the approximate direction of the ghost, not exactly able to see it without its permission.

You carefully sit down in a chair across from the one left empty from it, bathing in the silence before speaking.

"My name's Y/n, what's yours?" You ask, not really expecting an answer. Thank God this was a standard ghost and not a ghoul. You didn't think you had the patience for that today. "It's alright if you don't want to tell me. I just want to know why you're so hostile to make you that way. I'm not here to judge, I have good intentions. I promise you that"

Step one, build trust and rapport.

Silence.

You internally nod, moving your legs in a criss-cross manner to get a little more comfortable. Apparently, the ghost didn't like this silence and chucked a ceramic vase, which sat on the coffee table between the chairs, towards you. It just barely misses you and breaks on impact with the wall behind you, causing you to flinch a bit. The dusty, broken ceramic clatters onto the floor, creating a million pieces out of the used-to-be one-piece vase.

You keep your composure, not giving the undead the attention that she wanted. You sit in silence, a clear look of 'not taking shit' on your face.

"Stupid bitch" It whispers into your ear, catching you off gaurd. You feel a shiver run down your spine as a wave of coolness washes over you.

You lightly sigh, "We can sit here and insult each other all you want. I'm just here to help" You speak, leaning back in your chair.

Over the course of the next ten or so minutes, you hear petty insult after insult, like this ghost was trying to dig into your skin and was just miserably failing. You'd gotten used to this long ago. When would they ever learn?

Suddenly, you feel a tight sensation around your throat, which you nearly panic at feeling, considering you can feel the air suddenly leaving you. You grab at your throat, choking and gasping for air, trying to get whatever hands were on you off out of pure human instinct.

This has happened a few times, where the ghosts will put hands on you. It's never escalated to immediate choking, though, which was why it worried you so much. This was a very hostile ghost. It wasn't just going to stop. It wanted to hurt.

"Get off of me!" You joke, instinctively kicking out towards the ghost, who's obviously unable to feel it. "I want to help you!"

You feel your face grow cold, and your eyes become heavy. The transparent figure now becomes slightly visible, still very much opaque as it stands in front of you, arms stretched out to squeeze down on your throat.

You hear some muffled shouting outside, then a lot of mechanical wirring and beeping. Lars and Trevor came to your rescue, the older man cautiously pulling down the proton fields while the teenage boy ran in to help you.

You don't know exactly what happened within the next few seconds, but the forceful grip on your throat was pushed away, and you were quickly ushered past the proton barrier again.

Trevor holds you up as you choke and gasp for air, already feeling your throat begin to bruise.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" He quickly asks, sitting you down on the floor.

You nod and cough some more, trying to regulate the amount of air swarming to your lungs. You pound on your chest like you were choking on an actual something, wanting the painful choking to stop.

Once it does end, Trev quickly wraps you in a hug, trying to make sure you were okay.

"I'm okay, I'm fine. Just fucking hurt" You nod

"Are you sure? Phoebe, go get them some water." He quickly speaks, turning back to Phoebe, Podcast, and Lucky, who were concerningly watching from afar. Phoebe nods and quickly jogs out to the kitchen/lunchroom area.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm okay. Thank you"

[turnin9pag3]

GUYS ITS REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACKS BIRTHDAY I LOVE HIM SM SO IN HONOR OF HIM HERE ARE A TON OF THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF HIM

the movie 500 days of summer

the book a list of cages

the show i am not okay with this

the character viggo grimborn

the animal sugar glider (dont ask y idek)

All of the following lyrics:

“screaming while the exit signs read heavens waiting” (circles, ptv)

“im gonna tear out the thread one by one from your skin til your bones feel embarrassed from all the attention” (i dont care if your contagious, ptv)

“why dont you call me out for leaving all the lights on? why dont you call?” (growing/dying, the backseat lovers)

“i know that good lives make bad stories” (sober to death, car seat headrest)

“youll ask why and there will be no answer so you ask for how long and there will be so answer then youll ask what can i do and there will be no answer and eventually you will shut up” (fill in the blank, car sear headrest)

“karma police arrest this man he talks in math he buzzes like a fridge hes like a detuned radio” (karma police, radiohead)

“try to, try to forget that your bones will dismantle and the dreams you had they’ll collide with time” (re do, modern baseball)

“laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes and perfect posture but youre barley scraping by” (the places you have come to fear the most, dashboard confessional)

“oh you never seem to notice my heart beats for you so ill open you up and make yours beat for me too” (mx sinister, idkhbtfm)

“and i went crazy again today looking for a strand to climb looking for a little hope” (paper bag, fiona apple)

“why am i always the bad guy when im just trying to help. this body means nothing to me. at all.” (this body means nothing to me, shrimp)

“id rather die than have to cry in front of you. fight or flight id rather lie than tell you im in love with you” (fight or flight, conan gray)

“im my own worst enemy… sometimes i dont wanna feel nothing on the inside” (complete collapse, sws)

“i dont want what you have i want to be you… my name is brutus but the people will call me rex” (brutus, the buttress)

he is probably my favorite character out of everything ive read or watched. his storyline is tragic and beautiful and im honestly obsessed with how its written out. an unknown martyr. the most poetic way to die.

Make sure to say happy birthday to the stars tonight for him! (or the sea 🤭)

[wsknbfanaccnt]

So, Since you love Akashi can I ask you for any Akashi relationships headcanons you have in your head? Especially I like to read about crush phase. But anything you can imagine is good! Hope this's fine! Have you a great day! I'll answer you tomorrow! With love, Tilli.

HI TILLI IDEK IF YOURE STILL ALIVE ON THIS APP LMFAO

but yes I do love Akashi and I would love to do this request heheh~

I hope you enjoy!

Akashi Relationship Headcanons

let's start with the crush phase

so imo this boy wouldn't really have a "crush" phase per se, like the ones that we would have as children and like get nervous around your crush

instead its the opposite. its that feeling of letting his walls down and being himself around you was what intrigued him

since he has to act so intimidating and professional most of the time, he feels relaxed and comfortable whenever he's with you

and he doesn't feel the need to impress you all of the time

that kind of person is exactly what he needs in a relationship

and you were real, unlike those people from other companies where they only really care about money and nothing else

so even if it seemed you were just acting normal, he was so interested in you having such honest opinions, not caring about what others think and prioritizing yourself

i feel like he would kinda look up to you in this sense

eventually he realizes that he started to miss your prescence. Your laugh, your voice, your smile.. everything about you

and soon you're all he thinks about <3

when he's doing work he catches himself daydreaming about you, just replaying in his head your interactions from earlier that day and smiling to himself, feeling warmth in his heart

OMFG THIS IS GIVING ME BUTTERFLIES

and whenever you're with him, times flies by so fast and he wishes he could slow it down so that he could feel at ease more in his daily life

but of course, he noticed that you were catching feelings as well. This boy never misses a single hint of nonverbal communication

the way you tucked your hair behind your ears when you talked to him, when you get giddy when you see him, and your voice gets higher pitched when you talked to him

he knows the classic signs lol

and he never misses a single one because he pays attention to you that much

but eventually he decides to make you his, because also he hates it when he sees you laughing and having fun with other boys

this jealous man

he needed to claim whats his LMFAO

he doesnt do anything fancy to ask you, actually he did something really basic

he just pulled you aside after school to somewhere private and asked the magic question

you know him, he doesn't like to brag about his money or anything

and he would like to be a normal boy for once thank you very much

so this was the perfect opportunity to experience something that a lot of people experience in their life, like confessing to their crush while youre walking to your house

when he went home that night he was giggling to himself in private and just randomly smiling whenever hes doing stuff

his servants know exactly whats happening i think

okay the crush section is getting long LETS GO TO THE RELATIONSHIP SECTION

this man is the most green flag man you have ever seen (aside from his personality disorder and his jealousy issues)

he reassures you a lot, ALWAYS makes sure you're safe (he has never missed a day of the sidewalk rule)

he's not much of a texter, but he always always ALWAYS texts you good morning and goodnight no matter what

if he didn't youd be worried tbh

he loves to go on random little dates with you, to the cafe, to the park, just little things like that because what he likes best is to spend time with you and stare at you because he just adores you with every inch of his being (like a lot of inches👀)

occaisonally he'd call you and be like "lets go to Italy this weekend"

yes he doesn't like to show off his money but he loves spoiling you more

he knows how to communicate especially about in a relationship (i say he knows how to but tbh hes just trying his best)

he knows to reassure you with every insecurity and problems that you two might face

he always reminds you that he loves you so much and he'd fight the entire world for you

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

connected ch 6

genre: idek.

synopsis: after meeting chan at the cafe, you have a scary experience and need a little saving (it would never happen this way irl but it makes for a good chapter!)

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: fear, blood, attempted knife attack

an: oooooh the connected series is back~~ tbh i forgot about this series. i lost inspiration for it and then forgot it existed. but its recently gotten some attention and a couple people asked for the next part so i picked it up again. i guess we will see what happens with it.

masterlist • pervious chapter • next chapter

despite the short meeting, your heart felt full. it felt warm. it felt.. happy. you sat alone at your table for a little while, finishing your drink, replaying the encounter in your head, not looking forward to another two hour drive home. but you felt the trip was totally worth it. ten minutes with chan was worth ten hours of driving. but eventually, you needed to head home. it was starting to fall dark and you wanted to be in your car and on the road by then.

standing, you tossed your empty cup into a nearby trash can before exiting the store. your feet pitter pattered against the sidewalk as you pulled at a loose string on your sweater, daydreaming about him. remembering what his dimples looked like in real life, the little squeak in his laugh, the literal electric shock between your hands and his. this was your yn moment. and you had no one to share it with. but that’s okay.

your phone buzzed in your pocket.

i’m really sorry i had to leave so quickly. one of the guys needed me. please be safe going home. lmk when you get there.

you smiled, holding the phone close to your chest. you began to type out a response when you heard something to your left.

you were suddenly aware of the presence of another person. you didn’t want to turn and look directly, so you tried to see as much as you could in your peripheral. it was too dark to make out much. you definitely thought it was a man and he was wearing dark clothing. your good mood had now been replaced by fear. how far were you from your car? not far, but your car is in a multi level parking garage. did you really want to walk into an enclosed space, just for this person to follow you in? you wracked your brain with what to do.

your phone buzzed again.

are you already driving? i don’t mean to distract you. i just hope your not upset with me.

chan.

you clicked on his contact and pressed call. you slowly brought the phone to your ear, trying to remain calm and pretend the man wasn’t scaring you.

“hello?” he picked up on the first ring.

“chan?” you shakily said into the phone.

“yeah its me. are you okay? what’s wrong?” he asked. he could hear the shaking in your voice. his worry starting to rise.

“i’m walking back to my car from the coffee shop and i think im being followed.” you whispered into the phone.

“you what? followed? why do you think that? what’s happening?” he rapid fired his panic questions at you.

“i— im walking on the sidewalk and there’s a man in dark clothing walking behind me to my left. i think he’s been with me for a while. we’re the only ones on the street and it’s getting dark. and my car is in a garage but i’m scared he’s going to follow me in there and i don’t know what to do.” you were rambling, your breaths ragged now, coming out in pants. tears were pricking the corners of your eyes.

you were quickly approaching the garage and had to make a plan, quick. you could hear chan say something in korean to someone in the background. he sounded firm, authoritative.

“okay. baby listen to me.” he said, his voice now calm and soothing. “i’m close to the coffee shop. i’m walking in your direction. just stay calm okay?”

you nodded but then mumbled an mmhmm when you realized he couldn’t see you. you checked out of the corner of your eye and the man was still there. he was a little farther back, but still there. he wasn’t on his phone or anything, he had his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. you made it to the parking garage but you kept walking, deciding it wasn’t a good idea to go in.

“i had minho call the police and they’re on their way but they said it’s going to be a minute. im going to make it to you first. okay?.”

“okay..” you shakily breathed into the phone.

“you’re doing so good, sweetheart. just breathe.” he said.

you took a deep breath. and that’s when you felt something sharp poke into your back. you froze.

“you all alone out here, darlin?” the man asked from behind you, his free hand brushing the hair from your neck. you shivered.

you heard chan curse into the phone before you could hear his shoes, and maybe another pair, pounding into the pavement. coming at you in a full sprint.

“why don’t you hang up the phone and we won’t have any trouble.” the man said, punctuating his statement by applying more pressure to the knife he had to your lower back.

you did as he said, slowly lowering the phone from your ear and pressing the end button. your other hand was very slowly and carefully moving to your pocket for your pepper spray.

but before you could make a move, the pounding footsteps got louder and louder. the man looked over his shoulder to see two men running at him at full speed. he dropped the knife and pushed you to the ground before he took off down the sidewalk.

“ouch..” you whimpered, examining your scraped and bloody palms. one person kept running past, chasing the man. and then the other was in front of you. chan. he cradled your tear stained face in his hands, searching for any injuries.

“are you okay?” he asked, moving his examination down your body before seeing your palms. he pulled your hands into his lap. his head snapped up then, in the direction of the assailant and the man chasing him. is that…?

“changbin! let him go! it’s too dangerous!” chan called after them.

but changbin didn’t listen. he lunged and tackled the man to the ground.

“damn it, changbin.” chan muttered, before turning his attention back to you. “stay here, okay? i have to go help changbin.”

“no!” you clung onto his arm, panicked to be alone in the dark again. “please don’t leave me.”

his face softened. “okay, honey. okay. but i have to help him. come with me?” he stood and offered you his hand. you sniffled and stood also, placing your damaged hand in his before you both took off jogging down the sidewalk.

there was a small scuffle before changbin was sitting on top of the other man, using his legs to pin the man’s arms to his sides. changbin pulled his fist back, about to strike the man in the face.

“changbin! no.” chan said. it was more of an order than it was a statement. changbin turned to face you and chan, his fist still raised.

“hi! you must be yn.” changbin said, smiling, like he didn’t have your attacker pinned underneath him. “i’m changbin.” he introduced himself.

chan rolled his eyes and you chuckled a little. the attacker thrashed under changbin trying to free himself. changbin turned his attention back to the attacker who then started cowering, afraid of being punched.

you reached into your pocket and pulled out your pepper spray. you handed it to changbin. “here. use this.” you said.

changbin took the small can from you and examined it. he aimed the nozzle at the man before instructing you and chan to take a step back and cover your mouth and nose with your shirts. you did as he said and he also covered his own mouth and nose before spraying the man directly in the face. the man screamed and flopped around on the concrete. changbin hopped off of him and stood by your side as you watched the man cry on the ground. you could hear police sirens in the distance.

“thanks for saving me.” you sniffled, looking between your two heroes.

——

you had to file a police report and explain what happened in detail. chan stayed with you the whole time, holding your bandaged hands and stroking soft soothing circles into your skin. when it was all said and done, you had been at the police station for about an hour.

walking out the front door, there was a black suv with tinted windows waiting.

“i thought you might want to stay with me. i don’t really think you’re in the right state of mind to drive two hours home.” chan said, opening the car door for you. you slid into the back seat and he slid in next to you. the car took off.

“stay with you?” you whispered, so the driver wouldn’t hear.

“why are you whispering?” chan whispered back. he laughed and said at his normal volume: “the driver can’t hear us.”

“oh.” you were embarrassed.

“you can have my hotel room for the night and i’ll sleep in felix’s room. no big deal.” he smiled at you.

“okay..” you said, giving him a weak, tired smile back and looking out the window at the passing buildings, you wondered what in the world happened to your life?

taglist: to be added or removed, just lmk @thinkingaboutlana @tamlinsfiddle @everythingboutkpop

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[cnihachu]

whats ur opinion on generation loss niki? was curious because she's probably my favorite of nihachus characters,,extremely well written imo

I LOVE HER SOO MUCH OKAY . tbh i rlly rlly wish in general genloss went more into character deveklopment or was just Longer bc they had SUCH good personalities and god i want to know More..

what makes gl!niki for me is her acting- she is chillingly good at eliciting a reaction, and i think thats the goal both in and out of character. honestly i need to rewatch genloss im rusty but the way she saves the majority of her distress for when she's (mostly) off camera speaks to how she knows she needs to be what she precieves as likable, and playing up what she thinks are her 'best' qualities like kindness, and less explicitly, her ability to hide her emotions and please an audience. she needs to be good content for the audience if she has any hope of survival. she thinks no one will want her if she isn't nice and easy to digest. she doesnt percieve worth in herself if she isn't what shes assigned to be, a nice and kind person. even under extreme distress. even when she could die.

i know some people percieve her crying/fear to be fake or ingeniune but i really prefer the take (semi confirmed from cc!Niki) that she's switching it off or repressing her real emotions in a desperate attempt of survival.. it would be really suprising for someone to not be so incredibly scared in that situation. i remember when niki did a stream discussing genloss she said she pulled a lot from the reactions of how people would comment on her crying in stressful events like mcc and that it was directly kind of taken from those experiences of being a public figure (and by extention a woman in these spaces bc lets be real thats why she gets that backlash). i think thats so incredibly powerful to use those experiences to build a character it makes me sick cc!niki ilysm. gl!niki ilysm.

a direct quote from cc!niki about gl!niki: "i am literally locked up on a spinning wheel of death, and of course i will cry, but i will not show it- i will not be able to show it to the audience, i cannot show them that i'm scared. i cannot show them that i'm tired and- and sad, and fearing for my life, because that is what is expected of me. because the outcome that happens if i show how i feel is worse than the fate of death that i am fearing right now."

so in a way (to my small rabbit brain) gl!niki is an incredibly chilling take on the way fandom and the public treat women in content creation space as machines who can only express emotions that are pretty or convient for the audience.. like. even in an incredibly terrifying situation gl!niki steels herself to be more 'calm' and plays into what people percieve as the Single facet of her personaliy, being Nice.. Like, 'look at me! i'm completely rational, not overly emotional! i'm so useful and likable! i'm good content!" and ITS INSANE!!!!!!! ITS INSANE!!! HOW DO U COPE WITH THIS. I FEEL ILL. i nihachu defender lover brain so like . this is all just my own rambling idek . i love her to pieces </3

[cl00udyyanan]

HII! could i req a cyno x reader, he gets jealous or somth? 🙁 idek i just want cyno.,😭😭😭🙁🙁🙁🙁😭‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

i don't know much about cyno so pls forgive if this is ooc

sickening gaze

synopsis: tighnari has all of your attention while you help him, and cyno is feeling some type of way

warning: jealousy, slight possesion maybe, cyno being rude abt tigharni, tighnari lowkey hitting on your

characters: cyno x reader, tigharni

notes: cyno is so petty in this like hello,, i hope this came out okay i enjoyed writing this. it was either tigharni or alhathaim but, i didn't feel like keeping up with writing two pessimistic characters. tighnari kinda out of place tho im on cyno’s side

IM SORRY THIS IS BAD

•┈୨♡୧┈•

with eyes trained onto you like a hawk, the general mahamatra was shooting daggars from his irises, cursing both you and tighnari. cyno was leant against a tall tree, bark poking into his back, arms crossed and biting his lip. he was hiding behind the lush greenery wanting nothing more than to leave this damn forest and just take you home; to have you all alone with you only focused on him. tighnari was hunched over on the ground, an arm loosely splayed on your back with his other holding a small roll of bandages. whilst walking with your boyfriend, you had ran into tighnari with a little bunny who was bleeding so you had offered to help. you took the bandaids from him and rolled it around the white furred creature, he cooed at the animal softly as you did so.

"who knew you were so sweet with such creatures?" tighnari spoke as he pet the bunny, trying to get it to relax. his curious gaze came to face you. you let out a small chuckle.

"oh... you know, i had a couple bunnies growing up so i guess i know some things." you looked up to him, wide eyed, "its kinda weird how often you come across injured bunnies."

"is that so? well no wonder, you’re as cute as this one here..." his hand went from the small bunny to your chin, lifting your face towards him with a whisk of his finger.

cyno could kill him with no remorse, the way tighnari was touching you so comforting should be illegal. how could he be so okay with doing such a thing in front of him?

this was supposed to be a nice walk in the forest with just you and him, he was finally mustering the courage to hold your hand and here you were cuddle and google eyed with this dope. of course cyno didn't say anything, as you were helping a poor bunny and he didn't want to seem possessive. yet when his own friend touched you so tenderly he had an urge to pull out his pole arm and smack his fox friend on the head with it.

you patched the creature up, and tighnari held him in his arms like a small baby. he heard a grunt that he had looked up over to the white hair man sulking over by a long tree. cyno's brown cheeks were a dark shade and his red eyes were staring down at the grass. his foot grazing the ground back and forth idley. the archer turned to you, watching you dust the loose grass and sand off of your knees before he spoke,

"whats wrong with him?" he asked quietly. you looked up, head waving back and forth before you landed on your boyfriend who imitated that of a child casted away in the corner. you shrugged and tapped tigharni on the shoulder, telling him you'd be back.

cyno saw your shadow approaching him from the grass, he kept his eyes down, refusing to look you in the face. his breathing became irregular and his stomach felt like it was swirling up a concoction. you stood infront of him, a mischevious smile on you face before you lent down to get in his point of view.

"cyno?" you quipped, waving your hand in his face, he snapped his head away, pointing to the other direction. oh, so he wants to catch an attitude. "fine, i'll just spend the rest of my walk with tighnari." you whirled away, not letting his petty feelings bother you, but before your fore foot could even land to the ground, the snow haired boy grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, "no." he said softly, his ruby eyes peering softly at yours.

he held you for a while, not saying anything. slightly embarassed, you turned back around to find your friend, seeing he got the picture and had distanced himself away, playing with the bunny. cyno grabbed your chin and pulled it to him, "why do you keeping seeking him, focus on me." you laughed at him, was he getting all this worked up over tighnari, really?

"sweetie, calm down okay? it snothing like that i swear, he's your friend don't be like that. you haven't even said hi to him this whole time."

"he doesn't deserve it." he muttured as he got from the tree with you hand in his, slightly tugging it like he’s trying to get you to start walking in the other direction. you let him take you, considering your work with tighnari was done with, though you felt bad to leave him with no parting words.

cyno had taken you deep into the forest, before he stopped suddenly. he leaned into your face, eyes pondering yours. he pulled your hand to rest on his shoulder as he wrapped his hand around your waist, bringing you in by the middle of your back, kissing your plush cheeks.

“whats wrong with you?”

“..you smell like him.” he pouted, hands prancing along your jawline, as he continued to smother you with his lips

“you’re so weird.”

“im weird? i thought i was cyno.”

you bit your lips, holding back a chuckle because that joke was not funny at all. yet you fell a victim to him when his gentle eyes looked at you so lovingly. even the worst of his jokes could get you to crack this way. he softly placed his lips on yours, taking in your sweet scent. he looked into your eyes softly, his cheeks still flushed.

“...you love me?” he muttured.

“of course i do...” nuzzling into his chest, taking in his warm scent of sand, wood and musk. strong built arms carressing your lower back, pulling you into him ever so tight, like if he let you go, you’d slip away. 

“good” he pecked your forehead, resting his chin upon the crown of your head. you relished in this sweet moment in his arms, knowing that all though he can be a bit rash, he only loves you so.

little did you know he was wide eye staring at tighnari from a mile way, the two of them swearing eachother out with only eyes alone. how sweet.