#it was harmless yet still funny enough to share x

[junglejim4322]

Casually said whoever I end up with in the end will probably be a man which ended in a 20 minute convo asking me why I’ve decided this for myself

[solbaby7]

Make You Feel My Love

pairing: azriel x reader

[ part 2 to Make You Feel Something ]

warnings: sexual tension, possible sexual descriptions, not intended for readers under 18, swearing, best friends who fuck, possible typos

summary: Late nights and dim lights with a Shadowsinger who bares it all when it comes to you.

[part 1 ]

���

Practice makes perfect.

At least that’s what you told yourself every time the sun would set and Azriel came strolling through the doors of your bedchamber. He’s grown rather confident as a muse, such perfect features translating on dozens of pages in your sketchbook and countless canvases with him draped over the throne or laid out in a field of flowers. Two of them were a set, a close enough depiction of the shadowsinger in a spring, water up to his chest and inky hair dripping over his forehead—he looked peaceful, like the world hadn’t yet taken a piece of his soul. Most were divided between the two of you; stolen slices of sunshine and bargained bits of darkness hung proudly on his walls, even the nude one had its own home in his closet. “Where do you want me?”

“On the bed.”

He raises a brow, a smirk growing in the corner of full lips but he obeys. “Skipping right to the fun parts, are we?”

“Not this time,” You state firmly, arms crossing at your chest and putting your foot down. “I have three sketchbooks filled with half-finished pieces because you and that silver tongue of yours.”

“You’ve never complained about it before.” Azriel plops onto your bed face down, arms curling under the same pillow he was burying his face in. “Why don’t we do this in your room more often? I’m sure sitting for hours will be much more bearable with the smell of you surrounding me.”

“We stopped doing that because you kept falling asleep.” You’re not even facing him, bare feet smacking against the hardwood floors as you dragged over a chair and the small side table beside it. The soft blue book you pull out is far more intricate than any of the others he’d seen you use before, a special set of charcoals were pullout and sharpened. Stained fingers smear at the page, giving a rough base to sketch upon and Azriel finds he falls in love with the messy ponytail you pull your hair into each time before you’d started.

Azriel made a little noise, humming into the comfort of your sheets after shrugging off his shorts; no underwear this time. Just endless miles of hard muscles and giant wings that settled into the soft fabric of your duvet. “Even better, I’m quite handsome when I sleep.”

“You snore.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Is it? Shall I ask Rhys to join us? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind poking around in my head to help confirm.”

It was a harmless taunt; one he probably still wouldn’t have laughed at even when you were just friends. But now—this. The late nights and early mornings laughing about nothing, fingers smeared in whatever medium you’d chosen to use that time. Sometimes it would lead to more; feverish mouths molding against one another, your fingers tracing at bare skin while Az’s greedy hands tug off your clothes. Soft promises branded at your flesh each time your bodies connected, shadows in a frenzy, touching the places his hands couldn’t get to but he swallows every moan, every blissed out whimper until he was full off you and the air you breathed.

Other times were softer, two friends bonding over something they didn’t have to share with others. A reprieve from expectations; a place where Azriel bared his body and allowed another to find a beauty in him he had yet to see. “You wouldn’t dare—you’d get too jealous having someone else looking at me the way you do.”

“Maybe, I’ll just think of a different memory; of me before a mirror with my hands between my thighs.”

It’s too easy to push the right buttons; amber irises peering at you over the plush pillow beneath him, wide shoulders tense and body half covered by the sheets. “That’s not funny.”

You’re already sketching the outlines of the bed frame, the mattress and the crinkled pillows. Rough outlines of a figure beginning to form before your very eyes as you continued, fresh linen sheets, a thick duvet that smelled of you bunched low at Azriel’s waist. “I wasn’t laughing.” He shifts in bed, hair messy and gaze darkening when taking you in; giving you time to change your words. “You moved.”

“Take it back.”

“Why?” You poke harder, amused grin plastered on your face. “You jealous?”

To your surprise, Azriel nods; just once but it’s enough to have your stomach doing flips. “I don’t like the thought of someone else seeing you like that—someone that’s not me.”

The movement doesn’t alter the direction of the sketch too much and the way he rests on his side, upper body propped up by one strong arm while the other rested over his stomach and he’s not as awkward with his hands anymore—allowing them to just be. You don’t dare look in his eyes, fearful of the secrets he’d lure out of you and you linger around areas that have already been completed. The strong lines of his waist, the dark trail of hair, the muscles of his abdomen that seems to flex slightly when your stare lasts a beat too long. “That your way of telling me not to be seeing other people?”

“Have you been seeing other people?”

You try to ignore the fire that burns in your belly at the jealously he openly displays and your hand pulls away from the paper, a brow raised in question. “Have you?”

It’s difficult to maintain eye contact under the intensity of such a rich gold and you’re fairly certain he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest. This was the closest either of you had gotten to verifying what it was you were doing and suddenly the warmth from the fire is entirely too much. A finger hooks under the neckline of your shirt, tugging gently in a motion that Azriel doesn’t miss, tongue darting out to wet his lip. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

True.

It wasn’t like he had the time to juggle another woman between all of his responsibilities and spending every spare second sneaking off into whatever room was empty for a few minutes of skin on skin, mouth to mouth and tongue sliding over tongue. “Maybe, I want to hear you say it.” It comes out a little shy, head tilting to the side to rest against your hand and shadows twist up your ankle, around your calf and over your knees. They stop at your thighs, the cool sensation almost resembling the pressure of hands when they tease at the hem of your sleep shorts. “Az—“

“You have to hear the words?” The shadowsingers voice goes devastatingly low, unbearably taunting; luring you in and daring you to bite. Play with me. His shadows seem to croon, tracing letters in your skin too gentle for you to decipher but the heated stare greedily feasting on your reactions is a big enough clue. “Can you not feel it in how I touch you? How I handle you?” The cool pressure creeps past the silk of your shorts, fleeting touches grazing spots that needed more before they dart off to the next. “Is it not clear when I look at you?”

“Azriel—“ It comes out breathless, bones melting to nothing in the cushions of the couch. “The drawing.”

“Who’s stopping you, sweet thing?” The shadows do the work for him, raising the charcoal back in your grasp while the other extends out your sketchbook. “I’ll keep still while you finish.”

A double meaning in the best case.

No doubt, this was his payback for making him spill his load in your hand like some teenager still learning their bodies.

His shadows are relentless, memorizing every curve and branding their touch in their wake. Focusing is near impossible, hands shaky and breathing choppy when forcing yourself to relax; to continue drawing the tortuously beautiful body before you. Az smirks when you pause, throat bobbing with a swallow when you feel the cool caress graze your chest, teasing over peaked nipples. You can feel him following your every move, every drag of pencil to paper; a few of the lines are less than neat but you can’t find it in you to care when Azriel’s attention on you is so addictive. “Can you feel it now?”

“I’ve always felt it, Az.” There’s such vulnerability laced in your tone, eyes trained on your paper; copying the furrow of his brow, the straight line of his nose, the plush of his mouth. “Just need to hear you say it.”

There’s a brief pause; enough time to sign the page and neatly put your utensils away but instead of tearing the page free like usual, you shut the baby blue book and tie it tight. “I want you,” He confesses when you stand, your back is to him and the words come out so quiet you barely hear it. Your body stills and your soft inhale of breath is encouragement enough for him to keep going. “—as more than just friends.”

A slow glance over your shoulder, book still in your grasp and now you’re definitely sure he can hear your heartbeat—everyone in the whole damn city probably could. “Yeah?”

He nods, a smile creeping in the corner of full lips at the way you’re looking at him and Azriel shifts to make room when you move closer, hands and knees sinking into the mattress when you sit yourself on top of him. “I want to kiss you in front of people,” Warm palms dips under your shirt, strong hands gripping at your sides with the most perfect pressure when explores the shape of you. Az lets a pleased sound rumble in his chest at the way you fall into him, allowing him access to a body he’d laid claim to long before he’d ever even touched you. “And have a cheesy picture of your face hanging up behind me in my office.” A blush fans, soft laughter filling the room but inside your screaming; on top of the world with no plan on how to get down. “Just want you. Only you.”

His hands keep trailing higher, pausing at the curve of your breasts and his pupils go wide when you grind down on him, pulling the shirt clean off and throwing it somewhere behind you. “Then have me, I’m yours. Only yours.”

[echekate]

Zombie apocalypse AU HCs

gn!reader x Hobie Brown

tw: violence, wounds, blood, mentions of amputation

So AU where you live in a zombie apocalypse, like a year after the catastrophy. You belong to a town of survivors and Hobie is a loner who prefers to survive on his own tho he doesn't mind other ppl if they don't threaten him.

You're one of scouts of your town who go outside and search for all sorts of supplies and maybe even other survivors who might need help and want to join your commune.

You just do your usual thing, rummaging through an old abandoned building when suddenly you drop something or make any other kind of loud noise and it appears that this building is not so abandoned after all - there's quite a company of groaning monsters who now really want to take a bite from you.

So of course you run for your life but the only way is up the stairs and the small mob almost corners you in one of the corridors when suddenly a door opens and you get dragged inside by a strong hand. The door immediately closes behind you, and now it's just the two of you in a small room that seems to be safe enough.

You try to aim your gun at the stranger, but your hands shake violently and there's not much you can do, so the guy smirks at your attempts but still raises his hands to show you he's harmless.

That's how you and Hobie meet each other.

It only takes you so much time to calm down and realise he's no threat. You share your food with him to thank him and talk quietly, patiently waiting for the groaning horde to go away.

It's funny to see a guy so dedicated to certain aesthetics in the middle of the apocalypse. Wearing jeans and leather, having a bat with nails and his guitar on him, combined with an immense amount of piercings he has, he looks so unmistakably punk. Yeah, he looks like a cool guy. Acts like one, too, offering you a grin, his name, a handshake to go with it and a small talk.

"A townie, huh?" Hobie chuckles with a touch of disdain when you tell him you're not a loner, that you're from a town. Something in his voice makes you wonder if there's more to it than a simple 'i'm cooler bc i don't need anyone to survive'.

And only much, much later you'll find out that he used to live in a town, too, but the leader (might be Osborn haha) went nuts, turned into a dictator, pressured people he was supposed to protect, and Hobie organised a riot and ended up killing him. He left after that and now he doesn't trust communes and their self-proclaimed leaders.

He helps you to get out of the building when it's safe and you almost leave to be on your way when it hits you it might be useful to pair up with an experienced survivor like him. And he hasn't had company for a while now, so he just shrugs and agrees.

It's easier to travel together. You navigate zombie-crouded places with ease, watching each other's back, you talk when it's safe (and hell does Hobie like himself a good talk after only being able to talk to himself for a while). You quickly find out that teasing each other is hella fun and it takes him only about two days to come up with a nickname for you - maybe something made from your name or maybe something stupid from all those jokes you share.

Once you reach another town and settle in a house that has decent fence, Hobie starts a fire and soon you hear him strumming something on his guitar. He's glad if you decide to sing along. And if you play guitar, too, he'd hand it to you, but just before you grab it he'd pull it away for a moment and squint his eyes at you. "Jus' don't break it, luv", he smirks before finally handing it to you. And if you sing - damn, he'd definitely start missing his being in a band days and promise you to write a duet for you two.

Sometimes you try to convince him to come with you to your town but he just shrugs and laughs it off. He doesn't yet tell why he's so stubborn about it, and you know better than to pry.

Your expedition goes calmly until the last village on your way where you encounter raiders. They shoot first and you don't really have a choise but put down two of them. You find a hiding spot before any of you gets shot, but the next day when you plan to leave and head back to your town they notice you. And, well, of course they want revenge.

You flee both from raiders and zombies attracted by the gunfire, navigating the narrow alley filled with junk, and where you slip with ease, Hobie suddenly falls trying to jump off something and gets an iron rod right through his thigh.

Putting all the trouble with removing it aside, that's how you and Hobie both end up back in your town. You were supposed to part ways, but it's not like you could just leave him after everything you've been through together. His wound is festering by the time you reach safety, you tried to give him meds, but it only did so much in holding the infection back. Thankfully now the doctors can look after him.

He gets better gradually and soon enough you let him move into your place. After all, you were the one to bring him to the town, so now you're kind of responsible. He's not particularly happy to be there, but trust me, he'd choose his words of distaste less carefully if it was anyone but you with him.

He needs time to recover in safety, but the town is suffocating, so you find a harmless enough decision and start inviting him outside to hunt. Nothing but short sorties not too far from the town walls, but he feels better. And honestly? It's a good time to bond. Winter comes and you spend your nights outside in abandoned hunting lodges, resting close to each other to preserve the heat.

It's back to back first, then you share blankets, and soon enough it turns into cuddling - either it's spooning or Hobie just pulls your head into his chest and wraps his long arms aroung you. You're supposed to take care of him and help him recover, but in those moments you feel taken care of. Small. Maybe even loved. Not something you feel often in this dying shit of a world.

And when the winter passes, Hobie suddenly realises that he doesn't really want to leave. I wonder why,,,,,,

A little extra: I feel like if you ever get bitten or scratched, Hobie would NOT hesitate to take your wounded limb away. He's not the type to wait till it turns into 'either i kill them or they turn into a monster' drama, he just wants to save as much of you as he can. And knowing how good he is with crafting things, he'd probably be the one to make you a prosthesis to replace it, too.

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

pt. 1 | pt.2

[grapejuicestyless]

Sick Of The Chase

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is what she considers a “killer.” Her relationships constantly falling apart in the same pattern, she can’t help but believe her failures are because of her. All she needed was one person to break that cycle. Based off Killer by Phoebe Bridgers.

Sometimes I think I’m a killer. I scared you in your house. I even scare myself sometimes when I’m talking, rambling on your couch. But there’s nothing I can do. This is who I am, this is who I’m destined to be. The woman with a twisted mind and an even darker dating history.

A bloody trail of broken hearts, inconsolable nights spent chasing after the next loved one who had enough and got the fuck out.

And there’s nothing I can do.

It all started the same. An innocent man and an overly believing woman crossing paths by some kind of fate. The gravity would pull us together and we’d spend the next few moments of our lives together.

We would vow to see each other again, and we would. And the next months would be spent between the sheets with lips pressing to our cheeks and lips sore from our sorry smiles.

And before the clock would strike midnight, around the year long mark achievement that marked our love, it would become too much every time. Our abilities to work things out not yet prepared for the intense fights we would have.

The drifting was irreparable as all that was left to do was sit there idly waiting for the final blow that would break the camels back.

I would watch them leave just as it began. Some fate pulling us apart as it was always meant to be. And the proclaimed love of my life would walk out just as quickly as he would enter.

How stupid I was to have fallen into the trap of my own feelings yet again. How cruel of a trick I had played on myself for believing this could be different. That he would stay.

Harry entered my life just past the new year, confetti stuck in his hair and the rose spread across my cheeks from the warmth the alcohol transferred into my blood. His curls were lively, even when matted in sweat from dancing all night.

He stayed to pick up the aftermath, as did I. The quiet enveloped us, soft breathing and footsteps uneven and heavy. How funny it was how quickly history is ready to repeat itself as soon as you forget why you were so sad.

Ever the beautiful fool, I became hooked. The sickness that came from the chase buried underneath the desperation for blood. The undying want for his arms to hold me in the coldest nights and for his laughter to ring in my ears in the most humid rain storms.

We just fit. We shared the same interests, but we’re different enough to be able to share the enjoyment of teaching each other new hobbies and skills. Everything in my life became Harry coded.

From the apron hung on the door just for him when we’d bake to the strawberry shaped bowl on my counter top that reminded me of his love for summer. I had truly drowned in my infatuation for him.

But my love and my effort was never enough, in the end. And right around that December mark, just before the year anniversary, I watched as the fights that ceased to exist became a frequent part of our routine. I watched as his happiness turned into anger and mine into a deep rooted depression I couldn’t run from.

I couldn’t sleep next to him, some nights. Even as harmless as he was. The feeling of his arms around me only reminded me of our bitter words and unresolved arguments. The couch became my sanctuary. A place where sobbing seemed easier to do, and breathing was slightly clearer.

We progressed, sick but too ashamed to admit it for weeks. Apologies lingering only to be shattered within the next few hours as the next storm rolled in.

Yet, the killer that I was, the sad, mellow woman I became in every relationship still wasn’t enough to tame the fire that was him.

I sat there, sick and tired. My mind was barely there. A machine might as well have been keeping me alive, the way I had been feeling.

The stress came through my fingers. Knuckles white from pulling out the ends in a desire to make it stop. The fragile ending of a beautiful romance too much to think about.

But Harry, even in our most difficult time, found a way to surprise me. He kissed my rotting head, watching as my feet curled under my bottom and I tried to sink into the cushions, he refused to pull the plug. He let the wire twist, watched the rope burn slowly until only a strand held it together.

He refused to walk out and leave what we had built behind. That harsh question of, what was left to do for us, became answered in that resilience he showed.

In our darkest hour, in the softest whisper he promised me, “I know there’s something waiting for us.”

The road seemed narrow, walls closing in around us but he would hold them apart with all his strength until we figured it out. The cycle breaking bit by bit. With his promise to not abandon what we had, I grew the strength to give the same back to him.

There is something waiting for us.

[iamblue15]

TNBC x Coraline Crossover: The Most Important Ingredient

\\ Coraline and Wybie find themselves in Halloweentown after coming across the strangest trees with different-shaped doors.

\\ After a terrifying yet innocent introduction with the Pumpkin King himself and the residents, they decide to stick around as it is Halloween day.

\\ The witch sisters then gave the children an offer of "really looking the part tonight" with a special potion that can transform them into real monsters for Halloween.

\\ They, of course, were skeptical but with Jack and Sally placing their trust in them and being told the process would be harmless, they gave in and accepted the offer with the first batch being prepared for Coraline.

The two witches began stirring the funky, glowing green broth like clockwork as they tossed in the ingredients, each more peculiar or dead than the last.

A look of repulsion developed on Coraline and Wybie's faces from getting a whiff of the aroma that was becoming more rancid by the second and starting to believe they may have made a mistake.

"Please tell me we're not going to have to DRINK this because I have no faith I'm going to keep this down," Coraline said with a reluctant tone.

"As if the source of the smell wasn't questionable enough, no offense." Wybie agreed while pinching his nostrils together.

"Oh, none taken." Jack replied. "And I can assure you we are aware of your foreign human palettes but after your transformation is complete, you'll be downing spoonfuls of snake and spider stew in no time!" he guarantees with glee.

"Oh goody, I can't wait," Coraline says with a wary voice and an uneasy smile.

"I can barely contain myself," Wybie shares the same expression and tone.

"It will be fine, you two", Sally drops in. "If we knew the process was dangerous, we wouldn't even consider it, you can trust us".

"If you say so," Wybie says, though sounding more convinced, still can't help feeling a little anxious.

"Aaaaaaaaannnd that should do it, hehe!" The taller witch exclaims.

"Now all we need is the final ingredient before we commence with the spell." the smaller witch discloses.

"And for that, we require YOUR help, little missy!" the tall witch points at Coraline.

"Oh, uh okay?" Looking back at Wybie, Jack, and Sally, she comes forth with a puzzled look.

"Up this way, that's it." The smaller witch guides her up the ladder leaning on the large cauldron.

" So, what kinda ingredient is it?" Coraline questions the witches.

" Oh, only the most important kind!" Says the taller witch. "This brew would be a no-go without it!"

"And that is?"

"It is.....

"YOU!"

"Huh? Ah, AHHH-!" Coraline is then shoved from behind and goes plunging into the Cauldron! The witches then quickly place the lid.

"Jonesy! Hey! What are you doing?!" after seeing his friend being pushed into the pot, he begins to charge toward the witches while demanding answers.

"Ah! Let me go!" He is then quickly stopped by Sally who pulls him away.

"Please calm down! This is part of the process!" She tries to reassure him.

"What are you-?" "It's alright." Jack also comes in to calm the distressed boy.

"It's as Sally said, this won't harm her."

"But, what's gonna happen to her?" Wybie asks with concern.

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see," Sally replies.

---

Inside the cauldron, Coraline desperately tries to hold her breath while swimming in the warm green void.

"Gasp!" She eventually fails and begins to panic before realizing she can breathe.

"Wh-what is this? Hey! Let me out! This is not funny!" She cries out for help but it seems her voice can't reach them.

---

Outside of the cauldron, the witches begin waving their wands in the air, beginning their chant.

This little thing, so bright and cute,

Like a creature from the swamp, a toxic newt.

As they chant a black cloud forms above them with lightning growing more and more powerful.

But with a little of this, a little that,

And a few sprinkles of nails of cat,

This little thing, now fearsome and itching for screams,

She'll fit in right here in this town of HALLOWEEN!

*BOOM!*

With their chant finished, a huge bolt of lightning strikes at the cauldron, flashing with intensity.

---

Inside the cauldron, a bright light briefly illuminates the whole void with Coraline shielding her eyes.

When the light subsides, she opens her eyes to find that the green void has turned into pitch-black darkness and her feet have found solid ground.

"Ooookay, this is definitely NOT how I pictured a good Hallo-"

*Squeak!*

"Ah!?"

Before she could finish her sentence, a loud squeak startled the girl, and turned to find a strange bat-like creature with green eyes flying in front of her.

"Uh, hi?" She cautiously greets it.

Seeing her fearful girl's expression causes the bat to cackle. It then flies closer to her and starts to hide in her blind spots, teasing and annoying the girl.

"Knock it off, you rat with wings!" She irately says.

The creature eventually ceases its teasing and then calls out into the darkness, much to the girl's confusion.

She then hears all kinds of growling, moaning, and laughing coming from all directions and realizes she's surrounded by a variety of colorful, glowing ghosts, monsters and creatures.

She instinctively makes a run for it with the gang of terrors running, crawling, or flying after her.

She evades each of the monsters' attempts to catch her until eventually runs out of breath.

She gets down to her knees, completely exhausted with the pounding of her heart blocking the instant silence.

With her heart rate slowing down, she realizes all the monsters have gathered all around her but none of them moves a muscle.

"(Exhale) Look, this has been fun but I'm DONE playing. All I want to do is spend Halloween with my friend and not in some abyss in a cooking pot! Got it?"

The monsters then fly into the air and begin merging with each other in a giant swirling storm.

What comes next is the storm taking the form of a colossal dragon-like beast, staring daggers at the tiny girl.

Before she could respond, the beast quick as lightning, flew in and swallows the her.

After that, the monster starts to behave erratically and starts flying all across the abyss, seemingly getting smaller and smaller and becoming more human-shaped.

It then launches itself skyward into the black and keeps flying until it finally finds the giant lid and then...

*Boom!*

The lid comes flying as the girl shoots out from the cauldron, steaming and covered in ooze.

"Coraline!" Wybie says as he runs toward her.

"Oh my!" Jack exclaims.

"Are you alright, dear?" Sally asks.

Coraline groans as she waits for her vision to stop spinning.

"That... was... INSANE!"

As she raises her head to face the others, they witness her new stitched face which is a lot like Sally's.

She almost loses her balance as she gets back on her feet and shakes off the remaining ooze on her.

"You two scared the daylights out of me with that stunt!" She angrily points at the two witches.

"Hey, everyone needs a good scare now and then!" The taller witch replied.

"Besides, you look so fabulously terrifying!" Said the small witch.

"Huh"?

She then notices that the hand she was pointing with has turned a pale color and stitches to keep it all together. Her panic begins to build up again.

"What's going with my arms?!" She frantically questions.

As she looks down she notices her attire has been changed as well.

Jack and Sally are still too astounded to give their response to the new Coraline.

"Wow, Jonsey. You look REALLY different." Wybie finally says.

"Thanks for stating the obvious, Why were you born! Can someone hand over a mirror please?"

Sally while still speechless hands her a large hand mirror and Coraline's reaction is priceless.

"WHAT?!"

In her reflection, her hair has been turned into blue yarn, with a few different colored strings. Her eyes also have changed with her right sclera and pupil changed to an orange spiral and her left a blue sclera and yellow pupil. Her attire now resembles that of a ragdolls' with a tattered, stitched-up dark purple coat and black buckled boots.

"Oh my god! I'm a freak!" Coraline says while freaked out.

"And it's perfect!" Jack finally says his piece as he is an awe with her new look.

"Come look, everyone!" He calls out to most of the residents in the town square.

"Hey, we're matching!" The Mayor points at one of his eyes.

"Nice wrappings, girl!" The little mummy also gives a compliment.

"Deathly pale skin looks good on you, take it from me!" Says one of the vampire brothers.

" Those rainbow strings are pure insanity! Hahaha!" Says the clown as he honks his horn.

She suddenly realized the crowd was getting to close for comfort.

"Th-thank you so much, but can a girl get some breathing ro-, wha!?

She accidentally steps on a rat which causes her to lose her balance, Wybie rushes in to catch but unfortunately...

*Snap!*

As he grabs her hand, the seams in her wrist loosen and her hand detaches, continuing her fall.

"Ow!"

As Coraline lands, Wybie realizes he still has her detached hand in HIS hand and it's fingers start to wiggle.

"Guh"! He nearly drops it as he flings it in shock.

As Coraline recovers, she notices the exposed stuffing in her wrist and her wriggling hand in Wybie's hands and yelps out in shock.

"Ok, this is just getting too freaky for words!" Coraline exclaims.

"*Giggle* that was bound to happen." Sally giggles as she hands her hand to Coraline. "It's actually a neat trick if you want to make a quick getaway."

"Alright! Let's brew up another batch for the young lad." The taller witch exclaims.

"Wait just a moment, dear." The smaller witch directs.

So, what the heck happened in there? He questions Coraline with a perplexing look.

" Eh, I wouldn't wanna ruin the surprise. It's Halloween after all."

"Thanks a lot, Jonesy."

END

[thewipartist]

Do you have any hcs about the Time Ripper x your oc? (Yeah, this is the same anon previously)

JDJSJ AH OH UM... KINDA A FEW? The oc is my sona funny enough. I know I DID want to make a version of her that fits more into the universe.

HOWEVER I'll share some the top off my head/ rambles if the regular version DID exist. They are Genderfluid, so they do go by any pronouns!

- I'd imagined a reason to why he hasn't killed them is due to the fact they can shapeshift. Since Wippy is literally a digital shapeshifter of her own doing. I can see the Time Ripper mistaken him as a distortion at first. Seeing another person suffer of same fate of distorting can feel... comforting. Teamwork and such!

- Following that up, she isn't exactly suppose to exist. While she was human, she did sacrifice herself, but screwed the ritual up. Making her body not exactly supposed to exist, but does. She's a digital entity that had her time ended long time ago, yet still exists in time His time-rip ability wouldn't work on her, or at the very least wouldn't function properly. So he couldn't get rid of her normally.

- Wippy herself can be more timid and quiet when you first meet her. So Time Ripper probably found her mostly harmless. Useful but overall harmless to him. Being able to shapeshifter can help a lot when planning and spying on potential victims. Though she isn't naive nor stupid and he can see that.

- They made a deal after a chase, and him catching Wippy. That he would help him and keep their deal a secret. He helps him, and he won't kill them. Wippy, wanting to find a purpose, accepted the deal.

- The first time they both gotten more soft and caring towards each other was finding out aboit their younger brothers. Both had a younger brother that they cared deeply for. Wippy lost her brother due to family issues, and the trauma her mother made her go through. Losing the connection to the brother she practically raised like her own kid. She did find out about Time Ripper's younger brother and it hit her hard. The person who you were protecting... one of the only family you still loved gone because of you. She felt... horrible and in her own way, protective.

- Due to his beliefs, Wippy does feel horrible for unable to be productive like normal people. They feel extremely horrible for "wasting" time they have. Mostly due to her own issues like being bed ridden or burn out. Unable to actually do basic things like brushing her teeth, eating, chores, etc. Despite this, she does try her best to make him happy and do what he asks. Never asking for anything in return.

- Time Ripper definitely got frustrated seeing her wasting time, at first. Until he realizes that Wippy isn't wasting time, she is suffering and dealing with depression. It... scares him, seeing her bad like this. He got... attached, and it does make him feel sick that someone so... kind is in so much pain. Someone who shared a similar pain. So he does try to help her at least feel better about her thoughts. She never asked for much, so it's the least he could do.

- Wippy does not care about him being multiple people. Often times, the brains do speak out their own thoughts about her. Making her flustered or shy again. She has not and never will be use to compliments. They ARE a part of him, and sees him no different. There are times where he held one of Time Ripper's brains like a stuff toy.

- Wippy has a caffeine addict and needs it to function in her life. Time Ripper will *somehow* bring her coffee grounds for her. She isn't picky, so the coffee was his favorite before the distortion. A little small gesture from him for her. Wippy does get reminded of him as well with the bag.

- Wippy practically clung onto him emotionally. The second he showed affection, she nearly melted and cried. She is so use to working hard and not getting praised, having the mindset that she can't do her best constantly, then she is a failure. The one time Time Ripper said he was proud as the day she cried her eyes out, hard. Having someone proud of her hits her hard, as she was never proud of herself.

- Time Ripper confessed first, but Wippy showed signs of falling in love. Time Ripper was one of the few people who could touch her without her freezing up badly. He caught on with how clingy she got, especially when tired or drunk. They would always clung onto his arm for comfort. He would flirt and tense with her, seeing how much she would stim or snort because he give her a nice comment.

- Wippy often says "I love you, all of you" soley because the multiple brains in him. Those are different consciousness, actually apart of him. And she loves them all, no matter what. It feels nice to know that she had many people that do love her. She will always have the softest spot for the Time Ripper.

- She does kiss him, but does perfect cuddling and nuzzling. I like to think Time Ripper can heat up the "mouth" area of his face and press it against her body to mimic a kiss. It's like a heating pad against her skin, and is careful not burn her. Burning her skin slightly is him giving a hickey. Wippy will either pecker kisses or give gentle kisses. Yes, this does include the jars the brains are in if requested.

That's all I can think of right now since I am a little tired. :)

[heartkyeom]

fine line

figure skater!joshua hong x f!reader

synopsis: as a joshua fangirl, getting the chance to interview him as a teenager was an absolute dream. 10 years later with a flourishing career as a writer and a strained relationship with him, he wants to do a 10 year reunion interview about his path to the upcoming Olympics. there’s only one problem: you’re staying at his house and trying not to address your old feelings for him.

word count: 19.9k

tag list: @junhui-recs @bfwonu @huiranghaes

warnings: figure skater!joshua, writer/fangirl!reader, best friend!jeonghan, dad!seungcheol, smut, fluff, angst, some occasional skating jargon, this is a lot about the Olympics

a/n: y’all. this fic has been reworked over and over and over since spring 2022, it’s the longest fic I’ve ever done. it’s given me so much trouble and seen me through so many changes in my life. doing my final undergrad dance show, writing my undergrad capstone, finishing undergrad, and finding my first apartment. it is my baby and has grown as much as I have since march. thank you to the sports au discord for being so lovely <3 I hope you enjoy it as always and I hope you can feel how much heart I put into this! this is for @gyukult’s sports au collab + this is loosely based on the plot of the book “funny you should ask” by elissa sussman which I can’t recommend enough! title also inspired by the harry styles song ok bye lmao <3

Work isn’t particularly difficult, in your opinion. You’re used to hearing the people around you complain about how much their workload consumes them to a point of no return, but as you made your way into your first adult job as a writer, you tried to stop that from happening.

It’s not exactly easy when you have to navigate the entertainment industry while writing, but the idea of trying to craft new narratives about celebrities that the public is convinced that they know inside and out still excites you.

Even if you’re not exactly fond of whoever you’re writing about, the challenge still intrigues you. Thus, the conversations surrounding ideas for new profiles are always equal parts captivating and nerve-wracking.

“How do you feel about Joshua Hong?” Your manager asks. You look up to see her balancing her weight on the side of your desk, a neutral expression paints her face.

She knows this is a loaded question, all things considered.

“You know how I feel about him,” You blink at her before facing your computer again.

“I do, but I need an updated response considering the anniversary,” She persists. You sigh, swiveling around to face her again before responding.

“He’s great. I like him,” Your voice trails off, you try to nod to convince her, but it’s not working.

Your life has been so intertwined with Joshua Hong’s career as a professional figure skater that it’s hard to delineate life before and after him. He wasn't there, then one day he seemed to consume your life completely.

Before your start as a journalist, you ran a very well-known, albeit secretive, blog about Joshua Hong as a teenager. It was relatively harmless and safe for work, spare the occasional thirst posts sprinkled in. It mostly contained updates about the then emerging skater’s career, offering illegal torrent links for broadcasts of his performances that weren’t available worldwide and communicating with other fans about your love for him. Yet, some random post about him qualifying for the Olympics went insanely viral when you were 17, garnering over 1 million shares in under a week.

It was substantial enough to get his management's attention, and you had the opportunity to interview him not only for your blog but for a major publication for their Winter Olympics coverage series.

With two opportunities to write about him, you were able to fulfill the fan service pleas from your fellow fans for the blog and write a serious piece that made the general public interested in him from the perspective of a fan that knew the general timeline of his career.

The quick success felt like a fluke, but it led you to an undergraduate degree and a dream job as an entertainment writer at one of your favorite companies almost immediately after graduation.

He technically made your career, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

You’ve been trying to forget about the anniversary, but everyone in your life seems determined to bring it up whenever they see you.

“Well, we want you to do a 10-year reunion interview piece with him. That’s only if you want to,” Her voice was sympathetic, but you’re mainly focused on the number. It really had been 10 years, hadn’t it?

You were both incredibly established in your respective careers, him as a 5-time gold medalist with appearances at 3 Olympic Games, and you with a prolific image as a relatable yet incisive celebrity interviewer. It completely makes sense for you two to meet again, considering how much the first interview changed the trajectory of your lives.

It would feed into the nostalgia of Joshua fans that grew up alongside you as readers of your blog and new fans that clamored for any new Joshua content.

Yet, you weren’t exactly convinced.

“I mean, his team could’ve had anyone else write a big profile on him. We’re not the only website in the world with an entertainment section,” You fight the urge to bite your nails and instead choose to wring your hands together.

“He asked us to do it,” She admits.

You try not to look too shocked, but that definitely changes things. You were not close with Joshua whatsoever. Sure, he’d occasionally like your social media posts and wish you a happy birthday every year, but that was the extent of your relationship.

Your teenage self thinks it might be him looking for closure, wondering what might have happened if you stayed in touch.

Yet, you can’t let yourself dive back into the fantasy of him again.

You search for a response, but you can’t land on anything substantial. “What would I have to do?” You ask, you barely notice the unconscious habit of biting the inside of your cheek.

“Well, in addition to the profile, you can attend his practices and any private schedules he invites you to. It’s mostly up to the discretion of him and his team,” She offers and you nod. You’re good with that, you can watch him practice and go to a random professional event he’s booked for.

“He did offer something else, if you’re up for it,” She gives you a pointed look which makes you a bit hesitant.

“What is it?”

“He asked if you were open to staying at his house,” She smiled through her answer, but you’re sure your face was completely pale.

You didn’t know if you were more shocked or nervous at the idea of it. It was ambitious, considering that you haven’t spent more than a few hours in the same room with him at a time, much less stay with him.

You think you might die if you go through with it.

“He’s not serious,” You find yourself laughing in disbelief. You can’t even fathom the idea of being further sucked into Joshua’s life after so long.

“He really is. You don’t have to give me an answer right now, but within the next day or so,” She leaves your desk without giving you a chance to respond, but you revel in the opportunity to think about everything.

It’s a bit too much to wrap your head around, so much so that you don’t remember much else of the work day.

For the first time in a long time, Joshua Hong was all you could think about.

—

The more you think about the interview, the more it gives you anxiety.

All of the possible outcomes float around in your head during the commute home that you can barely enjoy the music blaring in your headphones.

Once you arrive home, you figure that you need a second opinion on the matter, so you decide to call your far more opinionated best friend for his input.

The phone only rings for a few seconds before he picks up.

“What happened?”

“Joshua wants to do this 10-year anniversary interview where I follow him around,” You sigh.

“No fucking way,” He burst into laughter, his giggles echoing loudly through the phone.

“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny,” You whine. He was probably the last person you needed to call, seeing as he almost never had a sympathetic response to your pain.

“It’s hilarious, and this is karma for trying to ignore his existence for the past 5 years,” He replies with a teasing lilt.

You hate that he’s right.

You were very proud of Joshua’s successes, in a “retired fan celebrating from a distance” sort of way. Yet, you tried to distance yourself so much from the blog that he inadvertently got caught in the crossfire. You cared about him so deeply for so long that you lost yourself in that, so you tried to cope with the state of your uneven relationship with him in your own little fucked up way.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “I just didn’t think he’d be the one to do it, you know? I thought I’d get a polite email from his assistant, not my manager telling me he wanted to do a profile.”

“That means it’s personal to him, then. That’s actually kinda charming of him,” You feel your phone vibrate, so you check the notification.

Joshua messaged you on Instagram, and from a quick glance at your lockscreen, it’s long.

Your heart drops to your stomach.

“Wait, he just messaged me,” You quickly put Jeonghan on speaker and opened the app without a second thought. You read his message out loud:

joshuahong: Hi! Not sure if you’ve heard my request yet about the anniversary profile, but I would really love it if we could make it happen. I know it’s been a really long time, but I think it’d be fun to do it again. You’ve always supported me from the beginning of my career, so it would mean a lot to me. I miss talking to you, so we would definitely be catching up in more ways than one. We’ll only do it if you’re up for it though, please don’t ghost me this time lol

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan fills the silence immediately. You were pretty much lost for words, but you managed to speak. “Holy shit is right,” You mumble to yourself.

You suddenly feel guilty for trying to bury him out of your life, especially when he clearly said he misses you.

Were you trying to set your boundaries by pushing him away or were you just being an asshole?

“I feel really stupid,” You hate that you want to cry. You can’t reckon with the fact that Joshua has wanted to reconcile for so long that he had to do this to get your attention.

At least, that’s what the selfish part of you thinks. You know the interview is so much bigger than yourself, but then again, it is a symbol of you and the years of effort you put into your blog.

“You’re not stupid, but you need to worry about what you’re gonna say. Are you gonna say yes?” He asks.

Admittedly, you do feel the pull to say yes.

“I think I might. Is that a bad idea?” Internally, you know the answer, but your insecurities need some validation.

He clears his throat before responding. “I think you’ll regret it if you say no. I think it’ll hurt you more to not have closure with him.”

You don’t think you necessarily want anything out of this besides becoming friendly with him.

You’d like to think that’s what would’ve happened if you didn’t completely ice him out.

“That’s true. It’s gonna be so hard to see him again,” A whine pulls your lips into a pout and you already know Jeonghan will protest.

“Stop talking yourself out of it. Who knows, you might end up enjoying everything,” he suggests openly.

“That’s possible. His house is supposed to be insanely big,” You shake your head at the idea of how a 27-year-old millionaire pro figure skater would be living, definitely far better than your current apartment.

“You can only know for sure if you say yes.”

“I know,” You figure you need a vacation anyways, even if it means facing some unresolved emotional baggage.

“So, you know your answer then. I need to get back to work, but don’t blow him off. Respond to him tonight or I’m not giving you the deluxe massage package gift certificate like I promised,” Jeonghan was not above threatening you into action, and this one had the right level of stakes.

“Fine, okay,” You huff out, already opening the Instagram app again to motivate you into typing a proper response.

You exchange quick goodbyes and you let yourself look, albeit for far too long, at the message again to gain some inspiration.

Before you know it, you’re sending him a formal reply.

you: Hi! You’re right about ghosting, no excuses for that so I’m sorry lol. I’ve thought about it and I’d be happy to do it, it’s been too long since we’ve talked. Let me know the timeline you’re thinking of and I’ll get my schedule figured out

You figure that’s just enough to ease your nerves. It’s not exactly as earnest as his original message, but it’ll work for now.

You even send a screenshot of the message to Jeonghan as proof for the sake of accountability and the state of your deluxe massage package gift certificate. You place your phone on your nightstand to avoid fixating on another response, letting yourself go fix dinner and get ready for bed without thinking.

It’s only when you’re about to settle into bed that you remember your phone. You reach for it and Joshua, who is somehow extremely prompt with his messages, sends you another reply 10 minutes after your message.

joshuahong: Great! We’ll start sorting out more details then. I’m really glad you said yes

He’s already trying to pull at your heartstrings and it’s working. Despite everything, Joshua has always been kind. He doesn’t just seem nice, like what most celebrities are assumed to be around other people, he’s always made sure you know he cares about you even if you hadn’t known what to do about it.

You type out another quick response before going to bed.

you: Of course, it’s gonna be a lot of fun

You hope that’s true, you hope that you’re not already in over your head with the situation. He still seems to have faith in you, so why not trust that instinct?

—

During pre-trip preparations, you found yourself talking to Joshua far more often than before.

The conversations didn’t go too deep of course, you couldn’t get everything out of him before you even had a chance to conduct the interview, but the harmless banter seemed to slowly bridge that treacherous gap left between you two.

You even thought it would make your first meeting less awkward, but that wasn’t even remotely possible. It had only taken a few days for the entirety of the trip to be confirmed by your workplace and his team, and the final itinerary made your head spin.

You would follow Joshua around for a week, primarily to his private daily practices in an effort to show his infamous dedication to Olympics training.

All while you stayed in his guest room.

You couldn’t get out of that obligation, no matter how much you tried to convince him that you would be perfectly fine staying in a luxury hotel room paid for by your employer. He was confident that you could get a better view into his life while staying at his house which you reluctantly agreed with.

His idea definitely didn’t cross any professional boundaries at all, none whatsoever! This is what he’d do as a friend if you were coming to visit anyways, right?

You were still slightly afraid to hear his voice, you weren’t exactly sure why, but you were hoping it would keep the image of him unchanged in your mind until you saw him in person again.

You knew you were heavily biased going into this situation, so why not protect your heart for a little bit longer?

joshuahong: Are you nervous about tomorrow?

you: Not really

joshuahong: Y/N, please don’t lie.

you: I’m not!

joshuahong: I’m kinda nervous to see you, though

you: Really? Why?

joshuahong: I think it’s been 6 years since I’ve seen you in person. That’s scary to think about

you: The passing of time is scary

joshuahong: Definitely. Promise to not be awkward?

you: I’ll try my best!

joshuahong: That’s not a promise!

you: Fine, I promise but you have to promise too!

joshuahong: I promise :) now get some sleep, I don’t want to hear you complain when you have plenty of time to get 8 hours of sleep

you: You’re so mean!! but you too, get lots of rest so you can give me a good show tomorrow

He doesn’t reply to that last message, only using a heart emoji reaction instead.

The weight of the trip suddenly sits on your heart, and the main objective of writing an exceptional interview is somehow the least of your worries now.

—

The flight to Korea is unceremoniously long, you have far too much time and anxiety to let yourself fall asleep. You go through all the Netflix episodes you downloaded for the flight, finish the book that’s been sitting on your shelf for ages, and write down some preliminary notes about what you’d like to cover in the interview.

You decide to keep your ideas vague so that you’re not overexerting your brain during the flight.

First, a general discussion of the Olympics. That’s the main appeal of the article, seeing what his main preparations are like and hopefully getting some better insight about his feelings surrounding everything.

The second is his recovery from his last Olympics injury. He landed the most ambitious jump of his free skate program completely wrong, breaking his ankle in the process. It was during the last event of his Olympics run for that year, and he still placed third in the men’s individual skate program overall, but it’s been a sore subject for him in most interviews he’s done since the incident.

The footage is as agonizing as you can imagine, but the fact that he finished the routine at all is stunning. You figure that you can get some in-depth reaction about that moment and the subsequent recovery, more than the extremely media-trained answer he’s given about it before.

Lastly, the prospect of retirement. He’s said almost nothing about his plans after the upcoming Olympic games, but Olympics experts are convinced that the news is looming over his upcoming appearance.

You knew better than to ask him outright about it because he definitely wouldn’t give you a straight answer. From watching his recent interviews, you realized that Joshua has a tendency to go into a subtle apathetic mood when the interviewer hits something he’s not comfortable with. You hope that you can breach the subject without things going completely south. This interview was supposed to hit some darker aspects of the state of Joshua’s career, but you never wanted to make him uncomfortable.

Other than those topics, anything else he wanted to divulge to you would be a bonus. You wanted him to have a reasonable amount of control over what would go into the interview, so you’re not opposed to adjusting your interview material if needed.

The thought of his reactions to your questions swarms your brain in a frenzy, but you know you’re getting ahead of yourself.

The flight lands without any problems and you’re still trying to figure your thoughts out by the time you’re picking up your suitcase from baggage claim.

You’re soon greeted by Joshua’s driver, a tall man who holds a sign with your name printed on it, nodding in affirmation when you confirm your identity with him. He’s distantly kind to you, but it’s enough to put you at ease for the moment. You’re escorted to a tinted black SUV with a gentle hand opening the back car door for you. Your suitcase is carefully stowed into the back of the truck while you click your seatbelt into place across your lap.

You don’t realize how tired you are until the car starts moving. You didn’t bother to orient yourself with the time once you got off the flight, but you figure it’s somewhere between late morning and early afternoon by the way the clouds create a gray atmosphere in the sky.

Nonetheless, looking out the window is enough to pull you into sleep, and you indulge yourself in a short nap, barely considering where you may be headed.

—

It turns out that Joshua wanted to meet you at his home rink first which explains why you were waking up to the sight of a massive stadium.

You were slightly annoyed that you weren’t at a stable location yet, your body started to feel vaguely sick at the constant movement of the car.

You’re grateful that the car stops for a moment, you’re hoping Joshua takes a bit longer than expected to come out of the rink so that your body can stop feeling off center.

Unfortunately, he’s quite prompt, you notice him walking out only a few minutes later. He’s accompanied by two other staff members, seemingly debriefing him on your arrival as you see one of them point to the car.

You suddenly feel acutely aware of how disheveled you look in your inconspicuous airport outfit, barely awake enough to make proper conversation with him.

He arrives at the other back car door quickly, opening it with a big smile.

“Y/N! Hi, I’m so happy to finally see you again,” He’s excited, settling into the backseat across from you, slightly more perky than you expected.

“Hi,” You wave back politely, pushing your voice up an octave to match his energy that is nearly impossible to replicate in your current mood.

“I’m sure you must be exhausted, it was a long flight wasn’t it?” His brows furrow slightly, and his concern is evident on his face.

“Yeah, I’m still pretty tired,” You offer him a halfhearted smile.

“Well, we can recover once we’re at my place. We’ll have time to catch up on everything,” He reassures you with a nod.

He notices you’re still out of it, so you don’t talk for the rest of the ride to his house.

Through heavy eyelids, you steal a few looks at him and he really is as pretty as you remember. His boyish features filled out his face much better now, although he was always handsome.

You’re not sure how long his practice day was, but it surely didn’t show in his features. He caught you looking at him only once, you tried to be discreet while he was looking at his phone, but he still saw you.

It seemed like he had a sixth sense to know when someone was looking at him which, if anything, made it a bit more embarrassing to get caught.

He let you off easy though, smiling at you before turning his attention back to his phone.

It was a tiny gesture, but it reminds you just how much he seems to notice you.

—

You wouldn’t say you’re best friends or anything, but talking to Joshua for an extended period of time has made you miss being around him in person. His energy has always been the same after so long.

“So you just casually stumbled into an interview with Dwayne the Rock Johnson?” He’s somehow fully astonished at your celebrity interview stories, you notice the sparkle in his eyes and his smile is radiant, but you think that’s just the alcohol creeping up on him.

You both agreed to a drink after coming back to the house, you chose wine while he opted for beer. This has made the mood considerably less awkward and you’re grateful that you both pushed past the mandatory small talk.

“Yeah, the interviewer before me canceled so I got more time with him than I intended. Then the whole viral interview video happened,” You wave your hand before taking another sip of your glass.

“You say that as if it’s normal,” He pushes his hair back, slightly exposing his forehead. That was surprising coming from him, considering that he is far more famous than you would ever be. Yet, you assume that it’s because he’s famous in a more traditional sense, so content creation was never a part of his job to begin with.

“Well, it is if you’re good at it, which I am,” You brag, receiving a hearty laugh from him.

“Look at you, big shot,” He playfully swats your arm. “You really made it, huh?” He’s fond, his glance is soft and yearning for more. It’s far too sentimental for where you wanted this to go tonight, but you play along for a moment.

“I did,” Your cheeks are slightly too warm as you avoid his eye contact with a small smile, but you still have control over yourself. You decide to take advantage of it.

“I want to get some stuff recorded for the interview if that’s okay?” You don’t know why you ask for permission to start interviewing, seeing as it’s the entire reason you’re here in the first place.

“That’s fine,” He straightens up a bit, he doesn’t seem too affected by the alcohol either which will make this a bit easier.

“We’ll keep it pretty light today, considering this is just the first day.”

“I’m good with that,” He chuckles lightly. You know he’s watching you struggle to figure out the best way to interview him. It’s too much effort to find your laptop which is somewhere tucked away in a carry-on bag, so you settle for your phone.

“Ok, so,” you fumble with your phone’s record button on the Voice Memos app for a moment, “tell me your general feelings about the Olympics coming up.”

“I’m excited, I missed being in full competition prep mode. It’s an indescribable feeling, but everything is coming together nicely which is all I can ask for on the 4th time around,” He had a vague joy in his eyes, but you didn’t want to scrutinize the answer just yet, it was only the first question.

“What does full competition prep mode look like for you?”

“My practice days are much longer than usual, so I’m in the rink most days from sunrise to sunset, if I can help it,” He smiles sheepishly. That charm seems like it’s going to seep through every response he gives you, so he can possibly get away with some things.

“What do you like to do to destress after such long practice days?”

His eyes light up at the idea and he readjusts his position on the couch. “I like taking a cold shower and catching up on reality TV, I honestly like anything trashy.”

You didn’t peg Joshua to be a reality TV person, but it’s the exact kind of pop culture talk that his fans will eat up.

“Okay, then which one do you prefer, The Bachelor or Love Island?” You ask curiously.

“Love Island, easily,” He replies immediately. He smirks and you nod in affirmation. You knew he had good taste, you figure you’d have to ask him about some other TV preferences later.

“Good, that was the right answer,” You shoot back. You decide to drink the rest of your wine instead of nursing it any longer.

“Asking the tough questions, clearly,” He’s way too smug about it and it makes you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, I told you we’re keeping it light! Unless you want to be asked about the future of your career while we drink,” Now it’s your turn to touch his arm, your hand intentionally doesn’t linger for too long though.

“I don’t, you’re right,” You know he’s not lying by the way he lets out a deep breath. There’s an unspoken tension at the thought of you bringing everything up.

“Okay, one more dumb non-skating question.”

“They’re not dumb,” He immediately catches your words and you blink at him, silently watching his face. He stares back, but his expression is slightly tender. Again, his face is almost too sweet for you to process. It threw you off this time though, so you have to look at the floor. You don’t even remember the question you meant to ask him, so you opt for a way out.

“Stop it.”

“What?” He genuinely looks confused, as if he’s not unconsciously doing the standard heartthrob boyfriend-esque banter.

“That was too nice,” You pick up your phone to stop the recording, still not facing him. Your body language is slightly more closed off.

“You act like you’ve never been complimented before,” He retorts.

You couldn’t say that it was different because he said it, you couldn’t give a shit if some random A-lister made you feel better about your work, but it was him.

“I’m not used to your compliments,” You indirectly emphasize him.

“Well, we’ll have to change that then,” He smirks.

That stirs something up in your chest, but you can’t quite name it. You decide it’s best to ignore it.

“Great. So are you gonna make me dinner or are we ordering somewhere?”

“I’m definitely not cooking,” He lets out a clipped laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. To be fair, he exerted more physical effort in a day than you’d do in an entire calendar year, so you weren’t exactly offended.

The night spun on with cheap pizza and varying levels of conversations. He even convinced you to watch Love Island, albeit one episode, until he decided he was too tired to continue.

He gives you a short tour of the guest room before retreating to his own room, and you finally get a moment to sit with your thoughts.

Joshua is friendlier than you expected and that was going to cause problems whether you liked it or not.

—

Although it was your first full day in town, the jetlag caught up with you almost immediately. Joshua mentioned last night that he would be at meetings throughout the afternoon, so you were grateful that you didn’t have to tag along.

Once you were thoroughly awake, you decided to investigate the house. As you suspected, it was far too big for him, especially considering he wasn’t home enough to enjoy it anyways.

The style of the house is typical celebrity fare, far too angular and minimalist for your taste. The shades of white, gray, and black that decorated his furniture and appliances were anything but inviting. It was all far too muted in your opinion and it made you miss the character of your apartment.

Besides a few framed photos of what you assume to be his family and friends along with some light decor, it looks like it could be plucked right off of a Zillow listing.

Even if you wanted to write some flowery prose about his house for the article, it leaves much to be desired.

“Are you settled in?” Your manager asks over the phone. She promised not to call you after this initial check in, but you figured she’d find other ways to be nosy about how things are going. She was a fan of Joshua, so her prying for extra details wouldn’t be completely unexpected.

“Yeah, everything’s been good,” You shared, completely nestled onto the couch with a blanket.

“How’s Joshua?” She inquires with a slight lilt.

“He’s doing well. We’ve already got some parts for the interview, but I haven’t seen him skate yet,” You recall the banter of last night with a small smile. You were both being friendly, it was completely harmless.

“Well, you still have a lot of time for that, but I’m glad you’ve made some progress. I’ll let you go, but let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” You respond. You exchange goodbyes and go back to mindlessly scrolling on Twitter.

“Were you talking shit about me?” Joshua asks. You whip your head around to notice him watching you, completely unsuspecting in his business casual attire. You shriek in fear, clutching the blanket before reaching over to throw a pillow at his face. He narrowly avoids it with a massive grin on his face.

“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me,” You sigh, pressing a hand to your chest to check your racing pulse.

“I’m light on my feet.”

“Yeah, clearly,” You grumbled.

“You look very comfortable,” He teases, pointing to your current seating position with a chuckle. Your body is completely wrapped up minus your head. It probably looks quite funny by the way he bites his tongue with a childish smile.

“I am. How were the meetings?” You deflect the attention onto him instead.

“Productive,” He walks around to join you on the couch, landing next to you with a sigh.

“Anything worth breaking an NDA over?”

He rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not,” He scoffed.

“Worth a try,” You finally free your arms from the blanket, but you’re still wearing a hoodie.

“Why did you need the blanket if you’re wearing a hoodie?” He asks politely, pointing to your chest.

“I get cold easily!” You protest.

This oversized maroon hoodie was your signature writing piece, you absolutely needed to wear it for big projects or else you wrote pure shit.

You’ve had it since you started writing professionally, a random thrift store find that has given you incredible luck over the years. It’s helped you through many long nights of writing and editing throughout your career.

Thus, you put it on in an attempt to stir up some inspiration, but to no avail.

Joshua is charmed by this backstory though, nodding along with his head in the palm of his hand.

“You think it’s dumb,” You’re projecting onto him, without a doubt.

“No, it’s not! It’s actually very cute. You can wear it to the rink later.”

“We’re still doing that?” You grimace. He joked that he was going to take you out onto the ice, but doing it this early into the trip felt like overkill.

“Unfortunately, yes,” He pouts. “I’m forcing you out of the house so that you don’t steal my blankets.”

“Very rude.”

—

The rink is far bigger than you could’ve imagined. You haven’t been in many throughout your life, but since it functions partly as a stadium, it makes you feel even smaller.

He leads you to the check in booth to introduce you to the staff onsite for the day. If he’s coming to practice solo, he remarks that the employees only door is typically unlocked for him, and his suspicions are correct.

“Hey, man, it’s good to see you again,” Joshua embraces a taller man into a hug once he walks through the door. “Cheol, this is Y/N,” He glances between the two of you with a hopeful smile.

“Y/N, this is Seungcheol.”

“Hi,” You wave politely and everything starts to register for you. You’ve known of Seungcheol for a long time through Joshua’s social media, you knew they were longtime friends and Joshua was always open about being close with Seungcheol’s family.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Josh has told me a lot about you, you’re always a hot topic around here,” Seungcheol smirks to Joshua’s dismay.

“Not in a bad way, everybody loves your writing,” Joshua tries to diffuse the tension with a short smile.

“Is Sumin here?” He switches the topic completely, looking around to the back door for any sign of life.

“Yeah, she’s just with her mom. I’ll go get her,” Seungcheol replies before heading further back into the venue.

It’s another minute or two before he comes back with a toddler in his arms, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joshua. She squirms in Seungcheol’s hold until he puts her down, and she takes off running until Joshua catches her in his arms.

“Joshie,” she screams into his ear. He spins her around for a moment until she’s giggling uncontrollably. It was absolutely adorable, it even got a smile out of you.

“Hi Minnie, how are you?” He’s beaming from ear to ear at her.

“Good,” she nods decisively. He points to you before introducing you to her.

“That’s Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine, can you say hi?” He coaxes her with a gentle voice.

“Hi,” She waves and Joshua is celebrating her again with a small kiss on the cheek. He seems like such a natural with her, it’s as if she’s his own daughter.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” You wave back and she offers you a shy smile.

“I have to go, but I’ll just be skating out there with Y/N, okay?” He reassures her with a sweet pat to her hair before handing her off to Seungcheol.

She puts her head on Seungcheol’s shoulder with another nod. “Out there,” she points to the ice.

“Yep. Be good for dad, I’ll see you later,” He winks at her before leading you both out to the ice.

Your heart is warm from the entire interaction. He sits down on the bleachers and you land next to him, silently placing his duffel bag onto the ground.

He unzips it to reveal your skates. He ordered them before you arrived, promising that he would get you to skate at some point during the trip. You just didn’t predict it would be this early on.

“How old is she?” You asked, toeing off your sneakers before putting on the skates one at a time.

“Two,” He smiles fondly at the thought of her. “Cheol and his wife are such good parents, they were worried about being too young but they’re perfect to her.”

“So you’re her godfather, I assume?”

“Is it that obvious?” He scrunches his face. He turns his attention to his skates for a moment, quickly lacing them up and tightening them. You didn’t even notice him taking off his other shoes.

“Yeah, you definitely gave off dad vibes, but it was sweet.”

“Him and his family have done so much for me, I couldn’t say no. I also helped him ask out his wife on their first date, so it was inevitable,” He pushes his hair out of his face with a grin.

“They helped you adjust here, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll always be grateful for them. It started with discounted rental fees because I couldn’t afford to use the space, so I owe a lot to them. I pay them back in any way I can,” He nodded solemnly.

He has a deep sense of gratitude that is admirable, it makes you wonder what it’s like to be so deeply initiated into someone’s life that there’s no question if you’ll be there forever, it’s just a matter of what role you’ll play.

It made sense that Joshua knew the place so intimately, he was clearly a member of Seungcheol’s family. He grew up in this rink, watched his friends grow and start their families. It was a safe haven.

“Are you ready to skate?”

“Barely.”

“That’s the spirit,” He rubs your shoulder before standing up. You also stand up, albeit far more slowly, facing toward the ice.

You’ve gone ice skating multiple times in your life, but not enough to remember anything past the basics. You step onto the ice, but you already feel like the surface is going to give out any second.

Joshua notices you start to flail and rushes to place a protective arm around your waist. “Are you okay?”

“No,” You squeeze your eyes shut and are already considering admitting defeat. The idea of voluntarily skating with an Olympic gold medalist had to be the worst idea you’ve had in a long time.

“Do you want me to get you the walker?” He asks sweetly. There’s absolutely no malice there, but it still feels slightly patronizing.

“Joshua, that’s not funny,” You whine, anxiously looking down at your skates.

“I’m not joking, I’m just giving you options!”

“No, I don’t need it. I just got nervous,” You reassure yourself. That was the truth, it was mostly the shock of being on the ice again after such a long time.

“Ok, so if I let go, you’ll be fine?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m letting go. Just bend your knees if you think you’re gonna fall,” He slowly moves away from you, looking expectantly to see how you’ll fare on your own. His advice works and you find your balance without too much effort. You do remember how to move forward on skates, so you decide to impress him a bit.

You move easily, pushing your back leg out and to the side before alternating legs, making your way across the ice without much issue. He is visibly impressed, gasping at you with his arms crossed.

“You’re so good! I thought you were a beginner,” He praises you while skating over to your side.

“I am! I don’t know anything other than this.”

“That’s fine, then we can just expand on that skill today. Nothing crazy, I promise,” He calms your nerves with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

The skill in question is extending the standard forward movements into drawn out strokes, so it appears as though you’re gliding instead of walking on the ice. You would leave that back leg out for longer periods to create a more elegant appearance when you move forward. When he demonstrates the move, you’re mesmerized. No matter how many times you’ve seen him do the same moves, there’s still an enchanting quality to his skating.

He can elevate any move without much effort, but that is clearly from years worth of work and persistence into making his moves clean.

Joshua is an incredibly patient teacher, far more than you expected. There’s absolutely no frustration when you make a mistake, just a quiet encouragement to keep going.

When you unexpectedly lose your balance, he’s making sure you fall backwards so as to not injure your hands. When you’re visibly frustrated, he lets you take a break for a few minutes to regroup. There’s a level of care you didn’t expect, but then again, it’s Joshua. He couldn’t ignore your requests for help even if he wanted to.

You’re not ready to do full out spins or jumps yet, but you are instilled with a new confidence that you can at least try something new without getting immediately discouraged.

“Are you good with finishing up there?”

“Yeah, I feel good. I do need something from you, though.”

“And what is that?”

“Your best jump.”

“Best jump?” He looks back at the ice before facing you again, seemingly considering all his options. Despite all of your years of supporting him, you still didn’t know the difference between the jumps, but you figure it’s best not to ask for more explanation than this.

“Pretty please?” You flash a smile that he can’t deny. He lets out a quiet laugh and his eyes search the ground for a moment before he nods.

“Okay, I’ll do a quadruple jump combo, but only because you asked so nicely,” He sighs, squaring his shoulders for a moment.

“I appreciate it a lot,” You amp up the compliments in hopes that he doesn’t change his mind.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” He skates away from you to find a solid starting position. You move to a corner wall to observe and stay out of the way.

He takes a deep breath before starting his entrance, snapping through both jumps with ease. He landed evenly, coming out into a pose for you, his arms pointed up with flair before putting them down again.

“Very impressive,” You compliment him.

“It was, wasn’t it?” His breathing is a bit uneven once he comes up to you again. You smile at his cockiness, but it’s well earned.

He restrains himself from practicing any further or else he’ll be here for hours on end, but that’s not too different from most days. He tells you this is one of his shorter visits, somehow being here for under 3 hours is an accomplishment worth celebrating.

You both say goodbye to Seungcheol and Sumin before heading out to his car. You climb into the passenger seat while he adjusts his seatbelt. He decides to let you interview him while he’s driving although you were fine with waiting until you were back at his home.

“So this current practice routine is the most intense level you’ve been at in the past 4 years?”

“Yeah, I slowly had to work it up to this point after the injury. It was almost painful to slow down that much, but I needed to,” He focuses on the road while responding. You’ve opted for writing notes on your phone and recording at the same time.

“How did it initially feel for you to go through it?”

“I hated it. I didn’t break my ankle normally either, so it wasn’t just the typical advice of staying off your ankle for 8 weeks. It took so much longer than everyone anticipated and I had to genuinely stop everything I was doing,” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel to your slight shock.

“I’m sure it was frustrating to not be able to enjoy that podium moment either.”

“Right, it was as if I didn’t even make the podium. I got 3rd place, but it was so excruciating to even be up there, I didn’t feel like I earned it,” He looks visibly upset just recounting it to you. It hurts to hear just how insecure he became afterwards. In hindsight, it makes sense that he didn’t want to spend time discussing it. Back then, the radio silence just made you hope that he was taking care of himself, not feeling pressured to keep anyone updated. Why would he want to constantly relive and dissect that kind of trauma?

“Do you ultimately want to redeem that moment?”

“I hope so. There’s always pressure to constantly outdo yourself, but I just want to finish the routines safely. That’s all I want,” He nods solemnly and you automatically believe him. Although he’s safely finished the other competitions within a season, there’s still an underlying fear of things going wrong at the worst possible moment.

“From what I saw today, you’re being careful,” You assure him. It’s not wrong to say that either, especially when he was helping you with the execution of the moves earlier. When he was done showing you a certain idea, he didn’t linger in the pose too long at all. It felt like he was overly cautious if anything, but you didn’t want to shift the mood too drastically.

“That’s from all the paranoia, trust me. I don’t want to feel afraid to compete, I want to break out of that habit,” He finally glances at you for a moment.

You’re grateful that he seems to echo your internal sentiment. There was never an air of hesitation around his skating, he was always quite self-assured in himself, but you both know that never conquering your fears could indefinitely stunt your growth. He obviously needed as long as possible to rebuild his self image and confront his fears.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll find that courage again,” You place a hand on his shoulder. The tension settles almost immediately at your touch.

“You think so?”

“I know you will. It’s either that or withdrawing from the Olympics which just sounds like a lot of paperwork, honestly,” You joke.

“You’re right, it’s a shit ton of paperwork,” He giggles and readjusts his hands on the wheel again.

You knew that last part wouldn’t be used for your final work, but it’s nice to hear him joke about it all. You liked being there for him as a friend, even if you’d never know exactly what it’s like to be in his position. He deserves that kind of empathy that’s not hollow or backhanded, you figure that’s the least you could do for him while being here.

You could finally even out the foundation of friendship in this way, silently repairing all the mistakes you’ve made in the past in regards to your relationship.

He’s able to talk a bit more about his recovery before the end of the drive and you feel satisfied by the end of the night. Over dinner, it feels like everything is evolving, not just the article itself. He’s opened himself up a bit further and you’d like to treasure that.

—

“You don’t have to stay the entire time, you know that right?” He turns his glance toward you away from the ice with a smirk playing on his lips.

The infamous 12-hour practice day had arrived, and you were dreading it the most out of the week’s schedule. Yet, you were committed to being as involved in his daily life as possible, despite your natural aversion to waking up at dawn. You didn’t want to be one of those writers that holed up in their hotel room to write their assigned article. It was typically out of your control how much time you were allowed to spend with a subject, but if given the option to spend more time with them, you wanted to take it.

Since it was Joshua, you still felt obliged to play catch up on spending time with him in any way you could, even if it meant watching him from the bleachers for an entire work day. Plus, you were already at the rink this early, there was no use in leaving to do touristy things alone when you didn’t necessarily want to do that anyways.

“I know, but I want to,” You retorted. He gives you that “you’re gonna eat your words” look, but he still accepts your answer.

“Are you still up to be interviewed once you’re done practicing?”

“Yeah, I should be good,” He takes a deep breath once he replies, seemingly preparing himself for the painstakingly long day ahead of him.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” You wave at him and he returns it immediately. You head up the bleachers to find a good seat, ending up somewhere towards the lower half of the seating. You wanted to be in a good position where you could view the full scope of his skating, but also capture the details of his face. Your position ends up being perfect, it makes watching him even more fascinating.

He does most of his stretches further away from you, so you’re caught craning your neck to see him. His muscles are well defined, a fact that you’ve been trying to ignore as the bulk of his arms seem to fight against the sleeves of his shirt as he stretches his limbs above his head.

His warm-up is calm yet still dynamic to watch. His jumps are so effortless that your head spins just thinking about the physics of jumping up into a spin and somehow not falling on your ass as you land.

Yet, he lands them perfectly every time. You know that’s not possible, that there’s probably some small tweak he’d make to the way he entered a jump or a correction he’d make to the angle of his landing, but you were fine living in ignorant bliss of the technical aspects of his skating.

You wanted yourself to enjoy being a spectator, to not fixate on every single detail, and simply enjoy an elite athlete being good at their sport.

He takes a small breather but soon goes into his assumed short program. Most diehard Olympics fans would kill to see even a glimpse of his routines for the impending games, but like any other figure skater, the details are carefully kept under lock and key until the competition begins.

You try to savor the image of him without the full theatrics of the actual performance, and the sight of him is enchanting.

His short program music is a bombastic and dynamic classical piece that forces you to focus on every detail of the performance. It’s a triumphant number, one that exudes the confidence and charisma of an experienced skater that knows the nuances of the song like the back of their hand. You decide that it suits him perfectly as he expresses the power of the song through cutthroat expressions and sharp movements.

After running through the full routine a few times, you notice him stop to take an extended break. He skates back to your side of the rink with a smile on his face.

“Falling asleep yet?” He jokes.

“Not yet,” you return the smile, your cheeks practically hurt just looking at him. It’s nearly impossible to avoid watching him, he’s always had this magnetic charm on the ice that makes him hard to ignore.

“Good, I haven’t bored you yet. How’s the writing coming?”

You glance at your laptop on the seat next to you, accompanied by scattered papers on top of the keyboard. The writing was mostly on pause considering the unusual environment, you didn’t ever write with the same classical song blasting in your ears on repeat.

Also, he was skating, so every time you thought you got into a good rhythm with writing, your eyes drifted back to him gliding across the ice. The sound of his skates hitting the ice was hard to ignore.

“It’s coming,” You lie easily. A quick tilt of his head signals that he knows you’re bluffing.

“Lots of strategizing, huh?” He doesn’t let on though, pointing at your notes instead and you’re nodding slowly.

“You’re not an easy person to write about,” You give him a pointed look and he’s grinning.

“So I’ve heard,” You’re glad he has some level of self-awareness. You’re not trying to give writers who are purposefully uninformed about his career when tasked to write a meaningful piece about him any credit, but he was a somewhat difficult subject.

Not in the traditional ways, of course, he’s not storming out of interviews over small details, but he’s so polished that it’s impossible to get much depth out of him beyond his typical media-trained answers.

You always heard the same things about him from other entertainment writers. He was perfectly kind and respectful to work with, but you would have to try especially hard to break him out of his mold.

Even if you felt that you knew him, you didn’t really know him at all.

The thought sits in the back of your mind like an unwanted guest.

“That means you actually have to keep giving me something to work with,” You sigh, gesturing your hands out toward him.

“We’ll see,” He playfully eyes you up and down, but it has a serious undertone. You’ve made some good progress, but you didn’t want to torture him for details. It wasn’t worth being invasive of his boundaries just to make a better article.

He skates off without another word and he’s back in the throes of practicing the routine. After a bit more technical work on the short program, he moves on to the free program.

The music is drastically calmer, it creates a stark contrast to his first routine. It’s still classical, you’d have to inquire exactly what track it was, but the mood of the piece was much lighter. It was smart of him to represent the full duality of his skating abilities.

His movements are almost fairylike, his delicate spins are effortless to watch. This doesn’t undercut the power of his jumps though, still as dramatic as ever. This routine contains far more quadruple jumps than the short program, likely in an effort to show off his technical prowess.

He wasn’t called the “technical prince” for nothing. It’s a nickname that’s been floating around the fandom since your early blog days, first used when fans noticed that young Joshua’s technical scores at competitions were almost always perfect. It’s followed him for years, evolving to show how clean his technique is.

He’s the textbook example of a good figure skater.

Once he finishes the routine, you can tell his stamina is reasonably depleted. From your occasional glances, you can tell it’s quite taxing to do multiple quadruple jump combinations in a row, yet he pulls it off every time.

The rest of the day consisted of him alternating between the routines, cleaning up details that he wasn’t happy with, and practicing the execution of his moves until he finally seemed satisfied with them. After a while, you figure you can’t write much else for this portion of the article without interviewing him again, so you settle further into the unforgivingly cold seats to watch him intently.

“Y/N!” He calls your name suddenly, waving his hand from across the rink.

“What?”

“It’s time to go home,” He beckons his hand for you to come toward him. You don’t hesitate to pack your laptop and assorted notes back into your purse, rushing over to meet up with him on his side of the rink. You don’t exactly know how to process being included in the concept of his home, even though you know it’s a harmless statement.

By the time you reach the other side, he’s already taken his skates off and replaced them with sneakers, his leg anxiously bouncing up and down as he watches you come over. He’s sat toward the end of the bleachers and you can sense that his body is ready to get moving.

“I just have to get a few things from the locker room and I’ll be ready to go. Do you want to go back there with me?” He looks toward the lengthy hallway behind him before looking back at you in anticipation. You didn’t go the first day he invited you to the rink out of an abundance of caution, mostly for your own heart’s sake.

You could keep yourself under control watching him collect his things, right?

“Yeah, I’ll go,” You nod decisively. He gets up and leads you through the hallway until you arrive at a private locker room, the door is adorned with a small nameplate with his name on it. He downplays how fancy it actually is, but it feels like a miniature hotel suite. In addition to the dressing room itself, it also contains a full private bathroom and sizable closet.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, looking around the room and taking in the full scope of it.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” He adds. You’re still looking around and trying not to touch anything in fear of breaking something.

You turn around to voice your opinions, but you notice something else.

Joshua is shirtless. You weren’t exactly objectifying him, but it was definitely hard to not look at him. He’s taking a moment to wipe off the sweat across his chest, it feels a bit pornographic to keep looking at that point. The next time you look, he thankfully has a shirt on so your cheeks can stop fully burning at the sight of him.

He doesn’t notice your stare, but you do observe the shirts that fall to the floor when Joshua accidentally knocks his duffel bag onto the ground.

“I’ve got it,” You chirp, already reaching down to pick everything up.

“It’s okay,” Joshua hurriedly shoulders the bag back onto the bench, double checking that it’s not hanging off precariously like last time.

Your heads both come up at the same time, your faces only a few inches away from each other.

“Are you gonna move?” You inquire quietly. He stares back, obviously in no rush to fold. His glance is tempting, everything about him is tempting.

“Do you want me to move?” He counters.

Shit.

You didn’t want him to at all, the idea of him walking away makes you want to scream. The tension has been mounting the past few days whether you wanted to admit it or not. At first, you chalked it up to him just being a gentleman, but there was always a hint of something else there. His politeness toward his staff was completely different to the kindness he offered you.

The lingering glances on you when he’s cooking, his particularly fond smiles while you talk about something, and the soft touches all add up in your brain.

Now that you were in a different setting, it was crystal clear to you. If there was ever a sign, this was it.

“No,” You shake your head.

“Can I?” He asks and your heart has already melted into a puddle. No one ever asks you for a kiss. You’re not sure if you would’ve rejected him to begin with, but the tenderness leaves you enthralled.

You nod and he meets your lips with ease. He tastes better than you could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take long for you to move further into the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth. He accepts you and naturally picks up the pace, capturing your lips over and over again leaving you few chances to catch your breath.

“Shit,” You step back first and he’s clearly confused.

“Are you ok? We don’t have to do this,” His voice is far too worried for what you’re actually thinking about, poor thing.

“No, I’m fine, I just remembered that I didn’t get to interview you,” You pout. You genuinely feel guilty for not mentioning it before the lust took over your mind, but it still needed to get off your chest.

“That’s okay, we can just do it here,” He reassures you with a nod.

“No,” you caress his arm, “not here.”

It clicks once you start running your hand up and down his bicep, eventually resting your palm on the side of his neck. The gesture is enough to make him arrange his bag faster than you’ve seen him move the entire trip.

—

“God, you taste so fucking good,” Joshua moans into your ear, momentarily taking his lips off yours to catch his breath. You can’t even form sentences at this point, only quiet moans that show your dissolving restraint. He can tell you’re getting tired of holding back too, in fact it seems to bother him quite a bit.

“I wanna hear you,” He whispers again, he suddenly nips your ear in retaliation for being quiet.

It forces a whiny moan out of your throat, it’s embarrassing to bend so easily to him but his quiet humming on your neck is enough indication to you that he’s satisfied.

He insisted on driving you both home and for good reason, he was so helplessly horny that he couldn’t keep his hand off your thigh for the entire drive home. You felt him snake his hand underneath your skirt, but he didn’t go much further than that, his thumb idly rubbing circles on your inner thigh.

The moment you both walked inside the house, Joshua couldn’t contain himself at all against your lips, thus you were barely standing up against the door.

“Josh, please,” you breathe out. Your voice is weak, you can’t even pretend to have your guard up anymore.

“What’s up?” He barely gets it out before his lips are on yours again. You whimper into the kiss again, tapping your hands against his chest to get his attention. You manage to pull away to speak up.

“Please tell me you’re not gonna fuck me against the door,” You pant, looking up at him with a smirk.

He takes a deep breath and tilts his head to look at you intently. You almost think he’s angry until he suddenly picks you up bridal style, ignoring your startled scream with a smile.

He leads you upstairs into his bedroom and tosses you on the bed lightly, you lean back onto your elbows as he inches closer to you.

“You’re so fucking impatient, you know that?” He giggles at you, hands slowly prying open your thighs with gentle hands. You try not to hold your breath in anticipation, but the touch of his fingertips against your skin is already driving you insane.

“You made us rush home because you swore that you needed to get more material for the interview,” He speaks in a low tone, sliding his hands underneath your skirt again, but his hands stop at your hips, massaging the fabric of your underwear.

“I did, I mean, I do,” You stutter out, making eye contact with him. He laughs at your attempt to be coherent and hooks his fingers under both sides of your underwear. He decides to slip the entirety of his hands underneath, seizing your hips with outstretched palms. He yanks you down the bed in one swift movement, making you gasp.

“You kept teasing me with this skirt, ignoring me and acting like you weren’t already soaked for me back at the rink,” He palms the front of your cunt, confirming how desperate you’ve been for him. It makes you shudder and squeeze your eyes closed.

“No no no, baby, keep your eyes open. You’re gonna interview me right now,” He nods at you and your heart drops to your stomach. You’re already somewhat close to cumming, you’re convinced that a single touch to your clit would send you over the edge.

How the hell were you meant to interview him like this?

“Fuck,” You whine, hips already lifting off the bed to gain more friction.

“I know, honey, you have to focus. Can you do that or do you need my cock that badly?” He teases you with lustful eyes and you clench your jaw. You’re determined to prove him wrong, so you put your energy into contemplating a question to start with.

“I can focus, asshole,” You begrudgingly shift your hips to give him better access. You shake your head and come up with a question on the spot, eyes trained on his expectantly.

“What’s a common misconception about your public persona that you hate?” Your voice holds steady and he slides your underwear off quickly.

He hums to himself for a moment, deciding to graze a finger lazily against your folds. “I’m not a people pleaser or a pushover. People think me being a gentleman means I take all kinds of shit, but I don’t,” He slips two fingers into your core, a light smile plays on his lips when he feels you clench around him.

“So you think people in the industry look down on you for that?” You hear your voice lilt for a second as he finds a steady rhythm, curling his fingers instinctively. Your hips are rocking subtly and he clocks this immediately, he moves to cage you between his legs.

“I know they do,” He confirms with a lift of his eyebrows, “especially when I was younger. It fucked with my mentality a lot, but I know better now,” He adds when he sees your pout. He moves up to your chest, tugging your shirt up slightly. He moves back to let you take off your top and bra, but his fingers are still expertly moving inside your walls. The sound of your wetness is absolutely stealing your focus, especially when Joshua decides to force his fingers inside you even harder with low grunts.

He’s an absolute menace, you’re sure of it.

You only nod to his answer, but he disapproves at your silence. “Come on, you know the rules,” He moves up to capture your nipple in his mouth, eliciting soft moans out of you. Your orgasm is definitely on the horizon, the coil in the pit of your stomach is tightening with every bite to your chest.

“So I assume you channel a lot of frustration into your-” He hits your g-spot particularly hard, you let out a strangled cry that forces a tear down your cheek. You clamp a hand over your mouth, but Joshua is already pushing it off your face to leave a peck on your lips.

“Your skating, shit,” You whisper, you force his head back down to meet your lips in a heated kiss. Your tongue enters his mouth with no hesitation and he returns the kiss just as eagerly. He pulls back after a few seconds and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

“Definitely. People can say whatever they want about me, but I know I’m talented. I don’t have to resort to making shit up about my competitors to compensate for a lack of talent,” He laughs at the idea of being that desperate for attention. It makes your walls flutter around his fingers.

“You like it when I hype myself up, huh?” You watch him move to the crook of your neck, biting down hard on an exposed part of your skin.

“Yes, yes yes,” You slur out, eyes fluttering shut. He giggles at your temporary lack of attention before kissing across your jaw. He retreats back down to your thighs again, placing a finger against your clit.

“One more question and you can cum, I promise,” He nods at you and you return it after a moment, but it’s going to be an uphill battle to arrange your mushy brain into a proper thought.

“Do you think you’re the best figure skater in the world?” You sigh into the air, eyes rolling to the back of your head in frustration. It’s an absolutely loaded question, but you know his ego is massive right now since you’re in the palm of his hands.

His fingers still, the pressure remains deep in your core and he runs his free hand through his hair. The whole act would be far sexier than it already is if you weren’t seconds away from covering his fingers in cum.

He laughs quietly before speaking up again. “I do. We both know I am,” His voice is far too cocky for his own good. His stare is stone cold, he holds so much control over you that it’s almost unbearable.

“Now cum,” His nonchalance sends you over the edge instantly. Your high pitched moan goes completely silent, your mouth agape while your neck tilts back in an effort to regain control. Joshua slips his fingers out and moves up to your face, pressing them gently on your bottom lip. You suck them off immediately and watch him coo at you. “Good job, baby. Ready for anything else?”

“Can I take a nap?” You furrow your eyebrows at him, heart full of malice for his unexpectedly great oral skills, yet he’s still smitten with you.

Honestly, Joshua Hong was always gonna be great in bed. It’s not like you didn’t fantasize about having sex with him over the years, but you didn’t expect the prophecy to fulfill itself this easily.

Somehow, he got you all whiny and pliant when you didn’t expect it at all. It was annoying how well he could please you. You were slightly tired, but you didn’t want him to be a cocky shit on top of you again just yet. You needed to recover.

“Sure,” He finally got off the bed, presumably to help you clean up and your suspicions were correct when he returned a minute later with a damp washcloth. You started to sit up, but he made you lie down again.

Who were you to fight Joshua when he offered to tend to your shaking thighs and messy cunt? It was the least he could do after making you work for your orgasm.

—

The next morning, you’re shocked that Joshua is in bed next to you. He was always up and moving pretty early, deep into his morning routine while you were barely conscious.

You, on the other hand, were trying to treat this week partially as a vacation. When Joshua wanted to bring you along to his private schedules, you were still insistent on taking your time to get ready, much to his dismay.

Thus, you were grateful that he could actually slow down for one day while you were here. As your eyes adjusted to the sunlight filtering through the curtains, you realized this was the rest day placed onto his schedule for the week.

You look over to his sleeping form and realize that you’re deeply entangled with his body. Although you’re lying flat on your back, his head is tucked in the crook of your neck. You don’t dare to move your arms or legs though, as his body keeps you essentially trapped into place next to him.

Your minimal movements still stir him awake.

“Hi,” you whisper. He’s still forcing himself into consciousness, but he waves at you. You sit in silence for a few minutes, silently waking each other up with random touches on each other’s face or arms.

“We had sex three times last night, correct?” You ask out of the blue. He’s visibly confused at your sudden line of questioning.

“Not even a good morning?” He mutters, letting out a big yawn immediately after.

“No. I wanna know because I know you remember.”

“After that first part? I’m pretty sure it was three,” His voice is slightly hesitant, but you trust his answer considering he was dominant the entire time. You also wanted to know because it was becoming increasingly harder to deny how much you like him.

You have to admit, it was nice being able to have him like this, to watch him rub the sleep out of his eyes and cuddle without questioning if he wanted you back. He clearly did, even if his pride wouldn’t let himself say it. It was a matter of who would crack first, now that you’ve established the fact that you have undeniable sexual chemistry.

“How did you get me to go three more times?” This question is especially pertinent now that your muscles felt the aches to match that number. You can barely sit up against the headboard without wincing.

“You asked me to,” He put his hands up in defense.

You now remember that you did ask to keep going. The first time was standard, being called a cockslut during the second round made you go feral enough for a third, and the absolute filth of the last round knocked you out completely.

You were fucked, considering that you didn’t want to have sex with anyone else but only had access to said person for a few more days.

“Right,” You sigh.

“What are you planning to do today?”

“I’m gonna edit the article a bit, I’ve been putting it off. What about you?”

“Chores. I need to get a lot of things done, but remind me to run you a bath at some point today. Your muscles hurt, right?” He’s already out of the bed, stretching his arms above his head.

“Yeah, but I don’t-”

“No, I’m running you a bath. Us, technically since my muscles hurt too,” He raises his eyebrows at the thought of pampering himself, but he’s still insistent on the idea.

“Fine,” You bite back the rest of your response and he picks up on it immediately.

“No rebuttal?”

“No,” You pout, jutting your lip out to garner some kind of sympathy. He falls for it, approaching the bed again.

He leans down to leave a chaste kiss on your lips, his mouth naturally moving up to kiss your cheek as well.

“I promise it’ll be worth it, you’ll feel a lot better,” He softens his delivery for you and it barely hurts once he pulls away. He’s had that effect on you lately, his affection so irresistible that even the worst news has a slightly sweet aftertaste coming from him.

“Come on,” He taps his side of the bed to coax you up, and you slowly follow him.

The encouragement works though, as you’re both propelled into a productive afternoon. Joshua gets all of his chores done, somehow doing three loads of laundry and other assorted tasks while you’re editing.

Meanwhile, you’re firmly planted on the couch, trying to make the interview sound cohesive. You don't need to fully edit while you’re on the trip, that’s not even possible with what you have, but you wouldn’t feel right just leaving the entire process until you arrived home.

Joshua gives you an adequate amount of space, only stopping you to make sure you ate lunch or took a break from looking at your laptop screen.

They were welcome distractions, truly. If the process of trying to capture Joshua accurately in the article didn’t make any sense, it was nice to know the real Joshua was somewhere flitting around the house doing the dishes or vacuuming the living room.

Plus, it was nice to paint domestic scenes about him in your mind.

Joshua doesn’t take breaks much at all, this has been true for his entire career. He’s always competing, always performing, always doing someone a favor by being a guest of honor or special performer. It was nice to see him just exist, to fret over if he had enough laundry detergent for his next load and watch him sort his white clothes from his colorful wardrobe.

You wonder if these moments add up for him too, if he craves this kind of quiet domesticity at times.

He places a gentle hand on your shoulder and you look up at him.

“Can we take a bath now? Is it a bad time?” He worries, but you’re ready to pause.

“No, I’m ready,” You confirm. He helps you off the couch with a steady hand. You walk side by side on the way up the staircase this time, arms linked with hands untouched.

His master bathroom is just as simplistically ornate as you figured it would be. The bathtub overlooks the backyard, displaying a gorgeous view of the city skyline right above the trees.

The sun was about to set, so the view was even more picturesque than you could’ve imagined.

Throughout the day, your aches have been pressing at the back of your brain, interrupting your thought process multiple times, so much so that you don’t know why you fought him against this in the first place.

He opts for picking the right temperature for the water while he leaves you to pick out a calming scent to include in the bath.

You pick an expensive looking lavender bubble bath and he smiles when you place the bottle in his hands.

“I’ve been meaning to use this one, actually,” His eyes light up.

“Sure you have,” You sit down next to him, placing your head on his shoulder. You both observe the water slowly filling up the tub, he silently squeezes the bottle under the running water before retreating once the bubbles start to spread throughout the surface.

You both sit in silence just watching the water fill up, the sound of the faucet echoing throughout the room. Once the tub becomes noticeably fuller, he adds more bubble bath until the top is visibly covered with bubbles.

He insists on getting in first, stripping his clothes easily before settling into the tub slowly. You can already see the tension leave his muscles, especially on his face. His jaw loosens and he takes a deep breath.

He opens one eye and giggles when he sees you hesitate to enter. “Come on, I don’t bite,” He reassures you.

You move to take your clothes off in a few quick movements. He watches you with adoration, as if he’s never seen you naked before and he’d like to take it all in for a moment. Stepping into the tub isn’t too difficult, but when he suddenly pulls your waist down, the splashing startles you.

“Josh, you’re gonna get water everywhere,” you whine.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing, remember?” He pulls you flush against his chest. He punctuates his question with kisses behind your ear.

Right. You force yourself to take a breath and settle into his skin.

You know your skin is littered with light bruises from the night before and he seems to notice this, his hand silently tracing over the red marks before stopping near your collarbone.

Once he stops moving and you stop overthinking, the silence is perfect.

It’s not entirely silent, there’s still the hum of the overhead fan creating ambiance, but the dim lights pull you into the fantasy of it all.

You realize that you haven’t felt this peaceful in a long time. Perhaps it’s his presence or the fact that you haven’t sat in silence on your own in so long, but you want it more often.

You want him to envelop your life with his gentle reminders and caring gazes, silently telling you that there’s no point in working yourself to death if there’s no life for you to live outside of that.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever want your career to slow down?”

He sighs so deeply that you feel it in your chest. “Is this off the record?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yes. I want to slow down so badly, it feels like my body is fighting back against how much I work sometimes,” His response is slightly pained, adjusting his body underneath you.

You pause for a few moments before speaking up again. “What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t-,” He hesitates.

“It’s okay,” Your voice mirrors the softness that he’s given you throughout the day. He gathers his thoughts for a second before trying again.

“I don’t know who I am as a person if I don’t work. This has been my entire life, if I get a few days to myself I feel like I’m going insane,” He sounds so tired of keeping up the charade, tired of being everyone’s perfect gentleman, just tired of it all.

“Have you told your team?”

“Yeah. After this Olympics cycle, I’m pulling back. I need to before it’s too late, you know?”

“Absolutely. I don’t want you to burn out even more.”

“I’ve been burnt out for ages, so what’s a little bit longer,” He chuckles bitterly. It felt like a poor response the moment you said it, but something in you hoped it wasn’t wrong to be concerned.

“So you’re gonna do the charity skate tomorrow even though you’re burnt out,” You predict.

“I mean, yeah, the skating itself isn’t the problem. I love performing, I’m just not built to keep going without consistent breaks anymore,” He reasoned.

It made complete sense knowing how quickly his career ascended once he entered the elite circuit. He hasn’t left the top 10 of the World Standings since his first full elite competition season which is incredibly hard for anyone to keep up throughout their career.

It’s no wonder that he’s tired of keeping an unmanageable pace.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. You don’t know what else to say. What could you even tell him?

“Please, it’s not your fault.”

“Do you want me to put this in the interview? Or just write some filler paragraph about it?” You giggle through the last question and he's amused as well.

“Filler, please. I’m confident you won’t make me sound like a dick,” He plants a kiss on your cheek as a silent thank you.

“I promise I won’t.”

“I am excited for the show tomorrow though,” He shifts the conversation and it’s a welcome change.

“Anything fun planned for your number?” You asked.

From what you’ve read, Joshua’s rink held the annual charity skate event in order to honor the professional skaters who train in their facilities, allowing them space to perform routines that they may not have had the chance to otherwise. Notoriously, skaters were extremely flashy with their songs and costumes since there was significant creative freedom.

“Not really, it’s nostalgic of my old numbers.”

“Will I remember it?”

“Definitely, it made your ranking of my best performances forever ago,” His laugh vibrates through your body.

“That list definitely holds up, by the way,” You defend your teenage choices blindly, you definitely hadn’t seen it since you posted it, but it’s nice that he actually remembered some of the content you posted.

“I know you’ll love it,” He presses a long kiss on your cheek once again, but lingers against your face this time.

You’re back to silence again for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” You apologized. You can sense that he’s already shaking his head no at your words before you can finish your sentence.

“It’s just as much my fault as it’s yours.”

“You know I was avoiding you, though,” You clarified.

“I noticed that,” You could tell that he was smiling through the response, it makes your cheeks burn.

“I was definitely doing the same though,” He immediately follows it up. In all honesty, it was a relief that both of you decided to bury yourselves in shaping your respective careers. You were unintentionally coping in the same ways, silently hoping the other person was making better choices.

Alas, you were too similar for that to be true.

“But you know what?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really proud of you. I haven’t told you that enough and I feel terrible. I should’ve been there for you,” he replies earnestly.

After all this time, he was proud of you. In retrospect, you thought you were too obsessive or had unintentionally crossed his boundaries as a fan. Yet, that was never the case. He was always grateful that you supported him at every turn, so why wouldn’t he return that gratitude to you?

You didn’t need his validation, the initial interview all those years ago was enough to satisfy you a million times over, but he needed to express it.

You were eternally grateful that he acted on that need.

However, that last part of the confession urges you to sit up completely. You turn your body as much as possible to face him without splashing the water too much.

“You were there for me.”

“Leaving comments on your Instagram is not supporting you in the way you need, you know that,” He counters.

He’s right. You adjusted your expectations for Joshua years ago, you weren’t happy with how things were, but you accepted that your communication would always be limited.

You didn’t have the courage to talk to him, you figured things would never change. It wasn’t smart, you wasted far too much time refusing to invest in your relationship simply because of your own cowardice.

It seems he also became content with barely doing enough.

“I’m sorry for doing the same thing.”

“This can be a truce, then. I want us to be closer if you want that,” He holds out his hand and you take it immediately.

“I absolutely want that,” You're grinning so hard that your cheeks hurt. “So this means you want to kiss me again?”

“You have a massive hickey on your neck and you don’t think I want to kiss you again?” He’s almost fed up, but that smirk tells you otherwise.

“I’m just making sure,” You lower your head coyly. “Come here, babe,” He beckons you over, but he’s too eager to let you make the entire distance. He captures your lips with ease, placing his hand on your cheek. You steady yourself with your hand on his arm, leaning into the kiss with a sense of urgency.

It’s only a few moments before you pull back. “Josh, the water is so fucking cold,” You laugh through your shivers.

He reaches behind you to open the drain and kisses you again. You can’t help but smile against his lips.

The new uncharted territory you’ve forged with him makes your skin burn with excitement.

—

As soon as you arrive at the backstage area of the rink, Joshua’s whisked away by his stylist and assistants to the dressing room. You’re escorted to a VIP viewing area towards the top of the rink, a lounge with access to multi-view screens and a bird’s eye view of the ice.

Before the show starts, you familiarize yourself with the other figure skaters performing tonight. You’ve heard of all of them to some extent, having watched them in anticipation of Joshua’s performances in the past at invitationals and other competitions. Tonight was no different, as Joshua would be the last skater performing tonight.

The marketing team knew exactly what they were doing with that decision.

There were definitely fans of the other skaters dispersed throughout the stadium, but most people you saw were Joshua fans, carrying slogans and wearing merch with his name on it.

Some people even recognize you on the way up to the VIP section which throws you for a loop. They were mainly shocked that you were even at this kind of event in the first place, but it felt validating to be complimented for something outside of him.

Although the other skaters are highly entertaining to watch, your mind feels ready to see Joshua perform. Their performances are satisfying, but that particular spark is missing. It feels reminiscent of when you’d anxiously stay up to watch livestreams of his performances at 3 am, live updating your followers on the exact time when Joshua would be performing.

It was bittersweet to be able to watch him in person. It’s been years since you’ve watched him perform in the flesh, but the circumstances feel perfectly aligned.

“Performing Every moment of you, please welcome Joshua Hong,” The announcer’s voice booms through the stadium speakers and the stadium erupts into cheers. The sight of him waving to the camera is enough to leave the stadium in shambles, so his steps onto the ice are even more precious.

The pink top was the right choice now that he’s about to perform. He made you pick between a few options earlier in the day, but the sheer sleeves and pastel color match the mood perfectly. His side parted hair is neatly styled and light makeup highlights his soft features. The lighting really does his face justice as he purses his lips slightly, adjusting his head slightly down to enter his starting pose.

He moves a hand onto his heart and tucks his right leg behind his left.

As soon as the music starts, your heart clenches.

He chose this particular song, out of all his older routines. This song was in constant rotation throughout his first elite competition season, you could practically see it in your sleep.

When you watch him, you notice that the routine has barely changed either, the step sequences are just as smooth as you remember with delicate flairs of his new style.

The music is somehow more emotional than you remember, a sign that his artistry evokes such a vivid image that you can only think of him and this particular routine when you hear the song.

The execution of his combination jumps are flawless as always, and the audience agrees with loud applause every time he lands them. It seems as though he doesn’t have to try as he glides around the rink, a dreamy expression paints his face as he visibly connects with the lyrics.

He always transformed into a new character in every routine while still maintaining his own distinct style, it was something you deeply admired about his skating.

Before you know it, the song slowly comes to a close and Joshua stands in that final pose you remember so well, his face settling into a soft smile.

The crowd is absolutely obsessed with him, you look to see that many people were on their feet for a standing ovation. You immediately join in, looking toward his reaction. The cameras capture his shock, he’s pleasantly surprised by all the fanfare. He takes it in for another minute or so, looking up at the people in the stands with appreciative eyes. He finally bows his head and waves before skating off the ice.

When the entire group is called back onstage for final bows and the closing ceremony, he is once again dazzled by how intensely the crowd cheers for him once he’s introduced onstage. It’s precious to watch him try to shake it off with his hands on his face, looking to his fellow performers for a way to avoid the attention. He has always been appreciative of his support, always remaining humble in the face of his popularity constantly growing.

It doesn’t take as long as you expected for him to meet up with you. He asks you to wait in the hallway outside his dressing room, and he soon emerges; he barely lets you get a word out before enveloping you in a hug.

“What did you think?”

“I didn’t think you’d pick that one, honestly!” Your enthusiasm quiets when he kisses you and you suddenly feel acutely aware of the staff around you. He notices your shyness and pulls himself against your ear again.

“We’ll be alone soon, okay? I’m glad you liked it,” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss on the cheek. It made you relax into his touch and hold your hand while you were still in the venue.

Once outside, he lets go to briefly wave at the crowd of his fans before placing his hand on the small of your back.

You hear the gasps when he does it, but you don’t look back at the crowd. The judgment stays in your skin once you’re both escorted into the SUV, even when Joshua’s trying to get your attention with kisses to your hand.

“What are you thinking about, babe?”

“Nothing,” It’s easier to lie in the moment. He eyes you for a bit longer but ultimately doesn't question you any further.

You can’t tell him that everything feels especially temporary now. You know what it’s like to be on the opposite side of it as a fan, the initial feeling of seeing him make contact with a new romantic interest is always shocking. Neither of you owed them anything, you never had to reveal the depth of relationship if that’s what you both wanted.

He says he wants you, but that inevitable “what happens next” conversation hasn’t happened and you’re leaving in the next 48 hours. If there was any time to figure out the definition of your relationship, it was now.

Although the conversation in the bath last night was enlightening, you needed some kind of finality. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for vague promises anymore.

Will he make you a priority when his schedule is about to amp up even more?

If you needed to move on, you’d rather know now before you’re on another 13 hour flight left to your own devices.

—

You’re able to tag along with Joshua to his practice session with his coach on your last full day in town.

Although the conclusion of the trip takes up most of your brain space, it’s still interesting to watch his skating become informed by a new perspective. You couldn’t hear all of the critiques in detail, but it was enough to understand how Joshua’s energy was shaped through their leveled guidance.

He switched from his longtime coach once he broke his ankle, understandably citing that the old coach had pushed him to the point of collapse, no matter how grateful he may have been for his old coach’s support thus far.

The dynamic was far more supportive, you concluded. You were able to get more writing done, but your eyes drift to him more often than not.

He practices intensely for around 6 hours today, still a considerate amount of time considering the other practice days in his schedule. He didn’t appear distracted when you were watching him, but he was clearly eager to be alone with you again. He was practically pulling you into the front door once you arrived at his home.

He leads you upstairs to his bedroom before closing the door quickly.

“Kiss me,” His request is urgent, and you oblige despite feeling hesitant.

It’s best to just kiss him, to enjoy a good thing standing right in front of you while you have it.

He’s showing all his tells that he wants more than just kisses, cradling the back of your head, moaning into your mouth. It all still feels so enticing.

Yet, as always, he seems to notice something’s off before you can. He must notice the tension in your body that you tried your best to will away. He pulls out of the kiss and examines your eyes.

“Are you ok?” He’s slightly panting. You force yourself to close your eyes to steady your nerves.

“No,” you admit.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, you know that.” He knows exactly what you mean by the way his shoulders drop. He looks nervous, not sure if he’s about to lose you.

“Why not? What would be so wrong about being with me?” He’s genuinely upset, fighting your answer almost instantly. Therein lies the problem, there’s nothing wrong about dating him as a person. It was simply the logistics that made everything far more complicated than your heart could bear.

“Nothing,” your voice trembles. “It would be great,” A tear falls from your eye and he’s already reaching up to wipe it away. You don’t stop him from touching your face.

“But I can’t be halfway across the world from you, I can’t watch you pretend to love me and then start dating someone else right in front of my face again.”

“You know dating Ara wasn’t my choice, I wouldn’t do that to you again,” His voice is strangely quiet.

Ara was a famous Korean actress who was practically a critic’s darling at this point in her career. She dated Joshua for 4 years, long enough for the Korean public to become absolutely enamored with the idea of them. The concept of Korea’s charming upcoming actress and Korea’s technical skating prince dating each other was obviously popular among netizens, so their sudden breakup was quite shocking.

Their conflicting schedules made it a perfect storm for them to stop speaking to each other.

It all ended very publicly, but somehow Joshua was still beloved in the end. He always was.

At a work gala he was the guest of honor for, he told you that he wanted to be with you over drinks. There were many kisses exchanged in a secluded hallway, promises linger against your skin and you thought they were real.

She was his plus one, but he insisted that they were just friends.

You trusted him, and their relationship was announced a few days later. You were crushed, it made you regret ever thinking you could be more than a fan who simply pushed her luck.

“You stayed with her for 4 years, you loved her,” You persisted.

“No, I didn’t.”

“She said you did,” It bites harder than you expect, but it’s true. There were numerous interviews of her confirming the depths of their relationship. Whenever she mentioned him, there was always long-term commitment implied.

“I promise you I didn’t.” He squares his jaw as he insists on it being false.

“Why did you lie? Why didn’t you just let me down easy? You do it with literally every fan,” You shake your head, knowing exactly what he’s been through. You’ve seen the death threats, ultimatums, and invasive love offers that he’s received over the years. If he could handle that with grace, he could at least give you a proper response.

“You know you mean more to me than that,” He begged.

“If I mean more to you, then you shouldn’t have done it,” You respond. It’s selfish, you know it is.

“You can’t be fucking serious! It was to further my career, you of all people should know that,” He yelled. His voice doesn’t deter you, it simply makes you more determined.

“You could’ve fought back like you’ve done at any other point of your career. You should have fought for me,” You try to yell back but your voice falters again.

“This is me fighting for you, I want you,” He pleaded, moving closer to you out of desperation. Yet, you avoid his eye contact to close your eyes.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” You griped, shaking your head out of frustration. You hate that he’s dodging the question. You’ve seen him fight over much less, you’re not sure why he can’t recognize that he could’ve tried for you.

“You’re fighting me over hypotheticals, shit that hasn’t even happened yet.”

“You had another reason,” You state unremarkably, finally opening your eyes again. It was never a black or white situation, not with him.

“What?”

“You stayed with her for another reason.”

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and internally resets before looking at you again.

“I didn’t want you to feel tied to me. I already knew what people were saying about you because of me, I knew you didn’t want me overshadowing your career. I didn’t want to haunt you,” He seems desperate to make you see his side of it.

“But you did, from the moment I met you. I knew I’d never be able to get over you. I built up a picture of you in my mind for years, and you actually fit it. I was stupid enough to think that my dumb luck would actually let me date you,” You confessed. You lower your head by the time you finish speaking.

He didn’t seem to understand that the dynamic would’ve always been uneven between you, but you were willing to risk it.

“Y/N,” He starts.

“I was fucking devastated that I still needed you,” you interrupt him, “I was doing perfectly fine, but I knew I would regret not doing this interview. I let you in one last time, to see if it’d be different than before, but you’re not ready. You’re still not ready and it was my fault for expecting too much of you.”

The silence is loud, you both have to process all of the feelings stirred up between you.

“I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure if that’s enough.

“Just indulge me for a second, do you love me?” You ask desperately.

He doesn’t speak. He looks torn, as if he wants to but something deep inside himself still hesitated to admit it. It confirms your worst fear, that even when there’s no other obstacles in the way, he can’t be what you need.

You scoff, wiping your face once again.

“Thanks for letting me stay here, I guess,” You walk back to your room and shut the door behind you. You unconsciously listen for any movement outside the door, to see if he would chase after you.

He doesn’t.

He does a variety of tasks in the kitchen, you hear running water and the sound of cabinet doors shutting, but he never approaches the door.

The kitchen light turns off and you hear his bedroom door shut.

You’re honestly glad he left you alone, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

As you settle into bed, you remember that he wanted to drive you to the airport tomorrow.

You’d rather walk the entire way than let him see you like this.

—

Joshua is an idiot, all things considered.

It was right there, he had the chance to tell you everything and give you his entire heart, but the words were stuck in his throat. He can barely go to sleep that night, but he could at least send you off to the airport the next morning.

It was wishful thinking that the drive would be any less painful, but he could at least fulfill his promise of taking you there. Thus, he doesn’t expect the guest room to be empty when he stumbles out of his room to go make himself breakfast.

He’s suddenly on high alert, thinking of all the things that could’ve possibly happened to you.

His internal monologue stops when he sees a note downstairs on the kitchen counter. He picks it up and curses under his breath.

“Changed my flight, your driver took me to the airport. Thanks again for letting me stay. - Y/N”

The message feels so stiff, it lacks any of your personality. Yet, he couldn’t pity himself for too long, he had to find you.

He had no idea if your flight had already taken off or not, but he at least had a location. Your original flight wasn’t until late afternoon, so he figured you must have been really fed up to change it to a mid-morning flight. The anger you felt transcended your hatred of mornings, and that was enough to really get Joshua moving.

He decided to stick with the clothes he had on to minimize the amount of time in the house. He wasn’t sure if it was smart to buy an impulse ticket for a flight he wasn’t going on, but he did it anyway.

As he sat in his car, he wasn’t sure if he locked the front door, but the adrenaline made him forget altogether.

The drive to the airport was a complete blur, he was certain that he blew through a few just-turned-red lights in an effort to get there. Once he arrives, he is anything but discreet.

He thanks his lucky stars that he gets a short security line so that he can run through the airport to find you. He only stops to check the massive flight board for flights to your city before picking up the pace again, almost running into a few people on the way.

He just had to make it to gate 12.

He spots the gate out of the corner of his eye, almost missing it due to his haste. He scans his eyes quickly across the group of people to see if you could possibly be there.

He’s almost given up on searching for you, but just like the movies, he finds you sitting in the corner wearing that particular writing hoodie.

He knows whatever way he chooses to approach you, it’ll scare you. Yet, he opts for the least terrifying option.

He walks over, taking a small breath before speaking up.

“Hi,” It comes out far too hesitant, but it still gets your attention. You look up at him, evidently confused but annoyance shows up quicker.

“What are you doing here?” You’re not moved at all, he felt like an inconvenience.

“We need to talk. Can I sit with you?” He points to the empty chair and you stare at him for a moment. You quietly oblige, giving a quick nod. You didn’t reject him outright, so that’s a win in his book.

“I’m really sorry about last night. I should’ve told you how I felt,” His voice is hushed so as to not disturb anyone else around you. Most people were sitting further away, but he didn’t want to take any chances. You only look forward, not acknowledging him at all.

“I thought about everything and you were right to be worried. I haven’t shown you that you can trust me to commit,” He continues.

“Whatever you want to do, that’s fine. I just,” He stops his train of thought to take a breath.

“I love you. I should’ve told you the moment you asked me, I should’ve told you the first day you came to town. I always knew,” He finishes with a shaky breath. You both sit in silence for longer than he’d like, but it’s understandable. Your longtime crush lets you down then admits he’s loved you for ages, it’s a lot for anyone to process.

“Joshua?”

He turns to face you. “Yeah?”

“That was corny as fuck,” You let out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. He’s happy to see you smile for a bit, even if it’s at his expense.

“I know, I just needed to tell you before you left,” He laughs quietly. It covers up the temporary embarrassment he feels. No matter what you tell him, he figures that it was worth it to put everything on the line.

“I forgive you, though. And I love you too,” You smile through the reply and your voice is the softest he’s ever heard it.

The newness of it all makes him blush.

“Still can’t look at me, huh? Do I make you nervous?” He touches your shoulder in a silent plea for you to let him in.

“Fuck off,” You finally make eye contact with him and grab his hand, fingers automatically intertwined with his. You press the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss. The gesture quiets all his lingering fears.

“I’m not relocating for you though, I like my apartment and my job,” You give him a pointed look.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that. Plus I told you I’m trying to slow down, remember?” The realization hits your face and it makes him giggle.

“Does that mean you’re moving in with me?”

“It might,” He suggests. He thinks he’s a pretty decent roommate, but he’d change his bad habits in a heartbeat if it meant you were more comfortable.

“Not before the Olympics though. And you’d need to sell the house, right?”

“Yeah. Shit, you’re really getting ahead of me here,” He didn’t really consider all the details yet, especially thinking about how shocked his management team would be at the decision, but he knew you were too good to lose.

He lived enough of his life without you, and it was time to switch things up.

“Just making sure you’re aware of what all of this would mean,” You remind him. It was a completely fair critique considering how many directions his life was currently being pulled in.

“Of course, but I’m coming to visit before I move. Many times,” He’s already mentally planning out a schedule in his head, plotting out weekend getaways and week-long trips just to spend time with you again.

“You won’t have your own room though, sorry,” You sigh in fake concern.

“I think we can make that work,” He assured you with a smile.

“I still can’t believe you bought a fucking plane ticket to get past security to come find me. You’re insane,” You shake your head at him in disbelief.

“Your boyfriend is insane,” He stresses the term, “and it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t let you get away like that.”

You both talk for a while, just drinking in each other’s presence as a new couple. While you’re recounting your metal detector encounters, it hits him that he doesn’t know when he’ll see you again.

Everything keeps getting busier between the two of you, and the possible timeframe of him moving seems further and further away with each passing moment.

He desperately wants to slow everything down in his career immediately, for all of his responsibilities to be taken care of for him.

The boarding process begins and he’s wistful, he didn’t think it would hurt so deeply to let you go home. He pulls you into a tight hug, his head nestled into the crook of your neck. “I love you so much, baby,” His voice wavers.

“Don’t fucking cry, you’ll make me cry,” You whisper, curling into his body even further. It makes him smile despite the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I promise,” He attempts to steady his voice, but it’s no use. The moment he has the love of his life, you’re already leaving.

You lean back and press your lips to his, you move as quickly as time permits. It’s not the kiss he wants, but it’s enough to sate him.

He pulls away first, kissing your cheek before standing back to get a good look at you.

“Now go, they’re about to finish up your section,” He pointed to the gate with a watery laugh, finally wiping his cheeks from the tears.

You wave one last time as your ticket gets scanned and you’re no longer in view.

He’s not ready to go back to an empty house, one without you sitting on the couch bundled up in his blankets, staring at your computer with squinted eyes. He’s not ready to fall asleep without you next to him and wake up the next day knowing you wouldn’t be up until midday.

You’ve worked your way into his life and he can’t picture another second without you in it.

He decides that whenever you’re available to talk on the phone, you would plan his first visit.

That was the only way he could cope with the time and distance that seemed impossible to cross.

—

The Joshua profile is edited and completed in due time, somehow without losing your sanity.

Joshua is always sending you his edits, many of which are rejected the moment he comments them. Yet, you promise him that he can have input on another piece.

Once it’s approved through final edits, the profile is received well, all things considered. While there are unavoidable critiques, it still resonates with fans and writers alike. It goes considerably less viral than your other content with him, but viral nonetheless. It gets another boost in attention when Joshua reveals your relationship to the public exactly two months after it’s posted, and people are now re-examining the profile for signs of love blooming in between the lines.

These recent post-profile interviews he did were keeping you company during your downtime after work. You’d find yourself watching them on your laptop in bed, craving the sound of his voice when he was caught up in practice. He told you to watch this one specifically when it was uploaded though, so you decided to listen to him.

“So we have to talk about your relationship and the article,” The late night host segues into the new topic and Joshua handles it with ease.

“Of course,” He’s nodding along.

“So you fall in love with one of your biggest fans and do this reunion interview after 10 years? What’s the whole story?”

“Well, she’s been a fan of mine for my entire career and we first met when she made this viral blog post about me qualifying for my first Olympics,” He recounts the story for what feels like the millionth time, but you still eat it up every time. He has an exact script that you can almost know how he’ll phrase it.

“We film an interview and that goes even more viral, like 20 million views or something crazy,” He stops to laugh for a moment and the audience laughs along with him.

“We met up a few times over the years, but I finally suggested we do something for the 10 year anniversary of the interview. That’s how it all came together,” He nods with a grin.

“That’s amazing, is there anything you want to tell her?”

He looks directly into the camera and takes a breath. “Just that I miss you and love you very much,” His voice softens and the audience lights up with applause. He blows a kiss to the camera before the host switches topics once again, moving on to more Olympics talk for the rest of the video.

The declaration of love is simple, he’s not the kind of guy to make these big sweeping gestures of love, but it’s more than enough for you. You send him a quick text approving of the video and your heart is extremely full.

He moves in right after the Olympics end, but he’ll have a chance to properly decompress from the competition. The anticipation is enough to almost drive you insane, but the wait will be worth it.

—

The Olympics are a complete blur, as expected. You try to enjoy other events during your time there, but the men’s individual skate is the only thing on your mind. Joshua tried to make things for you as comfortable as possible despite living in the designated Olympic Village. He always complained that he wasn’t able to see you by sending you lots of heartfelt texts, but you teased him that he just needed to focus on competition.

Joshua won the gold medal, as expected by numerous sports networks and prediction experts.

You knew he’d win too, obviously.

Although he performed last in the final group, moving his rank down to 5th before his free skate performance, his final showing put him 10 full points above 2nd place.

Your boyfriend, who has been swept up in podium ceremonies, post-skate interviews, and a celebratory dinner is finally alone with you in your hotel room and you intend to make the most of it.

“Congratulations,” You’re practically yelling in his ear as he smothers you in a hug, clutching the back of your head. He’s free of the costume and makeup from earlier in the night, even his team tracksuit was exchanged for an old shirt and shorts.

“Thank you, baby,” His response is muffled against your shirt. You pull away to admire his face for a moment before leaning in for a deep kiss.

He’s feeling just as desperate as you are, swiping his tongue into your mouth with ease. It’s been so long since you’ve had a chance to just kiss him, let alone see him for more than a few minutes at a time. There were still press circuits and endless events for him to attend, but for a moment he was simply your gold medalist.

You barely come up for air for the next few minutes, getting all of the long distance reunion induced kisses out of your system. You step away to breathe against his neck and collect your thoughts.

“I’m so proud of you, like I was fully sobbing in my seat after the scores.”

“You were?” He questions, eyes widening.

“Of course, you’ve worked so hard to get here after everything. It makes me wanna cry all over again,” You’re so fond that it makes your heart swell for him.

“My poor baby, crying her eyes out over me like the good old days,” He coos.

“Yeah,” You let out a shaky laugh and wiped a stray tear from your eye. There were no ways to describe how it felt to watch the love of your life succeed from so many points of view, in some ways your relationship is a time capsule of your adolescence.

Joshua is simultaneously the object of your youth and the promise of a better future.

The journey is never lost on you, all of the time spent learning each other all over again reinvigorated your spirit.

“I’m ready to go home with you, I’m just so tired,” He whispers. The collective stress of the past few years is catching up with him now that the hardest part is over, that sense of normalcy needed to come sooner rather than later.

“I know, love. Just a few more days and we can sleep in as much as we want,” You think out loud, but he seems to like the idea as you cup his face in your hands. The tension melts from his face the longer you stay still and he lets out a quiet hum.

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” You would’ve wanted to do it anyway, but you couldn’t say no to him in this state.

Once you both crawled onto the bed, he naturally put his head on your chest. It doesn’t take long before you’ve both fully relaxed into each other’s touch. The silence is needed after nonstop stimulation from the outside world.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” He doesn’t hesitate this time, it's saturated with adoration for you. You feel the warmth on your cheeks and respond accordingly.

“I love you too.”

He sits up, staring at you with so much love in his eyes. He kisses you just to do it, but it’s perfectly fine by you.

You swear that you could live in this moment forever. There would always be deadlines approaching, endless amounts of work waiting for you, but these moments were too precious to take for granted.

There’s so much love for him in your body that it doesn’t know where to go, but you figure that you’ll find somewhere to place it within due time.

There’s no use in grieving wasted time when his love is nestled so neatly in your heart, allowing you to indulge in the infinite futures you’re able to build together.

He’s not going anywhere, there’s still time.

There will always be time.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Gone Soft

Word count: 6,000

Pairing: Loki x reader (platonic or pre-romantic, open to interpretation)

Warnings: Accidental triggering of a bad memory (but not a traumatic memory, it turns fluffy I promise)

Based on a Prompt from @crimson25! You all can thank JJ for two fics in one day, I was gonna make you wait 😉😉 Hope you enjoy 😊

Loki had a soft spot for you.

It was difficult to say exactly what it was about you. Perhaps it was your sarcastic yet vibrant spirit, which complimented his own personality quite nicely. Or perhaps it was because you always laughed at his jokes or his pranks. He always did appreciate a friend who could stroke his ego. Likely, it also had something to do with your witty intellect.

In any case, he usually spared you from his mischievous endeavors. He preferred you as an ally. Not to mention, he found it difficult to think of anything he could use to prank you that wouldn't seem excessive for someone as gentle a soul as you.

That is, until he overheard you talking one day.

He hadn't intended to eavesdrop. And really, if you didn't want others to overhear your conversations, you shouldn't be having them in the middle of the common room. The fact that he didn't make any attempt to announce his presence was besides the point - you were in a public area, and therefore your conversations were public by nature.

"I heard Loki got you good yesterday," you teased, nudging Thor with your elbow where he sat beside you on the sofa. He shot you a glare, though even Thor couldn't seem to conjure up much anger toward you.

"Yes, I'd rather not speak of it."

"Oh, come on! You have to admit, putting ghost peppers in your favorite brownies was pretty amusing. I thought you were going to actually breathe fire for a second!"

"Ha, ha. Yes, very funny." Thor did not look amused. "When was the last time he fooled you with a prank?"

"Me?" You chuckled. "Loki doesn't prank me. I have immunity from his tricks."

"What?? You can't be telling the truth. Loki does not choose favorites!"

"Well, looks like he did this time. It's probably for the best. He'd just make himself look bad if he tried to prank me."

Oh, is that right? Loki thought to himself. Perhaps he'd been going too easy on you. He couldn't have you touting on about being above reproach, after all.

"Oh-ho, what makes you say that?" Thor chuckled skeptically.

"It's never been done. Nobody has ever succeeded in pranking me. Not in my adult life, anyway." You had a self-assured smirk on your face, Loki could see on your side profile.

"Now, that I don't believe!"

"It's true! I'm a clever person - I almost always pick up on it before the prank can carry out."

Loki had never seen this side of you, this... proud, borderline conceited side. He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't impressed. After all, he shared a similar attitude. But the fact that you were going on boasting that he couldn't touch you with his pranks - well, that was something he couldn't stand for.

"I certainly hope you haven't told my brother of this sentiment," Thor warned. "You must know he would stop at nothing to prove you wrong."

"Oh, no. We haven't discussed it. But, even if we did, I'm still not worried."

Oh, we'll see about that.

Loki had heard enough. He slipped silently out of the room, bound and determined to come up with a prank that would make you eat your words.

* * *

He began observing you more closely, trying to conceptualize what might get under your skin. He worked to learn your routines, assess your quirks, determine what you enjoyed and what you feared. One of the first things he'd learned about you was that you were a particularly organized person, but now that he'd been pointedly watching you, he realized that it irked you when things were out of place. Really irked you.

So, he snuck into your room one afternoon when you were in the training room and rearranged the books on your bookshelf. A fairly harmless prank, really, but he still couldn't quite bring himself to try pulling something as mean as he sometimes tried on the others. Besides - this would be a good starting indicator of how deep this 'immunity to pranks' you thought yourself to have might run.

Loki made sure he was nearby to hear your reaction when you returned to your room. He held his breath as you disappeared through your doorway, waiting silently to hear you say something about your missorted bookshelf. There was a bit of shuffling for a few moments, followed by a sudden sigh of frustration. He had to quickly duck around a corner as he heard your footsteps treading back toward your doorway, disappearing from view just in time for you to re-enter the hallway and stride in the opposite direction.

"Peter! I've told you a million times to put my books back where you found them after you borrow them!" you shouted, voice echoing faintly down the hallway as you headed straight for Peter's room.

Clearly, his prank had succeeded in irritating you, although he didn't feel victorious just yet. Based on your reaction, a disorganization of your books was not an uncommon occurrence. Loki knew he could do better than that. He just had to keep thinking.

* * *

The following evening, he determined the plan for his next attempt.

Steve had insisted on one of his infernal 'team bonding' dinners, and so Loki found himself reluctantly seated at the dinner table with the rest of the tower dwellers. Of course, he'd attempted to decline the invite, but Thor had a tendency to be... aggressively persuasive about such matters. The only redeeming quality of this dinner was that he could continue to observe you for ideas for his next prank attempt.

Tony had insisted that if he was going to suffer through team bonding, it at least had to be taco night. Loki still didn't quite understand the appeal of dumping a bunch of random ingredients into a tortilla, but he at least found the food to be tolerable.

Bruce passed the bowl of jalapeno peppers to you, and you politely declined, stating you weren't a fan of spice. Could it really be so simple? Loki had literally just executed a similar prank on his own brother. Now, granted, he wasn't typically one to repeat his past pranks, preferring to keep people guessing, but you weren't anticipating a prank from him in the first place. It was certainly worth a try.

He knew it would seem suspicious if he made food for you - he wasn't much of a cook himself, at least, not with Midgardian cuisine. So, instead, he chose a different vector to deliver his prank; someone from whom nobody would suspect anything malicious.

"Ah! Parker! Just the person I was looking for," Loki declared the following afternoon after Peter entered the kitchen. Peter stopped dead in his tracks, a panicked look flashing across his face.

"Wh-what did I do, Mr. Loki?" he stammered.

"Nothing. Contrary to popular belief, I don't always seek people out to complain to them," Loki sighed, rolling his eyes. Peter noticeably relaxed, tilting his head curiously. "Now - you can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, is that clear?"

"Y-you want to tell me a secret??" Peter's eyes flashed with excitement, which quickly morphed into a wary gaze. "Wait... this isn't something illegal, is it?"

Loki laughed unsettlingly. "Of course not. Not today." Peter chuckled nervously. "I've been... attempting to learn how to bake, and I'm not certain I'm doing it correctly."

"Really? I thought you hated earth food."

"Yes, well, I'm trying to learn to appreciate it a bit more. If I'm going to be stuck here on this planet, I suppose I should learn to enjoy the cuisine. Or, at least, learn not to hate it." Loki pulled out a box of cookies from the cupboard where he'd hidden it earlier. "You see... if I go around asking people to taste these, they won't tell me truthfully if they enjoy them or not. It seems many have some ridiculous fear that I might become angry if they insult me."

"Ha, ha, how ridiculous, right?" Peter laughed anxiously, averting his gaze.

"So - I'd like to ask you to have someone try these for me, without telling them I made them. Someone who will be honest."

"Like Mr. Stark?"

"No, he'll be a bit too honest, I fear. How about the young agent?"

"Oh, yeah! That would be perfect!" Peter exclaimed.

"Wonderful. Please - take this, and let me know the verdict." Loki pressed the box into Peter's hands. He nodded animatedly, promising to find you straight away as he ducked out of the kitchen.

He hadn't been so cruel as to put ghost pepper in these cookies. If that had set his brother's mouth on fire, he could only imagine how much it would burn your mortal throat. He did, however, sprinkle a few of those jalapeno seeds into the baking mix.

Loki had anticipated Peter would return relatively quickly, given how eager he appeared to help out with this endeavor. What he wasn't anticipating was for you to walk into the kitchen instead. He swiftly busied himself with making a cup of tea just to appear busy and unsuspicious.

"Something you want to tell me, Loki?"

He glanced up from the tea kettle, feigning confusion. "What? I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well... Peter just came running into my room just now, begging me to try these cookies." You held up one of the offending cookies in your hand, an accusatory expression on your face. "He wouldn't tell me where he got them, so I broke one in half and sniffed it first. It smelled an awful lot like jalapeno peppers, strangely enough."

"Is that right? Perhaps he was trying to play a trick on you," Loki responded, brushing you off.

"The thing is, Peter is terrible at playing pranks. He'd have fessed up the moment I started acting suspicious." You stepped closer, holding the cookie out toward Loki. "Know anything about where these actually came from?"

Loki allowed his expression to become dark and indignant. "Are you insinuating that I would stoop so low as to bake trick cookies just to prank you?"

"You heard me talking to Thor the other day, didn't you?"

He couldn't hide the momentary startled raise of his brows at the sudden accusation. It was more than enough to tell you that you'd discovered the truth.

"You know, I expected more of you, Loki. This is a pretty lame attempt, if you ask me." An impish smirk spread across your face as you watched his fall into a scowl. "Let me guess - it was you who rearranged my bookshelf the other day, wasn't it? I blamed Peter for that, you know. You should really apologize to him."

"I will do no such thing." Loki straightened his posture, squaring his shoulders as he strode proudly past you without another word.

"Gonna have to try harder than that to trick me!" you called after him. He scoffed, refusing to turn around as he continued on his way.

* * *

You were clearly privy to his plans now, which meant he had to step up his game. No more playing around - if he was going to get you, he had to start bringing out the big guns. And now that you were on to him, magic was no longer off the table.

Loki bided his time carefully, waiting to strike again until he learned something about you that he could use against you, something that would really get under your skin. He couldn't let you continue to believe you were invincible to his tricks.

It was almost a week before he learned anything of consequence, but boy was it good.

You had gone on a trip to the pet store with Wanda and Vision to help them pick out a pet of their own. She had asked you specifically to come to help talk some sense into Vision if he decided he wanted some strange, exotic animal. The two of you were close, and Wanda knew you'd have her back.

When the three of you returned, you all headed straight to the lounge where many of the team was hanging out to show off Wanda and Vision's new kitten. You were cooing over the feeble animal at Wanda's side, completely enamored with showing it off to an uncharacteristically doe-eyed Steve and Bucky, while Vision sat down beside Thor and engaged in conversation. Loki thought little of it, until he suddenly heard your name come from Vision's mouth.

"I tried to convince Wanda to select a lovely yellow parakeet," Vision explained, "But the young agent recommended against it."

"Remind me - is that a bird of sorts?" Thor asked curiously.

"Yes, it is. A rather self-sufficient pet, actually." Vision appeared somewhat confused. "The agent was quite adamant that it would not make for a good pet. So, we went with Mittens instead."

"What a quaint name!" Thor bellowed heartily with a huge grin. He went on to ask about how they'd selected it, but Loki had tuned out of the conversation by this point.

Birds. You disliked birds.

He supposed it was a rather common Midgardian trait. They could be rather dirty creatures, dependent on the breed. But you seemed to have a particular distaste for them, based on Visions account of the conversation.

Perhaps he would need to explore this further.

He found you alone in the common room later that afternoon, sitting in one of the oversized armchairs and reading quietly. You hadn't noticed his presence, being far too involved in the words on the pages in your lap. It was the perfect opportunity to cause some mischief.

Loki hid around the other side of the doorway, opening the window in the common room with a wave of his hand. You didn't seem to notice, shifting in your seat to drape your legs over the arm of the chair. With a smirk, he continued on with the rest of his plan.

Another flourish of his hand, and he'd conjured the illusion of a bird entering through the open window. He directed it to fly in your direction, wings flapping as it soared right in front of your field of vision before changing direction to fly upward toward the ceiling. It certainly caught your attention.

He hadn't anticipated your reaction, however.

You let out a high-pitched screech of terror, leaping to your feet and knocking the book in your lap haphazardly to the floor. Your hands flew to cover the top of your head as you ducked down, backing away in a crouched position without taking your eyes off the illusion where it was flitting randomly along the ceiling. Curiously, Loki sent the illusion on a nose-dive toward the chair. The sudden change in direction made you scream again, this time with a watery waver to your voice as you spun around and sprinted from the room. Loki stepped back swiftly to evade your detection, but you didn't so much as look up as you bolted down the hallway toward your room, swinging the door open and slamming it shut behind you.

Well that was unexpected.

Loki waved away the illusion now that you were no longer in the room. A heavy sensation of guilt weighed like a stone in his stomach. He thought you simply disliked the creatures - he hadn't realized you had a true fear of them, based on Vision's account from the pet store. He hadn't intended to frighten you into hiding. He only meant to get on your nerves, to prove to you he could succeed in playing a trick on you. A harmless trick.

He had to make amends. You were one of his closest friends - he felt absolutely terrible for hurting you. So, he took a deep breath, then anxiously paced down the hallway to your bedroom, knocking gently on the door.

There was a bit of shuffling on the other side, followed by a turning of the door handle. The door cracked open only slightly, and you peeked through with one wide eye.

"Is it gone?" you choked. Suddenly, it felt as though something had a vice grip on Loki's chest, hearing your distraught voice. He hung his head, shaking it slowly.

"It was an illusion."

You were dead silent for a moment, processing his words as you stood motionless. Then, with a growl, you slammed the door shut in his face.

Oh dear. What had he done?

He knocked again on the door, hearing your muffled voice telling him to go away. "I've come to apologize!" he called to you. The door swung open all the way this time, revealing your tear-stained cheeks and puffy, red eyes.

"Happy?? You win, Loki," you gasped, whirling around and storming over to your bed so you could slam yourself down onto the mattress. He slowly entered the room, shutting the door behind him as you backed up into the corner of your bed to lean against the wall, hugging your knees to your chest and burying your face in your arms. Your shoulders shook as you released hiccupy sobs.

"Happy? Of course I'm not happy," he responded gently, crossing the room to sit on the edge of your bed. "I never intended to hurt you, darling."

"Well, m-maybe you should have thought of that before you sent a realistic image of a... a... bird at me!" You didn't look up as you spoke, your voice muffled in the sleeves of your shirt.

"I had no idea you felt this way about birds. I merely thought you disliked them, after Vision told Thor what happened at the pet store yesterday."

You tilted your head back a bit, peering over your arms hesitantly. "Yeah, I told him not to get a bird because I didn't want one hanging around the tower!"

"Did you tell him you were afraid?"

"Of course not! Who is afraid of birds?? I don't go around advertising it!" Your eyes disappeared against your forearms once again as another sob wracked your body.

Loki was well versed in mischief and mayhem, but what he was not well versed in was comfort and kindness. Still, he couldn't sit here and listen to you cry over a trick of his own doing. He reached over and rested his hand on your arm, attempting to offer a comforting touch despite the fact that it felt foreign to him.

"I... I'm truly sorry for scaring you. It was not my intent." He squeezed your arm fondly. "Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

You slowly lifted your head to look at him, a conflicted look in your watery eyes. He shot you his best effort at a pleading, pouty look. With a quivery laugh, you nodded.

"Fine... I forgive you."

"Thank you."

He gave you a few moments to try to recollect yourself, tears slowly coming to a stop. His hand never left your arm, thumb sliding tenderly along your sleeve as your hiccups quieted.

"Look at me - I'm such a mess!" you laughed, wiping your eyes with the heel of your hand.

"You're not a mess. It's me who should be laughing at the absurdity of my actions."

"Well... yeah, I suppose that's true."

He grinned sheepishly. "So... might I ask - what is it that you find so terrifying about those creatures?"

You buried your face in your hands to hide your flushed face. "It's silly, really. It's not a very good reason."

"Try me."

You peered through your fingers. "Promise not to laugh?"

"I swear on my life."

You giggled. "Wow. No need to be that dramatic." With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the wall. "Alright. When I was a kid, I was at my uncle's farm, and... I got chased by a goose."

Loki bit his tongue to keep from grinning. "Oh?"

"I know, I know. It sounds ridiculous. But seriously, they are terrifying when they're pissed off!"

"I believe you!" he insisted, turning his face so you couldn't see him straining to avoid smiling. You shoved his shoulder with your hand playfully.

"Alright, alright. I know, it's funny. But ever since then, I've been scared of all birds. So... that's the story." You glared at him warningly. "You can't tell anyone about this."

"It will be our little secret." He winked, pleased with the fact that it made you smile just a little. "You know... I'm happy to show you that illusion again, if it would make you feel better. Now that you know it isn't real."

You gazed at him hesitantly, then nodded. "Alright, show me."

He lifted his hand, palm facing upward, and conjured the bird once again. He let the illusion remain still in the palm of his hand, allowing you to view it from a distance. You eyed it hesitantly but curiously, sitting up a bit to get a closer look.

“It’s so real,” you breathed, flinching as he made it duck it’s head, then laughing at yourself self-consciously.

“It’s merely a projection. It isn’t solid, it can’t be touched, and it can’t touch you,” Loki explained. He looked at you, watching as your shoulders relaxed gradually away from your ears and you shifted your legs from their place against your chest to fold cross-legged in front of you. With a raise of his brow, he moved his hand only slightly closer to you, making certain not to make sudden movements. “I can put it in your hand, if you’d like.”

You shook your head firmly. “No, thank you. This is good enough. But, thank you for showing it to me. You have an amazing talent for illusion casting.”

“Thank you.” It was impossible to hold back a smile at your compliment. The only person who ever had kind words for him about his seidr was his mother. He made the illusion dissipate in his hand.

“Well, I’ll give you one thing,” you stated, “You definitely succeeded in pranking me.”

“Hardly. My intent was to have a good laugh, not to make you upset.” Loki shook his head sheepishly. “Perhaps next time I’ll stick with the classic spider trick.” He reached around behind you and skittered his fingers down your back for emphasis, pleasantly surprised when you suddenly arched your back and giggled.

“Hehey! You can’t do that, I’m ticklish!” you whined through your giggles, a bright smile finally lightening your features. He grinned impishly, chuckling as your cheeks flushed. “Uh… heh, jokes on you, that was just a trick.”

“Oh really?” He grabbed your side and tickled you more intentionally, his grin widening when you shrieked and buckled away from his hand. With a playfully nervous look, you began to scramble to get off the bed, leaning forward to land on your hands and knees and crawl toward the edge. Loki was faster than you, seizing the opportunity to grab hold of both your sides and knead his fingertips into the sensitive skin.

“Ack - Lohoki!! Nohohot fair!!” You collapsed onto the mattress as his fingers hooked around to scratch at your belly where your sides wrapped around your front. A feeble attempt to block his access, really - he already had his fingers underneath you, and so he continued wriggling them into the spot, encouraged by the increased volume of your giggles.

“Not fair? You literally told the God of Mischief you were ticklish. What exactly did you expect would happen?” Curiously, he shifted to flutter his fingers at the small of your back, amused by your sudden surprised jolt and more desperate squirming.

“Soho much fohor APOLOGIES!” You rolled onto your back to prevent him from reaching it, only succeeding in providing him open access to claw at your belly. You turned onto your side and curled your knees up into yourself, and he merely shifted one hand to scratch at your back while the other remained in its place at your belly. “LOHOHOKI NOHOHO!!”

“My, how unfortunate. You are ticklish everywhere. How exactly do you go about hiding it, hmm?”

"CL-AHAH-CLEHEARLY NOHOT WELL!"

He paused to give you a moment to breathe, pleased at the fact that your face was no longer bright from crying, but from laughter. You shifted to sit up, curling your legs in front of you protectively with your arms wrapped low around your shins, protecting your sides and belly.

"You... you know, I should b-be the one to get to torment you after you pulled such a cruel trick," you grumbled. Loki laughed, his head tilting back from the effort.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not even t-mmpf."

"Sorry - what was that?" you chided, hand retracting from his side where you'd snuck in a quick ticklish pinch. "I didn't catch it. Sounded to me like you were trying to say you weren't ticklish."

With a low, playful growl, he latched his hand onto your ribs, slipping past your defenses to knead into the bones. You released an ear-splitting screech before toppling over sideways in a rather pitiful attempt to evade his fingers.

"NO, NO, NOHO! I-HI SHOHOULD GET A TUHURN!"

"Darling, that isn't how this works. You know Midgardian social construct better than I." About halfway up your ribs, your laughter became sort of squeaky as you writhed under his ticklish touch. Your eyes scrunched shut with the sheer effort of your giggling, which was a much happier sight than the puffy red eyes he'd encountered when he first opened the door. Perhaps he did still feel a bit badly about all of that.

He let up once again as your squirming became weaker, chuckling fondly at your disheveled state. You cracked your eyes open to give him the least threatening glare he'd ever seen.

"I-hi still think... I should get a turn."

"You honestly think I would submit to this?" He scribbled into your ribs again for emphasis.

"AHAH-hehey! Don't you feel any remorse for making me so upset?"

You adopted a soft, pouty expression as you gazed up at him. Normally immune to such tactics, Loki was more than a bit startled to find he actually felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He glanced away from you to rid himself of the image, but it was burned into his brain now. Curse you and your innocence.

Loki let out a heaving sigh. "I suppose it would be... fair."

"Really??" The sheer degree of excitement in your voice was overwhelming.

"Yes, however - I will only offer you ten seconds unhindered."

"What? That's like nothing!" You folded your arms defiantly. "I think I at least deserve ten minutes."

Loki snorted at the mere suggestion. "Absolutely not. Thirty seconds at most."

"Five minutes."

"Thirty-five seconds."

"Oh, come on! You're not even bartering right," you groaned, eliciting an amused laugh from the trickster.

"You want to bargain? Fine." He pondered for a moment. "Alright, here's my final offer." You leaned forward, listening intently. "Two minutes-"

"I'll take it!"

"I wasn't finished." He smirked. "Two minutes, but the moment those two minutes are finished, the tables will turn."

"How is that fair??"

Loki shrugged. "It's your choice what you do with your two minutes. Perhaps it would be wise to save one of them to find somewhere to hide."

You shoved your tongue into the inside of your cheek, glaring at him. "This doesn't really seem like payback for your cruel and unusual prank."

"Darling, I'm not certain you understand what the value of this offer is. You'll not receive an offer like this again."

The internal conflict played out on your face as you considered his offer. "Ok... I'll accept the terms, IF you promise not to fight back for those two minutes."

"I will do my best."

You grinned. "Worried you're too ticklish to handle it?"

"Don't push your luck, darling."

"Ok, ok. Stay still, I need to get ready."

Loki did as he was told, wondering exactly what possessed him to give in to this little game as you shifted to sit behind him with your legs stretched out on either side of his hips, sliding your arms around his middle. What was it about you that made him go soft? He'd never even consider allowing anyone else to trap him like this with the intent to seek out his weak points and exploit them.

"You comfortable there, Loki?" you asked teasingly.

"I suggest you get on with it. Your two minutes starts now."

With a noise of disapproval, you wasted no additional time in kneading your delicate fingers into his sides. He grunted, sucking in a breath in an effort to keep from gratifying you with a reaction. If anything, it only encouraged you to try harder as your fingers pressed gently into the entire length of his sides and ribs in search of a sensitive spot. He couldn't help but jolt when your fingers grazed his lower ribs where they wrapped around his front. Ever the perceptive one, your deft fingers refocused their attention on that spot, tickling until he finally broke into broken, breathy laughs.

"Ah-HA! I knew I'd make you laugh," you cried triumphantly.

"Yohou have ninety s-seheconds."

"Plenty of time to find your weak spot." You suddenly clawed into his belly, earning louder laughter from the god. "Ooh, even if I don't find it, I could just stay here and listen to you giggling the rest of the time."

"Yohou insolent- mmh." You slotted your fingers up under his arms and he immediately tensed, crushing your hands beneath his biceps.

"Ah-ah! You promised."

With a grumble and a glare, he slowly lifted the pressure of his arms off your hands, clamping them right back down the moment you began wriggling your fingers into the soft skin once again. He was laughing without restraint now, unable to hide the fact that you were getting to him.

“Did I find it?” you asked, scratching harder into his highest ribs. He nodded - a lie, of course. It may have been centuries since someone had dared even attempt to tickle him, but he remembered exactly where it was. “Oh now I know I didn’t, if you’re telling me I did.”

You cursed clever thing.

With some difficulty, you tugged your hands free from under his arms and tickled your way down his sides. He held in a breath, letting it out when you shifted back to his abdomen and fluttered your fingers against the thin fabric of his shirt. Fortunately, you hadn’t seemed to notice - you were too busy testing out every inch you could reach of his belly in search of the one spot that made him laugh the hardest.

"Hmm." You paused a second, allowing him to breathe.

"Yohou have fourty-five seheconds," he reminded you pointedly.

"I swear I'm going to find your weak spot." You drummed your fingers on his sides where they rested just above his hips, and he hoped you didn't notice his sudden tensing. "Wait - is it your feet or something? That would be so unfair."

"N-nope."

"I don't believe you. I need to know for sure."

Loki shrugged. "Suit yourself. You're wasting your thirty sec-ONDS." His eyes widened as you pinched curiously at his hip, his voice pitching up in volume out of reflex.

"Oh-ho! What's this?" You squeezed your fingers into both hips simultaneously and he jolted hard.

"N-need I remind yo-HOU that you have twehenty seconds to RUHUN."

"But..." You sounded terribly conflicted. If you took the time to exploit this newfound knowledge, you would almost certainly not be able to escape. But if you bolted now, there would definitely not be another opportunity to even attempt to exploit it.

Clearly you decided the risk was worth it.

You were ruthless, fingers springing into action kneading and pinching at the sensitive spot. Loki couldn't even try to tone down his reaction - he simply burst into hysterics and squeezed your wrists in an effort not to actually push them away and prompt you to say he cheated. It turns out twenty seconds is a rather long time to have someone relentlessly targeting your most ticklish spot.

Unfortunately for you, it was twenty seconds for him to build on his desire for revenge.

So, when time was up, he wasted no time in whirling around on you and tackling you to the bed. You let out a shriek of protest, quickly drowned out by your own laughter as he launched his counterattack on your hips.

"My turn," he growled playfully. You appeared surprised at how sensitive you were in that spot, eyes widening and laughter pitching up in octave as he dug his thumbs deeper and faster into those soft spaces by your hipbones. "Now you understand, hmm?"

"OHOKAY! IHI GET IHIT!!"

"You say that as if I'm finished - I need to find your weak spot." He let his hands go still, amused by your incoherent babbling protests. "Perhaps your earlier suggestion has some merit?"

"Wh- oh, ahabsolutely not! Loki! LOHOKI!"

He ignored your shouts, reaching over and snatching your ankle off the bed where it rested. Eyeing you with a mischievous smirk, he raised his free hand to the sole of your socked foot threateningly with a wiggle of his fingers. The effect was immediate, and you began desperately pulling at your ankle as anticipatory giggles poured from your mouth.

"THIS IHISN'T FAHAIR!!" you whined.

"Darling - I'm simply trying to make you laugh," he insisted. "I do so hate to see you upset."

"Then MAHAYBE you should learn to be FUHUNNY!"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Bold - insulting me when you're in such a precarious position."

Before you could offer false apologies, he scribbled his fingertips into your sole, and your words died in your throat in favor of squeaky laughter. You may have been perceptive, but he was even more so, quickly finding that a light scratching of his fingers along the inner arch of your foot made you screech with loud ticklish laughter after only a few seconds of his targeted attack. He almost felt badly for you, but the vibrant sound of your laughter was a wonderful alternative to the shaky sobs coming from you earlier. Still, he supposed you might explode if you continued to laugh this hard. So, reluctantly, he released your ankle and ceased his ticklish onslaught, grinning fondly as you curled up in a ball on your side to pull your feet in close.

"Oho my gohod, Loki... thahat was..."

"Ruthless?"

"Well, yes. But... it was fun, to be honest." You smiled sheepishly. "Not sure I should thank you for torturing me..."

"Oh, it's far too late for that. You're welcome." He winked cheekily at you as your face flushed. "And... I truly do apologize for scaring you. I hope you can actually forgive me."

"I meant it when I said I forgave you, Loki." You rested a hand on his forearm with a warm smile. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. Just... maybe don't try pranking me again."

"I've no need for that - I can just sneak up behind you and tickle you whenever you start getting cocky about being 'immune to my pranks.'"

You shoved him teasingly with a roll of your eyes. "Alright, you still owe me though."

"How can I ever make up for my transgressions?" he asked dramatically.

"How about... there's an ice cream shop down the block. Buy me a cone?"

He sighed, rising to his feet. "I suppose it's the least I can do."

It occurred to him, as you led the way out of the tower and down the street to go to this ice cream shop you spoke of, that he'd never felt the need to apologize for a prank before. But you... you had some unusual power in you that he still couldn't explain.

You'd truly made him go soft.

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 8

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.4k [a/n]

Thank you so much guys for being patient. I’m feeling so so much better now, but still recovering. 

Updates will still be slow but doing my best. I want to pay attention to my other hobbies again (dance, sing, games, cosplay). 

AO3 link is in the masterlist page.

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist. 

Part 7 || Part 9 || masterlist

He wakes up from the slight trickle of light seeping through his room’s window. Did he not close his curtains before sleeping? He always makes sure they’re closed because he hates waking up to the brightness of the sun. Even the slightest rays of light  cause him to wake up. He sits up and rubs one eye as he tries to make sense of why his curtains are open and why his head feels a bit funny that morning. 

His hand stops moving and his whole body goes stiff when last night’s occurrences flash in his head. There’s not one single moment omitted from his memory.  

He remembers drinking in that foul place because he was so upset that he even bothered going there in the first place. He remembers every little foolish thing he did - the immense amount of flirting from his end, his inability to walk straight, talking to his fucking keys, and getting caught drunk by his brother. 

He looks at the space beside him for a while and groans, regretting everything last night.

The only pleasing memory from last night was when you laid down on his bed… and everything that followed after that. Yet that seems to be the only thing he imagined apart from the rest of what he can remember.

He’s been repressing the urge to kiss you ever since you broke the deal. So much so that  his brain probably conjured up a scene that would satisfy that desire. 

It felt so real though. You were so pliant and inviting. Even now, he can still remember how you whimpered his name and how you arched your body closer towards his touch.

He gently shakes his head.

You probably decided to go home after you changed and he was probably asleep by then, dreaming the whole thing. He reaches for his eyewear case and wears his glasses.  He seats himself at the foot of his bed, gathering his thoughts once more before he stands up.

He hears his door open and doesn’t bother looking up. It’s probably Akiteru. He’s very sure he’ll hear from his brother about him being drunk and brought home by you. He doesn’t have any valid explanation as to why he got himself drunk... so he keeps his head down to avoid his brother’s gaze before the taunts come. 

“Please don’t tell me you have a hangover.”

The voice is definitely not Akiteru’s. He slowly lifts his eyes up to see if it’s truly who he thinks it is.

When he does, his eyes land on your figure leaning back on his door with your arms crossed as you regard him with both worry and chagrin. 

You’re wearing his clothes, like you were in his dream. Was it really a dream though when you’re actually in his room right now wearing the exact same clothes?

No, it wasn’t. It really happened. You slept with him, in the most literal sense, with your hands clasped together. He takes in your appearance again. Without his glasses last night, he didn’t notice how big his clothes actually are on you. He really doesn’t pay much attention to your build. Your personality makes you standout and your presence is bigger than most people he has met.

But as he stares at you now, you seem silly acting all high and mighty when you look like a mouse wearing his clothes. He keeps a straight face despite being amused at your appearance.

Unable to read Tsukishima’s expression, you feel your frustration rising. Is he still dazed? After all the effort you put last night, does he have a hangover? He’s staring at you far too long without saying anything. “I will give you the worst earful you’ll ever get in your life if you have a fucking hangover,” you spit out. You did not suffer last night’s horrors only for him to have a hangover this morning.

“I don’t. I’m only trying to recall everything last night,” he says with his voice back to normal, devoid of the previous evening’s teasing and uncharacteristic flirtatiousness.

You two regard one another carefully, traces of what happened clear in each other’s eyes. Yet, no one dares speak of it. 

You decide to break the ice first as you smile your best at him. “I hope you remember how you talked to your keys,” you say with mirth glazing your tone. 

He squints at you while you maintain your cheery grin. He averts his gaze and answers, “I did no such thing,” even though his demeanor clearly says he fully remembers he did. 

You snort before getting your clothes last night from his desk. You place the bottle of water you grabbed from their kitchen to his desk. “Drink up. You’re still probably thirsty,” you tell him with a tone almost similar to Coach’s when someone from the team is acting up. Then you head to their restroom without saying anything else.

When you finish changing back to your clothes from last night, you check your reflection in the mirror. You look a bit tired but still okay, considering what you’ve been through. At least Tsukishima is no longer a flirting menace and you’re no longer a blushing virgin. 

You dump his dirty clothes in their laundry basket and go back to his room to let him know you’re leaving.

“You will attend this afternoon’s training, right?” you ask just to be sure. He stands up and narrows his eyes at you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You grin at his response. The Tsukishima you know is back and is as nasty as you remember him to be. “Great to know. Anyways, I’ll leave now. I have classes soon and I still need to go back home to change,” you announce before going for his door.

But before you even touch the door knob, you feel him grip your arm. “Hey,” he says sternly. You turn around to face him, curious about what he has to say that he has to touch you to stop you from leaving. “What?” He answers by dipping down to reach your lips. He plants a chaste kiss on them that it makes your heart tumble from how uncharacteristically tender it is. He pulls back, remaining only centimeters away from your face for a while before he completely withdraws away.

You gape at him dumbfounded, uncertain what to make of what he just did.

“I’m confused,” you admit.

He cocks one brow up but the rest of his features are still unreadable.

“I thought you’d be smart enough to get what it means,” he says before a smirk creeps up on his lips, turning his blank expression to a smug one.

You scoff and look away with disbelief, but you quickly recover as you face him again with a smirk of your own. “You really this snarky in the morning, Tsukishima? You could’ve asked nicely if you wanted to be kiss buddies again,” you taunt him for you know he won’t openly admit it.

“I already did. Last night,” he answers, his eyes and tone no longer sneering.

He did?

‘We already broke that deal, Tsukki.’

‘Then let’s bring it back.’

He did. 

You just didn’t think he actually meant it. You were convinced that it was just an alcohol-induced volatility. 

Your confusion turns to something you can’t fully describe, something exasperating yet delightful at the same time.

You chuckle as you roll your eyes. “Indeed, you did,” you say before stepping out of his room, but for the second time, he stops you from leaving.

“You haven’t given me an answer yet.”

With your back facing him, you smile when you hear his persistence. 

You hastily turn around and latch an arm around his neck, pushing yourself against his body. You tip your toes to reach him and press your lips firmly against his.

Before it even sinks in him, you quickly pull back with your arms slowly dropping on his chest. You give it one tap and quietly say, “There’s your answer.”

You swiftly release yourself from him and third time’s a charm, you successfully get out of his room.

He watches you hurriedly close his door, then sighs when you’re no longer in sight.

“How annoying,” he utters.

Yet there’s the tiniest smile on his lips as he starts getting ready for his day.

—

Even though your secret deal is back, no one speaks of what almost happened that night on his bed. Both of you are aware that it did, but no one dares mention it. 

The secret kisses you share are also back to how it was - passionate but still harmless, nothing like the sensual one you had when he got drunk.

There’s also been no repeat of the hugging disaster you did at the Sendai gymnasium. Things are back to how it’s supposed to be. 

Yet you can’t shake off the feeling that something changed. 

Whatever. Maybe you’re just overthinking it because the project is ending soon. When it does, your little secret will cease to exist and you’ll become nothing more than his manager. Things will be back to how it was before the unfortunate pairing your professor did.

Was it really that unfortunate though? You stare at nothing for a while then take a deep breath to brush off your unnecessary thoughts.

You should be focused on the upcoming game, not on what happens with you and Tsukishima behind closed doors. You better go down to the benches with them than staring at the court when there’s not even a game taking place. 

“Fancy seeing you again, Miss Manager.”

You turn your head to the side to see who’ll be this match’s receiver of your rejectorama streak. You’re a bit surprised when it’s not someone in their jersey, but someone in a business suit regarding you with a professional smile. You know this guy. You’ve met him somewhere for sure. 

Ah, yes. He’s that guy talking with Bokuto when Tsukishima introduced you. 

You return the guy’s smile as you tilt your whole body to face him. “Sir Promoter,” you acknowledge quaintly. “How may I be of any help to you today?” 

“I was wondering if you can tell me more about the Frogs this year,” he says kindly, all too kindly for your taste. You’d brush him off but you might just be reading into it too much. He might be actually only doing his job.

“I’d love to, but we have a game. Maybe another time, Sir Promoter,” you maintain your goody two shoes act to mirror his nice guy demeanor.

“How about tonight then?” 

There it is - the slight tug of his lips and the hint of mischievousness that quickly flashed by his eyes. It was there only briefly but you saw it. He accidentally bared the fangs he’s hiding.

You take a step closer to him and give him a calculated smirk. Something tells you that you can’t pull the same antics you use to drive others away with this guy. You remember how he was studying you when you met the first time. You know he was into you or liked how you look at least.

As quick as he is to slip to his playful demeanor, he’s just as fast to be back to being well-mannered and polished, which you’re not totally sold on.

He’s playing a different game from others who have tried to ask you out. So you decide to change it up a bit and be upfront with him rather than creep him out with your weirdness.

“Are you asking me on a date, Sir Promoter?” you ask with unbridled mischievousness designed to throw him off.

Your plan works as you see him catch off his guard a bit with your direct question. However, he instantly recovers with his civil smile back on his face. 

“Me? Sorry to disappoint but it’s purely for work.” 

Your brow shoots up at his response. 

“It won’t be a date or anything,” he says with the same nice guy facade right before he tears it down as he smirks and leans down to whisper in your ear. 

 “Unless you want it to be.”

A smirk shows itself from your lips before you can suppress it. You have to admit. This guy is good. He knows that part of your job is to provide the information he needs from the team. He’s using that to his benefit and make it seem this invite is completely for professional purposes.

You might have believed it and might have been completely fooled if you haven’t met him yet before.

You laugh a bit as you internally admit your defeat.

“After the match then, Sir Promoter.”

He pulls away and stands straight back up with a grin. “It’s Kuroo, in case you forgot,” he reintroduces himself. “I didn’t.” You wink then pass by him without saying.

Kuroo chuckles to himself when you leave. He doesn’t mix business with pleasure. He really needs to get the updated profile of the Frogs for their database. He also needs to know which players he can include for their collaboration with Molten.

He planned to keep things professional and tried to keep his business pants on. But he failed to keep it for long when you easily noticed how attracted he is to you.

He shakes his head with a smile then heads to the benches where he’ll watch the game himself.

—

You clap your hands merrily after you tally the last winning point made by Kyoutani. Two  more games and your team will be up against a team from Division 1.

The Frogs have only been successful in achieving a game with Division 2 in your first year as a manager. After that it’s been mostly at the top 3 or 4.

This year, you’re confident that you’ll advance again among other Division 2 teams. 

When the team disperses for some down time after the match, you approach Coach Mira. “Hi Coach, I won’t be on the bus going back. The VBA promoter wants to ask me stuff about the team. I’ll gather everyone when it’s time to leave then meet the guy. Is there anything else you need me to do, Coach?”

She looks at you and smiles gratefully. “Nothing else, y/n. Thanks for your hard work as always.”

You smile back appreciatively before you turn around to get back on your tally sheet. You need to review the statistics of each member who played in the games.

“Hey,” you hear Tsukishima’s voice behind you before you grab your notebook.

“Hmm?” you respond quizzically, wondering what he might want from you after a game. “You’re meeting Kuroo later?” he asks with his usual empty tone and expression.

“Yeah. You know him?” 

You know that Tsukishima knows Bokuto, but you’re not sure if he knows the promoter Bokuto was with at the time. The Kuroo person might have just been there. Tsukishima nods. “He…,” he trails off, sounding unsure of what he’s going to say next. 

“He what?” you ask as you get your tally sheet from the bench.

“I trained with him too, along with Bokuto. He taught me how to block.” You put down the tally sheet and gape at him. “Really? That guy is your mentor?” 

You supposed that Kuroo has the build. He’s tall and even with his suit on, you can tell that he has some muscles going on underneath it. Now that you think about it, he’s actually kinda good looking. It’s just that a lot of athletes are buff, tall, and good-looking too that you’re desensitized to it now. 

“Yeah,” he responds. “I see. He’s asking me about the Frogs, something for his job I guess. I’ll meet with him right after I make sure all you guys are on the bus on the way back.”

You expect him to walk away and go to the restroom like he always does after a game, but he just stands in front of you saying nothing. “What?”

“You should ask to reschedule. It’s already late.”

You look at your phone to check the time and it really is late than the usual time the games end. The slot the team got was the last match for the day and the earlier games were delayed so the team finished at already 9.30 pm. “It’s fine. I don’t think it will take long anyways.”

He takes a few seconds before he answers. “Right,” then he walks away. You finish summarizing your tally sheet then gather the members of the frogs. You make sure everyone is on the bus before you take your leave and go back inside the gymnasium where you agreed to meet Kuroo.

You see him against the railing where you were watching from earlier. His elbows are leaning on the banister with his hands on his pockets as he grins at you who’s walking towards him.

“Shall we commence this professional get-together?”

“Yes, we shall. Would you prefer going somewhere else?” he smiles as he asks.

“I’m all set here if it’s purely Frogs’ information you’re after,” you answer craftily, attempting to make him admit that there’s another kind of business he’s going for. 

“Here it is then,” he responds with a grin, resolute in his stance that he’s not going to ask you out tonight. He clears his throat and stands up straight, his deviousness gone as he starts asking questions.

Damn, you were mistaken about this guy. He was just toying around with you earlier but really had no plans to ask you out. He must be like you who just likes to mess with people every once in a while. You probably came off cocky to him this morning.

More than being embarrassed, you’re amused. He’s actually interesting. 

“That’s that, y/n. Thanks for your cooperation on this one,” he says politely. 

“No worries. It’s part of my job.”

“Do you have a card so I can get back to you if I need anything again?” 

You get your cardholder from the pockets of your pants, but you don’t feel anything even as you reach even the deepest parts of them. You check the pockets of your jacket as well but it’s not there either.

You most likely left it at home.

“Uhhh. I don’t have it with me right now. You can just take my number,” you suggest.

He raises one brow quaintly but brushes it off immediately as he hands you his phone. You take his phone and as you’re about to enter your contact details, you suddenly feel uncanny with giving him your number this way.

You look at him and ask. “It’s the same thing, right?”

He frowns. “What is?”

“Putting my number like this on your phone and giving you my business card,” you answer.

He chuckles lowly and glances at you with a very amused grin. “For you sake, I’d say yes, they’re the same.”

You enter your contact number and hand it to him with a smile. When he gets it, he raises his brow and looks back at you. “Manager of Sendai Kermits?”

You nod. “That way we keep it professional.”

His grin spreads wider as he pockets his phone. No one would put that kind of name in their contact details and genuinely think it’s professional. 

“I have to be honest, y/n. You’re making it really hard for me to keep it strictly that way.”

You feign innocence as you put a gentle hand on your chest. “Me? But I’m not doing anything.”

Right, and Volleyball is a sport played by monkeys in pink dresses. “Sure,” he agrees and lets it go before he does something out of line like asking you to have late dinner with him since the game ended late already. “We done?” you ask.

“Yeah. Sorry, I took longer than I expected,” he apologizes. At times, he’d get drawn in with how you speak and how entertaining you look while doing so that he got distracted. “How are you going to get home by the way? It’s late already.” If you’d ask him, he can take you home. Though he highly doubts you’d ask that of someone who’s practically a stranger. 

“I think I can still catch the bus,” you casually respond. 

“I can walk you to the bus stop if you don’t mind,” he discreetly offers, making sure that you’re comfortable with the idea. 

“Hmm,” you ponder. Unlike the girls who he has gone out with, he can tell you’re not playing hard to get by delaying your answer. You’re really deciding on whether you’d let him extend what little time more there is to enjoy your company.

You grin at him genuinely, none of your pretentious facade whatsoever. “Alright!” you stand up and don't wait for him as you start walking already. 

He shakes his head then easily catches up and walks beside you.

“How long have you been a manager?” It wasn’t a question to start a small talk. He’s seriously curious how long you have been doing this. He only got the promotion recently so he does not know most people aside from his friends and acquaintances from his Volleyball time in high school. Previously, he only had to work at the office. He’s establishing his own connections only now.

“Three years and counting,” you respond with your eyes straight ahead. 

You’re a year ahead of him in this industry then. He got his job at the VBA two years ago. “Three years, huh? Isn’t that when Tsukishima joined the team as well?”

“You’re really that close with him, huh?” You remark with intrigue as you two continue walking towards the exit.

“Taught the boy everything he knows about blocking,” he comments with a grin even though you’re not looking. 

Your rich laughter fills the empty hallway as you finally glance his way. “Why do you sound like a 40-year old man?”

“What can I say? I’m full of wisdom,” he counters immediately, causing you to raise an eyebrow to go with your amused smile.

“Forgive me, Mr. Promoter, but I have to say you're full of shit.”

He cackles uninhibitedly from your sharp-witted retort. He knows you have one hell of a personality based on the little interaction you had when he first met you, but you’re proving yourself to be a whole lot more than what he anticipated. 

“Am I that easy to read?” He asks with traces of his laughter still in his voice. You scrunch your nose quickly before smiling prettily at him. “I’m afraid so.”

As you two are about to reach the exit, he decides to just go for it. You’re getting more interesting and more interesting as he talks with you and there’s not really a rule that he’s not allowed to date people from the professional teams. 

Since the meeting is done, this right now is technically not part of his job anymore. He’s doing it to spend more time with you. 

“Actually, y/n. I have my car parked outside. If you don’t mind, I can drive you home instead,” he offers more at ease this time. 

He seems like a legitimately good person who can grasp your sense of humor and hold a fun conversation. Most importantly, you somehow feel comfortable around him. Besides, it would be nice if you don’t have to take the bus or hail a cab to go home. 

So you don’t take too long to decide. “Su-”

“Hey.” Someone cuts you off as you reach the outside of the Sendai Gymnasium. You look at your left where the familiar voice came from and see your favorite middle blocker. He’s still wearing the Sendai Frogs’ jacket, but now has pants on instead of their official shorts.

“Hey,” you respond with a puzzled look as to why he’s still there when you clearly remember he was seated at the back of the bus before you stepped out of it. 

“Tsukishima,” Kuroo acknowledges his presence cordially with a grin. 

Tsukki bows a bit to the promoter with an impassive expression, then looks at you again but doesn’t really say anything..

“What are you doing here?” you ask since he doesn’t look like he’s going to explain on his own. 

He doesn’t answer and remains silent with his eyes glued on you. Your brows furrow a bit as you ask again. “I said what are you-”

“Coach asked me to wait for you.”

You blink at him several times while holding his gaze. You look down for one quick second then turn to Kuroo with a huge, dumb smile on your face. “I’d have to pass tonight, Kuroo. Coach might worry if I don’t go with him,” you point to Tsukishima as you say it. 

Kuroo notices how you smile differently, more earnestly, with Tsukishima’s presence. He turns his attention to Tsukishima whose eyes are still on you despite the blank expression on the blonde’s face. 

Tsukishima said he’s there because their Coach said so but Kuroo doesn’t buy it one bit. He can’t imagine Tsukishima willingly abiding the Coach’s orders to play nanny for you. Unless Tsukishima himself wants to do so. 

Kuroo knows that you and Tsukishima are not dating. If you were, you wouldn’t be so surprised that he’s here waiting for you. But that gives Kuroo confirmation that something is going on with you two. 

He looks back at you and returns the smile. “No worries. Maybe next time?” He asks casually albeit the meaning behind that laid-back question. 

“Maybe,” you giggle softly as you answer. “I’ll see you around, Kuroo.” You give him a brief wave then head to Tsukishima’s side. The blonde, on the other hand, gives him a quick nod and bids him, “Good evening, Kuroo-san.” 

You turn to him as well, “Good night!” Then pour your whole attention to the other guy beside you as you two walk away from him. 

He remains where he is and watches your animated expression from afar. He really likes you. It’s too bad you like someone else though. 

When you two are out of his sight, he walks to where he parked his car. 

--

“So, Tsukki,” you grin at him. “Coach really is that concerned about me that she asked you to.. wait for me?” you ask with your tone dripping with amusement because you know that Coach will never ask that of someone, especially him. Coach Mira thinks he despises you and even if he doesn’t, she still wouldn’t. Coach Mira knows you can take care of yourself. 

“Shut up,” he says lowly, but nothing more. You’re expecting a snide response but it doesn’t come. 

“As thanks for last time, I’ll take you to your dorm,” he says with his eyes straight ahead.

You keep your gaze on him for a few more seconds then turn to the same direction he’s looking at. He never did thank you for it, but it’s not like you were expecting him to. You helped him get home out of concern both as his manager and his partner in class. 

You didn’t expect that he’d still be thinking about it even after a week. Although, it makes sense that he does. Obviously, he’s never been in that state wherein he needed help getting home. He probably feels like he’s indebted or something. 

Tsukishima glances briefly at how you’re still smiling even when you’re not talking. Earlier, he was battling himself on why he got off the bus and chose to wait for you. Sure, it’s pretty late, but it’s not like you can’t go home on your own. If he’d be honest, until now, he still doesn’t know why he chose to get left behind and stand outside for who knows how long. 

But seeing you as you are now, he knows he made the right decision to stay.

---

The timetable you planned for you and Tsukishima has long been messed up. You were supposed to finish this project a month ago. But a lot of things happened during your private meetings that you lost track of how you’re progressing along. 

It isn’t only until that afternoon where you receive the last write up you need from Tsukishima for the project that you’re made aware that today is your last day together. 

After you get the notification in your email, he glanced your way. 

“What else do you need?” he asks.

You try to think of what else he can contribute, but you come up with nothing. Everything is set. You’re just restructuring your output as a whole so it’s coherent. 

“Um. Nothing. We’re all good now,” you announce blandly instead of rejoicing that it will finally be over today. 

You look at Tsukishima and find him looking at your screen. “Let me look at it,” he says to verify if it is as good as you say it is. 

You slide a bit to your right so he can check the document himself. He skids in front of your laptop and scans the draft of the document you put up, checking for any possible room for improvement. 

But you really are exceptional in organizing reports. It’s as cohesive as it can be, which ultimately is good news for you and for him. The project will be done by tonight. “It is all good now,” he confirms. 

When he glances back at you, you two share the same look - dismal. He knows that the project will end, even the semester is coming to a close soon. But he did not anticipate that your last meeting is today. 

“Alright,” you break the uneasy air as you swat your hand to shoo him away. “Let me work this through so we can completely finish it.” 

He’s not certain whether you’re asking him to leave already since he’s done his part or you’re just making him go back to his own laptop. Not wanting to embarrass himself, he asks, “Should I pack up and leave now?”

You narrow your eyes with displeasure. “Of course not. You’ll stay here until I finish the damn thing, Tsukishima. Don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

He doesn’t complain and remains impassive as you watch him return to his seat. He fights off the grin that was threatening to surface on his lips while he starts doing his requirements for another class.

When you see him comply, you return your attention to wrapping up the project. The truth is you can send him home already. You don’t need his presence to finish the report. You just want to keep him longer, one or two more hours will do. 

Then you longer have any reason to meet with him outside training hours. You’ll finally stop your private meetings along with your clandestine kisses. 

You’ll be back to being solely his manager.

Even though you still have a lot of things to do for another subject, you take your sweet time with what you’re doing. You start typing like an old man whose reading glasses no longer work. Then after you’re done, you conduct a spell check which you normally don’t do because you correct typos as you go along, not after the output is done. 

After an hour of dilly dallying around trying to clean the already clean word file, you reckon it’s time to let it go. 

You look at Tsukishima and softly call his name, “Tsukki.”

He stops typing and faces you. “Done?”

You nod with a faint smile. “Yeah, we’re done.” Done with the project and done with whatever you two had. 

“I already sent it to our professor as well,” you add. 

“I see.” He packs up quietly then stands up to leave. You stand up as well and open the door for him. You stopped opening the door for him when he leaves, but since this is the last, you thought it was fitting that you send him out. 

“Tsukishima.”

He pauses as you say his name, turning his head to face you and waits for what you’re going to say. You don’t really have anything to say though. You just stare at him. And he stares right back, his gaze studying your face carefully until it lands on your mouth. That’s when you figure out why you stopped him from leaving. 

You want a last kiss. 

When you started your agreement, you’ve never been afraid or shy to go for a kiss. Only now. 

“What is it, y/n?” he asks calmly even though his eyes are on your lips. You know he wants the same despite the apathetic demeanor. If not, he wouldn’t be looking at you as he is right now. 

Yet you don’t want to initiate. 

Obviously, neither does he.

It’s kind of stupid. After the countless kisses, none of you moves to instigate the last one. 

You don’t know how long you stare into each other, but since this seems to be going nowhere, you decided to just leave it as is. 

“Good night. I’ll see you in training,” you say instead. 

He seems to have recovered from his own daze as well when he responds with a dry, “Right,” before stepping out of your room.

You close the door behind him with a certain gloom you can’t make sense of. Months ago, you two wanted nothing more than to finish this project. Now that you’re finally free of each other, you feel... sad?

Ridiculous. 

You shake it off and get back to what you’re supposed to be doing. You and Tsukishima had good teamwork. Although he has some rude comments here and there, they usually have no bite to them. Other than that, he was easy to work and hang around with. The liplocking was just a fun perk. Nothing more, nothing less. 

--

You enter the gym and find that not much of the team is there yet. It’s Kogane, Tsukishima, Eiji, and Coach who’s only there.

You put your bag in one of the benches and get your report on the previous match of the team. You walk towards Coach Mira and hand it to her. “Thanks, y/n,” she says with a pleasant smile she doesn’t show to anyone else from the team. “Can you set up the other net?” She asks while going over the report you gave her.

“Yes, Coach,” you answer agreeably then head to the other side of the court. You pull up a stool chair and stand on it as you tie the net to the pole.

“Y/n.”

You’re startled by Tsukishima’s voice behind you that the chair along with your ankles shake when you flinch. You try to grab the pole to steady yourself but you can’t reach it anymore. 

“Shit!” You curse beneath your breath and just accept you’ll flat on your butt. But instead of falling, you feel a pair of huge hands on your waist that thwarts your ass kissing the floor. 

“What are you doing?” You hear Tsukishima ask impertinently as he gently eases you back on the chair. “Do you need help getting down?” he follows up with his hands still on your waist. 

You turn around carefully and place your hands on his shoulders to support yourself as you jump down on your own. You grin at him which is probably why he takes his hands off you. You turn around to tighten the bottom part of the net. 

“Did you need something?” You ask as you continue tying the knot. You finish what you’re supposed to do and he still hasn’t answered so you face him again. 

“What’s up, Tsukki?” You’re a bit confused why he’s silent when he’s the one who came up to you. 

“Can you tape my fingers?” 

The situation reverses and now, you’re the one who’s not responding. Three years as their manager and he’s never asked for help taping his finger. 

“Uhh. Sure. Do you have your bandage with you?”

He gets it from the right pocket of his jacket and gives it to you. You get it and take his right hand to tape it first. Even though this is the first time he’s asked you to do it, you’ve done it before with Coach’s orders. Every single time you do, he has a disgruntled look on his face as he does his best for his eyes not to land on any part of your face. 

But now, you can feel him staring at you while you work on his fingers.

“Something on my face, Tsukishima?” You ask teasingly. 

“Yeah. You still have coffee on your chin,” he answers seriously. 

You stop abruptly and shove the bandage on his palm to hastily wipe your chin. “Is it still there?” You look up to him as you ask.

He presses his lips together before he looks to the side. However, you catch the sligh tug in the corner of his mouth prior to turning away. 

“What? Did I not get it?” You ask a bit worriedly as you try to remember the people you greeted on your way here. You beamed cheerfully at them and all this time, you had a smidge of coffee on your chin.

 His shoulders start shaking and you can hear his suppressed laughter as he’s turned away from you. 

You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

He returns his gaze at you with an entertained smirk. “If you stopped drinking coffee like it’s water then maybe you wouldn’t fall for such a simple ploy.”

You give him a sarcastic smile as you yank his hand to continue taping him. “Real mature, Tsukishima,” you remark dryly.

“You’re one to talk,” he instantly counters. 

You snort and shake your head amusedly. In the past, you’d think it’s an insult, but at present, you can tell that it’s just benign banter.

While you tape his hands, there’s comfortable silence between you two that you only feel when you’re seated beside each other when you’re doing the project. You didn’t expect you’d feel it again even when you’re in the gym with other people around.

You’re almost done with his left hand when you hear Coach Mira call you. “Coming, Coach!” you yell from where you are and finish the tape on his middle finger. 

“And it’s done,” you grin briefly at him then turn to where Coach is.

Before you go, you hear him utter a low, “Thanks.”

A faint smile forms on your face as you saunter back to Coach. When you reach her, she frowns a bit at you. 

Your smile disappears, thinking that you made some error that Coach caught after you submitted it to her. “What’s wrong, Coach? Is something off with the report?” You ask a bit troubled. 

“No. It’s perfect as usual,” she remarks commendably. 

You ease up knowing that your write up is still quintessential. “What else can I do to help?” Since there’s nothing wrong with the report, she must need help for another task. 

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you’re dating Tsukishima.”

Now you wish there’s something wrong with the file you submitted instead. You’d prefer that than having Coach suspect there’s something like that between you and Tsukishima. 

Nothing’s going on with you two except for the project you had together. Usually, you don’t give a shit what other people think of you. But not Coach.  You don’t feel comfortable that she is dubious of your relationship with the blonde middle blocker. 

“What made you ask, Coach?” you ask, wondering where she got the idea.

“You two seem more.. I don’t know,” she struggles for the next words while you wait anxiously for it. “more at ease with each other now,” she continues.

You feign a laugh and respond casually. “I’m just messing with him as usual,” you lie because it’s the other way around. 

Coach glances back at Tsukishima then at you. “He looks like he’s enjoying it this time though. He’s even staring at you when I called you here.”

You turn your head his way and see him practicing his serve already. You face Coach again and smile bemusedly. “I wonder why.” You really have no idea why he was staring. 

Coach studies your face for a few seconds then shrugs. “Alright. I’ll let you get back to work instead of being a nosy middle-aged woman,” she smiles at you then returns to the report you gave her.

You nod politely then turn around to go to the stockroom. When you’re almost there, you glance discreetly to Tsukishima and reflect on Coach Mira’s suspicion.

Does it really seem like you have that relationship with him?

--

You thought of doing your uni requirements in the library today for a new work setting. As you’re approaching the entrance of the library, you open your bag to get your ID. 

Several minutes of rummaging your bag and you still can’t find it. 

Shit! Did you lose it?

The last time you actually saw it when you used it to enter the bar. Did you drop it from your pocket? But you put it in your back pocket so you won’t accidentally lose it when you get your phone.

You close your bag and try to remember the whole night. Who were the people you talked to? 

A lot. You talked to a lot of people but you really had no reason to take your ID out. 

You can only think of two possible ways you lost it. First was in the cab with Tsukishima. You shifted too much on your seat that it may have slid out of your back pocket. Second would be in their restroom where you changed clothes. 

You get your phone and text Tsukishima. 

‘Tsukki! By any chance, did I leave my id there or sumthin? >_<’

Tsukishima hears his message tone as he descends their stairs. He waits until he reaches their couch and then opens his phone to read the message. 

ID? Did you lose it?

Even if you did, you shouldn’t be too worried since it’s almost graduation. You won’t need it anymore. 

He types in his reply. 

‘Why bother finding it? You won’t need it soon.’

“Kei.” 

He lifts his gaze from his phone before sending it when he hears his brother’s voice. “What is it?” he asks. 

Akiteru sits on the other couch adjacent to the one he’s sitting on. “Any plans after graduation?”

He’d feel pressured and irritated from the question if it was asked by someone else. “I have an interview at the Sendai Museum next week,” he answers blankly despite feeling a bit certain of applying for the post. 

“I didn’t know you were already looking for a job. That’s great though!” Akiteru comments brightly.

“Yeah,” he answers lowly then looks down on his phone again. “Alright, then. I was just curious.” His brother smiles caringly then stands up. 

“Nii-san,” he calls before Akiteru leaves the room. 

“Yes?” His brother looks at him still smiling.

“Did you see an ID that’s not mine around?” he asks ambiguously because he doesn’t want to mention your name on the high chance that Akiteru hadn’t seen it. His older brother has bugged him about it non-stop after you took him home last week. He doesn’t want to remind Akiteru about it unnecessarily.  

“Silly me! I forgot to tell you. The other day, mom saw y/n’s university ID in the washing machine when she was hanging clothes. She gave it to me because you were still not home then. I’ll give it to you in your room later,” Akiteru grins widely then waves at him before heading up the stairs.

He’s relieved that he heard no more than that. He was honestly expecting more teasing, but fortunately, his brother seems to have toned it down now.

He gets to his phone again and types instead. 

‘Yeah. It’s here.’

Not more than a minute later, he receives your response already. 

‘Can u bring it in class or training? :D’

He easily types ‘Okay’ since it’s just a small favor. Then when he’s about to send it, his thumb hovers above the send button. 

He deletes it and sends a different reply.

‘No.’

You frown when you read his response. You thought he’s somehow warmed up at you already but seems like he’s back to being a salty ass. It’s just an ID. It weighs like nothing and can fit in his pocket. What’s the deal?

You’re drafting your reply when he sends another text message.

You quickly tap the notification that briefly flashed on top of your screen and raise your brows when you completely read it. 

‘Get it yourself. It’s in my room.’

After a few seconds, you shake your head and chuckle at what he meant with his superficially rude message. 

Tsukishima, you smooth tsundere bastard.

Part 7 || Part 9 || masterlist

Taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

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[random-french-girl]

Okey so I don't know the name of the friendship thing you do, maybe BroTP game or whatever that's called.

Also I don't know the rules (sorry, I'm not American and English is not my native language) But I loved Scylla x Tally one so can I ask for Scylla and Abigail one? Like they act like they hate each other but we all know that's the first step of them being best friends.

Anyways, thanks in advance. And please excuse my poor English.

Thank you, dear Anon! And please, never apologize for your English! I'm not a native speaker either :)

What in-jokes do they have with each other?

I don’t think they have in-jokes, unless you count “playfully insulting each other every chance we get to show our affection”. 

Are they the “I’ll pay this time if you pay next time”-type friends, or the “I’ll pay for my food and you’ll pay for yours”-type friends?

Ordinarily, Scylla wouldn't care, but Abigail activates her ego and her stubbornness Big Time, so she always insists on paying, or sharing the bill. Abigail's just like: "Don't be ridiculous." They argue for a while, Abigail usually ends up winning this particular fight, Scylla is very grumpy about it.

Who’s more prone to pranking, or otherwise messing with, the other?

Pranks, neither. Messing with each other? Both of them. Constantly.

How do they text/message each other? Proper punctuation and capital letters, egregious overuse of emojis, mostly in meme format…?

Not applicable! But I know, in my heart, that if she could Scylla would use only emojis, just to annoy Abigail. And it would work.

Do they exchange jokey birthday presents, or deeply thought-out and meaningful presents? Or both?

Only jokey, vaguely insulting gifts for a while (Abigail buys Scylla a book that’s called “Ethics for Dummies” or something. Scylla gives her a list of all accredited therapists in the area with a note that just says “first one’s on me <3″.) But then eventually they start giving each other real presents - very little things, but it’s nice. Abigail give Scylla a tiny succulent. Scylla gives her a box of fancy chocolates. They’re never going to be effusive in their gift-giving, but they Know each other enough to understand these small gestures mean a lot. 

They go on a road trip together. Who drives, who picks the music, who’s in charge of snacks?

They are insufferable on a road trip together. They can't agree on anything: not the directions, not who should drive, or when to stop, or what music to play, or the snacks. It’s either five hours of Tense Angry Silence, or five hours of Constant Bickering. They only behave if Raelle’s is the car with them. 

What do they think of each other’s family?

Oof, loaded question. Abigail has trouble, still, respecting Dodgers (but she’s getting there). Scylla still feels resentful of the Bellweather name (but she trusts Abigail, and respects Petra a bit more than she used to, and she’s also getting there). They’ve spent their childhood being told to despise everything about each other’s family, so it’s. Complicated. 

Do they have any nicknames for each other?

DO THEY EVER. The funniest thing is it starts as “necro” (derogatory) but now it’s “necro” (affectionate), and they won’t admit it, but everyone knows.

Who’d be the first to try and patch things up if they had a fight?

The real answer is: neither. Raelle and Tally stage an intervention and force them both to apologize and move on.

One of their phones goes off in the middle of the night. Who’s calling whom, and why?

Not really applicable.

What’s their favourite funny story about something that happened to the two of them?

They love the fact that they tried to kill each other that one time. It’s funny in retrospect, they promise.

Would they do a joint cosplay? If so, who would they dress up as?

NOPE.

Do they have any TV shows that they watch together? Are there any shows they have wildly different opinions on?

Not really. 

Which one is the “fight me” friend and which one is the one who tries to keep the peace and prevent their friend from punching a total stranger?

Abigail is the “fight me” friend, and Scylla has to be the voice of reason, a role she is NOT used to. Also they’re the kind of friends who’re like... if somebody else insults the other, or starts a fight, they’ll lose it. “Only I get to be mean to her!”

One of them comes up with an ill-advised but mostly harmless idea. Does the other one egg them on because they think it’ll be funny, or try and talk them out of it?

Scylla has terrible ideas, historically. Abigail would never try to talk her out of it, because where’s the fun in that?

Who would win if they arm-wrestled?

LOL Abigail, without a doubt.

Who’s better at what type of video games, and how competitive are they when they play together?

Abigail is very competitive. Scylla pretends she’s not, but she actually is. They both suck at video games cause they never played much, unfortunately.

One of them ends up in hospital for something serious but not life-threatening. What does the other bring along when they visit in order to cheer them up?

Abigail... brings Raelle to Scylla’s hospital room. Gives Scylla a little nod, that manages to convey “I know you need her more than anything else” and “I’m glad you’re okay”. And then promptly gets out.

How huggy are they?

Oh, not huggy at all. Except that one time they almost die, and Scylla just impulsively grabs Abigail, and hugs her, very tight, and Abigail is frozen for half a second before she reciprocates the hug, gingerly. They don’t move for a while. They never talk about it afterwards,  

What was the moment when they first realized that they’d become friends?

IT HAS NOT HAPPENED YET BUT SEASON 3 I’M COUNTING ON YOU.

[brattyfics]

Cape Disappointment | Part One

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Black!OC [Chantel Williams]

Summary: Miguel doesn’t rescue a damsel in distress because Chantel Williams is not a damsel in distress.

Warnings: None yet.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things. Quirky, witty, sarcastic. Condescending, impulsive, sometimes even chaotic. She could be all those things and more, but she refused to be anyone’s victim.

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m not a damsel in distress…” She chanted over and over in a low tone. 

On the side of a low traffic road, snow raining down on her head, Chantel willed the words to be true. Unfortunately, she remembered very little of what her Papa taught her about cars, eyeing the confusing parts under the hood with frustration.

Papa was a school teacher but he worked as a shade tree mechanic on the weekends to be able to afford dance classes for little Chantel. Teaching was his passion through and through. He would talk her ear off in the car on the way to recitals or while she did homework on the bench in his workshop. Being a bratty kid, she learned to tune him out when the topic didn’t interest her and not for the first time she regretted not soaking up more of Papa’s wisdom before he passed. 

If she had, maybe she wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road with no solution in mind. Empty handed and no closer to fixing the car, she shuffled through the snow. It wasn’t much warmer inside the car despite the thick North Face coat she wore with a matching hat and pair of gloves. She was sure she resembled a wet dog as she shook the snow off, not wanting the ice to melt into water droplets that would surely sting. 

Just a week earlier, she’d splurged on the fanciest new smart phone after losing the older model at a dinner party. Even with all its promised features, it was useless. No signal and no nearby WiFi networks to connect to meant she couldn’t call her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend for help even if she wanted to. She couldn’t even call a tow truck! 

Pride. 

Another one of Chantel’s many traits. She liked to think of it as a positive thing. It kept her from being desperate, saved her from being dependent on others for her happiness. No one else seemed to agree her pride was a good thing. 

Among the naysayers was her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend, Adam. Pride was what had led her to take off from the Yurt they shared on their week-long winter break getaway to race back to her industrial loft in the heart of Seattle despite the weather advisory. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she realized her pride didn’t always serve her well. 

If not for her bruised ego, it would have been funny that her car had chosen to break down a few miles north of Cape Disappointment State Park. It was where she had been staying with Adam. The yurt was too far away to walk back to in the snow but still close enough that it only made sense to stay there for the night once the car issues were resolved. She wasn’t looking forward to ending the night with him. 

Remembering Papa’s belief in God showing up when most needed, Chantel sent up a quick prayer. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long for someone else to come down the otherwise deserted road. Winters in Washington were fairly mild so she wouldn’t lose her extremities to hypothermia or anything crazy like that, but she’d certainly suffer by way of the shivers. 

Any sane person was cuddled up next to the fireplace in their cabin with a bowl of chili, or participating in heat-inducing sexual activities in their yurt to keep warm, not on the road driving. It was only natural for her thoughts to snowball into all the types of un-same people she could run into. 

Indigenous women from Washington and Canada went missing far too often on roads just like the one she had so conveniently broken down on. Chantel had a bad habit of researching everything there was to know about topics when they peaked her interest and she knew too much about human trafficking in the area to not feel a considerable amount of fear. 

“That would be my luck.” She muttered meanly to herself, resolving that whatever happened would be her own fault. 

It wasn’t like a whole lot of people would come looking for her anyway. She had a large group of friends in Seattle, but she kind of had a reputation for taking off without saying much. She hadn’t even told anyone about the weekend excursion to Cape Disappointment! The family she had left she wasn’t close to, and by the time Adam realized she hadn’t made it back home it would be too late. 

Yellow headlights bathed the narrow road, the light blinding her the closer it got. Her hazard lights blinked red, signaling that she was broken down, but Chantel second guessed whether she wanted the help. 

“I’m going to be a sex trafficking victim all in the name of independence. Way to go, idiot.” 

Her fingers fumbled around in the gigantic backpack she’d been using as a purse for the weekend, hastily pulling at the zippers until she found what she was looking for. A purple taser she purchased on Amazon for a whopping ten dollars. She doubted it would stop anyone in their tracks, but it was better than nothing. 

It turned out the man who knocked on her window wasn’t an axe wielding serial murdering rapist, or at least he didn’t appear to be. She tucked the small device into her side as the ridiculously handsome middle aged man with a salt and pepper beard smiled at her through the foggy glass. 

He looked harmless enough, sporting a pair of smart designer glasses and what Chantel knew to be a really expensive cashmere turtleneck sweater underneath an equally expensive Canada Goose coat. She wasn’t shy about looking him up and down as she assessed the risk. What if the male model was a decoy?

His neatly manicured eyebrows twisted down in confusion and she thought it was one of the cutest things she had ever seen. 

She rolled down the window with a nervous smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” 

She hated how breathy the words came out but he was truly stunning. 

Tall, fit, well-dressed. 

“Are you alright? It looks like you’re having some trouble.” 

A gentleman.

“What would make you think that?” Chantel spoke before she thought it through, but the stranger didn’t seem to take offense if the amused smirk on his face could be trusted. “I’m kidding. Yeah, no. I’m not alright. The car was making weird noises so I pulled over and now it won’t turn back on. I looked under the hood but I have no idea what’s wrong.”

He nodded attentively while she spoke, watching her lips with interest. She noticed him staring and licked them.

“I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be.” His bronze skin reddened with the admission and she wondered if he was blushing or if the cold was getting to him. “I don’t know anything about cars but I can give you a ride wherever you want.”

She’d like a ride alright. In his cushiony truck that may as well have been a royal carriage considering the circumstances. Or on his handsome bearded face that she couldn’t stop staring at. 

Chantel wondered if he could tell what she was thinking. 

Movement caught her eye and she noticed an identical black SUV pulling off the road to park behind the one Prince Charming departed from. Her hand squeezed around the taser instinctively. 

Was the sexy stranger bait to catch naive, unsuspecting girls? 

“...but I’m sure we’d both rather leave it to the professionals.” He gestured back towards the dark truck and paused, noticing they weren’t alone. Her breath caught in her chest when four bulking men slammed their doors shut and started walking in their direction.

“I apologize. That’s my security team. I left without telling them.” 

Hmm. A kindred spirit. 

Who was he to have a security team? Was he telling the truth? Or just stalling? 

She wanted to believe him. To trust that it was in human nature to help one another without some ulterior, sinister motive. 

Did she even have a choice? How long would she have to wait on the next passerby? There was no guarantee they would be any better than the (so far) kind stranger and his friends.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things, but she was not naïve. With surprising coordination, she swung the door open, knocking the man back several steps. Her boots crunched as she landed in the snow. 

“Back up or I’m going to tase you!” She warned, putting space between herself and the stranger while keeping an eye on the approaching men. 

The corners of his mouth turned up as he fought back a smile. 

Chantel scoffed. He wasn’t taking her seriously. 

“I’m not fucking around!” She insisted, charging up the small device. The buzz felt more powerful than she remembered. The man seemed to think so too, changing his approach. He spoke in a soft tone. “Can we slow down?” 

“Don’t patronize me. Just back up like I said. No, this way!” She ordered until he stood across from her with his back to his men. 

Behind him, they speed up their approach but they could only move so fast in the snow. Following her gaze, the strange man looked over his shoulder and gestured for the men to stall at the front of his truck several feet away. One of them shouted at her to put the taser away from his position. He sported two braids and a cut in his brow. Chantel shouted back at him to ‘shut the fuck up’

Mr. GQ gave another signal and like he was the conductor of an orchestra, all noise ceased. Well, all external noise at least. Chantel swore she could hear the sound of her heart ringing in her ears. 

“Hey!” He demanded her full attention. His hands were up in a defensive position. “What are you looking for here?” 

It was a great question but she had no answer for him.

Trouble maker. Fire starter. Full-time agitator.

Chantel was that way even as a child, responding to normal adolescent teasing with violence. Sharp bites in the classroom or royal rumble style fights on the playground were her specialty in grade school. She made anyone stupid enough to provoke her regret it whether big or small, male or female. That wasn’t to say she was organized or calculating in her plans. She acted and dealt with things as they came. 

She had no idea what the endgame was when she pulled the taser, but she had to stick with it. The crowd of onlookers made her feel more justified in her rash decision.

“I don’t think you really want to hurt me.”

“Now, what would make you think that?” Chantel asked incredulously. He didn’t know her from Eve. 

She was even more steadfast in pointing the taser in his direction but he didn’t seem phased.

“When you want to hurt somebody, you don’t wait around or warn them. You just do it.”

“Are you suggesting I should’ve tased you?”

He shrugged as if they were discussing the weather.

“That certainly would have been more effective.”

Was he serious?

“I mean I still can. If you keep talking I just might.”

He had the gall to laugh in her face. 

Hysterically. 

And it wasn’t fleeting or sarcastic. It was genuine laughter from deep down in his gut. She hated how beautiful he was, even in the middle of showing blatant disrespect for her ability to harm him. 

“Seriously?” She griped, fighting against the way her face muscles twitched. 

Giggle box.

When somebody at church mispronounced a word during the announcements or when her aunt murdered a hit song, she giggled uncontrollably. Papa chastised her for it, but it couldn’t be helped. When the urge struck and she got that itch in her throat, she had to laugh.

So naturally, like two birds of a maniac feather they shared a laugh in four (and counting) inches of snow.

***

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus

MIGUEL TAGLIST

@thesandbeneathmytoes @taylortheeshowpony

[slashingdisneypasta]

Edward Nygma (Pre Riddler) x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Blind Double Date

Plot: 

You and your friend Mia have decided to have a sort of blind double date thing together where you find a date for her and she finds one for you. You’ve decided to ask Ed; The harmless, cute forensics guy at work.

Warnings: FULL FLUFF

~~~

“Good morning Ed!” As you walk into the forensics lab, you quickly find your target in the corner eating his breakfast with gloves and his goggles on. An amused smile struggles to find its place on your mouth but you try to hide it- funny guy, Ed is.

But that doesn’t mean theirs anything wrong with him. You honestly have never understood why anyone would bully him- all he does is his job! And he bares riddles, too! What’s not to appreciate? You happen to like listening to his riddles and giving them a go, even if most of the time the answer evades you. It still tickles you when he tells you, and it makes him happy to get to ask them, too.

Plus, he isn’t bad to look at, and he’s very sweet.

Which is why you’ve chosen him to ask as Mia’s date tonight. Yes tonight. You’ve left it, in pure homework-style, to the last minute to find a guy and ask him. But you’re pretty sure she’s done the same thing, so you don’t feel too bad. You just hope you can butter Ed up enough that he says yes!

“Good morning Miss L/N.” Ed smiles, giving a little waive as he sets his McMuffin back down on a little plate of glad wrap on the corner bench so he can talk to you.

You’re aware of his unfortunate feelings for Kristen -unfortunate because she doesn’t share these feelings, -, which of course could prove an obstacle… but like you said! You plan to butter him up plenty before popping the question. “Any riddles today?”

He beams. “Yes, I do, in fact. Would you like to hear it?”

“’Course!”

“If you drop me, I’m sure to crack. But, smile at me and I’ll be sure to smile back. What am I?”

With only a moment of thought, you set your fists on your hips and peer up at him with a good, humoured stink eye, squaring up to the beanpole. “Ed, are you dumbing down your riddles for me? A mirror!” A tiny grin tugs at the corners on his mouth, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Figured you prefer to get them right.”

“Psh.” You roll your eyes, grin stretching into something wider. Then you cross your arms and lean forward. “I have one for you, now.”

“Oh, really?” He looks a little excited, and its adorable especially behind the goggles he’s still wearing. You resist the urge to giggle, though, and nod. “Fire away, then.”

“Okay, hold on, let me remember.” Pausing a moment, you look at the counter to remember the words. You have to get this right, to provide the perfect jumping off point for asking him out. “Okay, you see a boat filled with people, yet there isn’t a single person on the boat. How is it possible?”

Ed’s eyes shine and you know he’s heard it before; His eye sonly look like that when he’s about to give the right answer and feel smart doing it. Taking off the goggles and replacing his glasses over his eyes, he grins. “All the people are married couples.”

“Exactly, and Ed! Wouldn’t you like to be one of those people?” I’m going for it. No need to be shy- shoot your shot like a used car salesperson.

Immediately, the forensics guy looks completely flabbergasted and he stutters like he really is confused, for once. “What- what??”

Having the humility and poise to look a little moor mellow, you lean my lower back on one of the benches stretching across the wall and focus on the table in the middle of the room. You’ve seen many, many dead bodies on this table. “Well, my friend Mia and I are setting up a sort of… blind double date, I guess. She’s finding someone for me, and I’m looking for a guy for her and we’re gonna go out as a group. Safer than online dating, right? Well I was looking around the precinct for a guy, and… “ Turning to look across your shoulder and up at Ed, who looks curious but still hesitant-and ready to be more hesitant, - , you set him with a mischievous look. “Ed. Edward.”

“This doesn’t sound like a good idea… “He starts to refuse, looking away from you and back at his McMuffin, but you’re not giving up that easily. You haven’t put all your cards down on the table yet! But still, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you know this isn’t his thing, so you force yourself to stay in one spot and not look too desperate. Which, quite honestly, you are. The date is tonight!! You’ll end up having to take Harvey, and as sexy as he is, he isn’t your friend’s type.

“Ed, you’re perfect! Safe, for one; You’re a sweetie. And that’s not something I can for sure say about whoever Mia’s got for me- she works at the paper. And Mia loves riddles!” Well, ‘love’ might be a stretch, but she does have an appreciation for them like you. “And you’re the best-looking guy in the precinct.”

That seems to shock him, and he looks up again to blink behind his glasses. “What?”

“Well, yeah.” You shrug; Is it a secret? Dark hair, dark eyes, tall- what is not to like, here? “I mean, you’re on parr with Gordon, but that guy’s damn near married!” You grin, biting your bottom lip as you continue to look across the room rather then at Ed- but then turn and wink at him. “Besides, I like you better. Would much rather spend a night hanging with you then with Jimmy, he’s a bit of a workaholic you know?” Smiling genuinely, you give him an almost-awkward thumb up.

“Uhh… “Hesitant and full-awkward, Ed actually looks to be thinking about it now, looking away from your gaze once again. You don’t mind if he doesn’t keep eye contact- makes you feel like you’re being interrogated when the cops around here do that. Very weird. “I’m- I’m not sure. I’m not… very good… with the opposite sex… “

“You’re great with me!” You exclaim encouragingly, watching a tiny flicker of a grin pass over his lips as he looks down at the ground. “Come on, I’ll be there with you the whole time. Unless of course my date goes really well,” He looks up and you wink, grinning cheekily. Then an idea occurs to you, and you gasp. “I’ll even come over a bit early and help you prepare!”

Letting him think to himself for a couple minutes while you get out your phone and check for messages and periodically watch the door for other cops and forensics people. Finally, Ed lets out a deep breath and turns to face you again. You hold your breath, chewing on your bottom lip. “… Okay. I’ll go with you and Mia on this date. But you have to come over before.”

You let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Ed! Sure thing. I’ll see you at yours at 6, the dates at 7. I’ll get your information outta the database- thank you so much Ed!” With a quick hug, and one last smile, you leave him back to his breakfast. “Enjoy your brecky and have a good day Ed! See ya!”

Ed just smiles a little smile, watching you leave before switching his glasses for the goggles again and goes to continue his breakfast. “I wonder… did I say yes for the right reasons?”

Through the corner of his eye, he catches his reflection grin smugly and shake his head.

He tries to ignore it.

~~~TIME SKIP: Later that day, at Ed’s apartment~~~

When Ed had answered the door in a plain t-shirt and sweat pants, you had been worried for half a second that he had changed his mind and that you had forced him to say yes to something he didn’t want to do, but then he quickly explained that he didn’t know what to wear.

Which was such an easy issue to remedy!

“There!” You exclaim when he comes out of the bathroom in the outfit you two came to an agreement on. You’re sitting on the end of his bed, munching on pretzels and smile encouragingly at your friend. “You clean up even nicer, Ed.”

“Thank you… “Grinning with pride, like a bird ruffling his feathers, Ed looks once more at his reflection and flattens out his emerald tie-his favourite colour, as you’ve come to realise. Its all over his apartment, and his wardrobe, - then he comes over to sit beside you and tie up his shoes. “Uh- Miss L/N, question? If you don’t mind.”

Swallowing 3 more little pretzels and picking out 2 more, eating like a marathon runner… if by running one meant eating. “Fire away.” Still bent over his knees tying up his laces, Ed does so.

“Why are you eating? I thought we were meeting up with the others for dinner.”

Waiting to finish the latest 2 pretzels, you cover your mouth and look embarrassed as you chew away quickly so you can reply. When you’re done, you laugh nervously and set the bag down in your lap. “Oh. Haha. I don’t want y’all to see me gorging myself when we’re out. Also, if I’m too full when I’m there to buy an actual meal, I save money on a potentially terrible date by just buying a bowl of chips or something. On the 3rd date, I might buy myself a proper meal.”

Ed sits up, setting his hands on his knees. “I don’t think anyone would mind seeing you eat properly, Miss L/N.”

“Uh… yeah, I don’t really think so either… Hah, but, I’m still a lil’ insecure you know?” Its nothing to be embarrassed about- you’re insecure! Everyone is about something. Besides, Ed’s easy to talk to. You know he wont judge you. Picking out another pretzel, you pop it in your mouth and enjoy the salty taste, offering Ed the bag in case he wants some.

“Oh, thank you.” He’s temporarily distracted from your confession by the snack, making your grin at how cute he is as he politely takes a singular pretzel. For a moment, you two just sit there and eat in companionable silence, and its nice. You look at him for a second, in his date pants and sweater, before looking around his apartment. Its pretty nice, you have to say. A little grungy looking, but in a fashionable way unlike the rest of Gotham. You can imagine the sporadic helicopter search lights that are normal in Gotham city probably look really cool flashing in through the full wall of windows. “Well I have leftover potatoes from my dinner last night that I could have now,” Ed finally wonders out loud, and when you look at him he’s ready to get up and go get them. Quickly, you put a hand on his arm to stop him, causing him to look over at you and wait for an explanation.

“Oh, Ed! No, I didn’t mean you had to as well!”

“But if it’s considered impolite to eat on a first date- “

“No! Ed, that’s just my silly thing. Mia and the other guy’ll eat like King’s. I promise you.” Encouragingly, and half apologetically, you squeeze his arm. “You need to eat a proper meal. As your friend, I won’t have it any other way.” You say the last part sternly.

“Hah. Well in that case I have to insist that you, Miss Y/N, have the same.”

Your jaw drops when Ed takes your bag of pretzels, zips it up again and gets up to put them away in the kitchen. Watching with wide eyes and a disbelieving smile on your face, you see him use his height as a weapon, get on his tip toes and put the bag away in the back of a top shelf. When he turns around, he grins evilly at you. You throw one right back at him, albeit less superior and put your fists on your hips. “Edward Nygma!”

He finds his place sitting next you again, this time a little closer and facing you, leaning on his hands that are on the bed between you so he’s sort of leaning toward you as well. For a second, you suffer a small heart fluttering stroke, but quickly push it aside and sigh in surrender, rolling your eyes. You look forward again, then turn back and smile at him.

“Do you have another riddle for me before we get going?”

Maybe you’re putting off leaving this apartment. A little.

His eyes shine, like they always do when you ask him for a riddle. “Of course, I do. What question can you never say yes to?”

“Ed!” You exclaim immediately, exasperated. “Another easy one! We’re gonna have to have a conversation about my IQ, sir. I assure you it’s larger than what you give me credit for.”

“I don’t doubt that Miss L/N.” He smiles, a bit bigger than his usual little grin. “I just like how happy you get when you can answer a riddle correctly- Don’t worry, I’ll adjust my criteria for riddles for you to make them more challenging from now on.”

How… how can he be so bluntly sweet and not even realise it?

Sighing deeply in frustration at yourself, you look away from Ed’s handsome, sweet, smart self and momentarily hate yourself. Sorry Mia. I can’t do this. “Oh Ed… I’ve made an awful mistake.”

“Oh?” He adjusts his glasses, confused. ���About what?”

“Uhh… “Time to escape!! Go home!! Contemplate your total and utter hopelessness and misery on your own, Y/N! You get up from the bed and pick up your bag and your coat, backing up to the door out of Ed’s apartment. He gets up to follow you, but you hold out a hand and gesture for him to sit back down. “I just can’t go out tonight. I have, uh, cramps. So, um… I’m really sorry for ruining your night!” Bumping into the door, you whip your head around to look at it and flash a nervous smile back at Ed before turning to it. “So sorry… “What is wrong with you, Y/N?

“Miss L/N!”

Before you know it, Ed’s crossed the room and basically trapped you between him and the door. For a second, apology and nerves cross his features but then he moves on. “Miss L/N, are you okay? I, I can make you some herbal tea to help soothe- “

“No, no, Ed, its okay. I just need to sleep- “

“Y/N.” His eyes darken unbelievably for a second and the forceful way his voice bends around your name, your first name, causes you to stop talking and look properly at him again, waiting for what he has to say. As quickly as that dark, forceful look came, it gone again though and Ed drops his forward a bit as if exhausted. “Miss L/N forgive me for my vigour. Um, I just… I wanted to say… uh, before you leave, that um, uh, I… “Your heart lifts as he stutters through gibberish, and you tilt your head to side to try and see his face. “I want to admit something.”

You’re nervous about what he’s going to say. “You don’t have to… “

“I disagree. Um,” He looks up at you again finally, and you see shyness in his eyes, but determination also. “I want to admit, to you, that… my reasons for agreeing to go on this date, were uh… biased. I have little to no interest in your friend Mia, I’m sorry. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

Eyes widening slightly, you watch Ed look down again and take his hands off the wall on either side of your head, letting them sit stiffly at his sides as he looks idly around the room as he waits for a response. Because of this, he misses the way your lips turn up in a smile. Relief washes over you, and happiness. He likes you, too!

“Uh, Ed?” You whisper, leaning back on the door now. You’re not leaving. “Look at me?”

“Yes?” He looks at you again, finding your eyes and your smile and breathing in deeply at the sight, surprised. Relieved.

After a moment, you give in to the urges that have only become stronger today then they ever were before - in fact, before today you didn’t even know they were there. But now you can safely identify all those weird smile you couldn’t help when you looked at the forensics guy, - , you pull him gently closer to you and lean up, kissing him gently on the lips.

Almost instantly, this boy presses closer so you’re on the door again between it and his, kissing you back tenderly so when you stop, there are bright beams on both your faces. Grinning, you adjust your grip on his sweater. “I think you're going to have to start calling me Y/N, now.” 

“Yeah, that would be appropriate, wouldn't it?” Then Ed’s eyes widen. “I should make you the herbal tea. Your cramps.”

Lying very transparently, you bite the inside of your cheek guilty and tell him “They’re cured.”.

“This is going to be awkward for you to explain to your friend.”

“She’ll live.”

“Do you want to watch some TV with me then?”

“I’d love to.”  

[anonysaurusrexie]

A Scene w/ Chibs

Characters: Filip “Chibs” Telford x reader Summary:  This is my first attempt at fanfic period and this started as smut with a song and it’s ending as fluff. To my credit, I’ve done better RPs. I’m trying my best... may the fanfic gods have mercy on my soul.

Prompts:

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” “Are you going to keep pacing outside my door, or are you coming in?”

mo ghràidh - “my love” in Scots Gaelic

In all the wildest dreams from your girlhood, none of them included falling in with a biker gang. The plan was to move West and try to make something of yourself as a creative. What mattered was leaving everything you knew behind and making it big so you could rub in the face of everyone back home. Call it part fresh start, call it part wishful thinking... somewhere along the way your dreams broke down alongside the shitbox that carried you cross country. It was a matter of coincidence that that your luck ran out in the lot of Teller-Morrow... and often enough for Gemma to take a real shining to you while lost in conversation while the boys tried to save a car that wanted to die. The universe has a funny way of putting you right where you need to be, don’t it?

You had caught the eye of the haggard faced mechanic stealing glances whenever he’d pass by the window that separated the office from the garage. Gemma would dismiss his glances with a shut of the blinds to the garage bay, reassuring you Chibs was harmless. As her invitation to one party turned into more, you discovered a grain of truth in her words beneath the veneer tht protected the finer aspects of club business from outsiders. Of the brothers you had befriended, his mannerisms were never untoward and he had the air of a gentleman behind those scars in his dealings with you, just... with your looks? Being ogled either opened the door to heartbreak or to something scarier. It was much easier to present yourself with a face of stone and hoped it was enough to shrink you to the point you weren’t taking up space on anybody’s radar. 

Yet Chibs' patience matched his persistence and with time, you found his brogue and charm irresistible. No longer could you be mistaken for a croweater or sweet butt, the two of you were an item, untouchable by the rest of the club. Though you loathed how cheesy it sounded in your head, it had begun to feel like having the other half to make you whole with him at your side or in your bed. But whether it was business that got in the way or things didn't work out, it felt like falling apart as quickly as you came together. 

You kept your word to remain amicable after your separation. What other choice did you have being a constant due to your friendship with the Queen of SAMCRO? It didn't make seeing him any easier when you could still feel the tension between the two of you. To come to the parties at Teller-Morrow and see the Sons while the wounds of your break-up were still fresh were almost your undoing. It would seem your old flame shared a similar feeling. His disappearing act when you arrived turned to stares of longing from across the room until you found your place behind the bar pouring shots and serving up pints. What should have brought relief from the six-foot-tall, couple-hundred pound gorilla in the room made you ill at ease each time your eyes met. You had seen him in the arms of a croweater on occasion but the look in those dark brown pools spoke to something more going on beneath the surface until during one drunken night of revelry... you had no choice but to slip from behind the bar when he wasn’t looking and disappear further into the clubhouse.

Letting the door to the stockroom slam shut behind you, you squeezed your eyes shut and ran your fingers through your hair as you tried to clear your head. The darkness behind your eyelids was enough to calm the storm of emotion brewing in your head. Had breaking up with Chibs been a mistake? Did he still want you? Was it possible you still wanted him? You dragged your hands down your face before you took a deep breath from your nostrils and let it out hiss from between your lips. Only a moment or two later, you could hear the heavy thudding of boots trailing down the hallway. One door opened after another, the footsteps shuffling at times... those boots belonged to an inebriated owner- that much was for certain. But did you want to leave your sanctuary and discover who those steps belonged to?

"Lass, are ye alright in there?" The drunken slur of Chibs trickled through the door to your ears, the breath you weren't aware you were holding in escaping in a huff. "Cannae hear what you said, dove... ye left the bar quick, I was afraid I upset ye." 

You hesitated as you looked at the door and ran over a thousand possible responses in your head before staying quiet. Chibs began to pace as he awaited a response, steps trailing from one side of the door to the other... and, after a brief pause, beginning his trek anew.  Seconds turned into what felt like hours with the wooden door between the two of you before you couldn't take it.

“Are you going to keep pacing outside my door, or are you coming in?”

"Wha', lass?"

"I said are you going to keep pacing or are you going to come in?" “Oh,” Chibs mumbled drunkenly before you heard his hand press on the doorknob, twisting before he could push the door and make it give way to the woman that waited for him inside.

And just like that... there the two of you were, standing the closest you had been face to face in months. The two of you were speechless as you scanned each other's faces, uncertain of who would make the first move to break the silence between you two. Chibs buried his face into his elbow as he went through a coughing fit, swallowing the lump in his throat as he turned his face reddened from the alcohol he'd been consuming all evening... back to you.

"What was all that back there, lass?" Chibs waved his hand to the door at his back. "Ye were at the bar when I looked down and when I looked back up, all I saw was yer back disappearing down the hallway."

Fuck. He'd seen you leave the bar, even if just in passing.

"I'm... I'm fine, Filip," You said as you dragged your hand down the side of your face. "I needed to step away for a moment to, uh... to check to see if we had anymore beer in the back."

Chibs furrowed his brow, the booze in his system not enough to prevent him from catching you in a lie. Fuck, again.

"Was it because o' me, Y/N?"

The silence presented him with the opportunity to close the distance between the two of you, stopping before the point where he could touch.

"...Y/N, lass."

"Yeah," You stammered as you turned your gaze to the floor, too nervous to look him in the eye until you heard his sharp exhale.

"Letting you go was a mistake, mo ghràidh," Chibs replied as he reached out with trembling hand to caress the curve of your cheek with his knuckles. You could feel your shoulders tremble at his touch, closing your eyes for a moment as how much you'd missed this came back to you. "Filip," You cleared your throat and opened your eyes, casting your gaze at him to catch him flinch at the sound of his name. "The secrets, the fights... the distance between us... I don't know that I can do this again. We made the right choice." "Y/N," Chibs spoke as tears began to bud at the corners of his eyes, his voice cracking. “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you..."

"And I'm tired of wanting things I can't have, Filip... I don't want part of you, I've wanted all of you from the start. What are we going to fix that we haven't already fought over?"

You could feel your chest spasm, drawing a sharp breath through your nostrils as Chibs took you in his arms and pressed his face into your neck.

"Aye, love... I know, I know," Chibs crooned as he stroked your hair while he held you. That tenderness in his touch had been another thing you missed and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to guiltily savor this as you wrapped your arms around his back. "Ye deserve better than me staring across the clubhouse thinking of all the ways I fooked this up... please, come home and let me make this right.”

[youarejesting]

Wild Space

Pairing: Alien!Jimin x Reader Beta: @jung-hoseok-s-airplane​​ Genre: Romance, Angst, Fluff, SFW Rating: 16+ (slight mature themes implied something) Words: 4.6k

Summary: You are on an expedition to explore a new world, the one you encounter is so beautiful and unique but you find the real beauty in its people. Though they are a little different you feel yourself falling in love with culture, their way of life and their cute ears and tails.

“This is unit one we have finally finished docking and are now beginning assembly and exploration of planet B52. It seems this planet's flora are similar to that of earth, none have started to move or eat us which is a bonus.” It took a whole day to land the station so you weren’t as excited to be here as you had previously been. Your team leader cleared their throat disapprovingly which earned him a rolling of your eyes. “I mean none of the participants within the exploration have been consumed to date.”

The wording though correct probably didn’t need to be said with the snobbish tone, but you were feeling particularly sassy. Wanting to get away for a while after being cooped up in the station you picked up your bag full of supplies and headed out.

The air was fresh like dizzyingly so, the place was green and rich with life and you thought if the earth needed time to rejuvenate then this could be the new substitute in that time. But the colours were odd, it really was a new world. The green grass had a pink tinge to it, the oceans were mauve. But it was all deemed safe perfectly so. We humans are smarter and have figured out how to promote the world's health and well-being.

“The temperatures are stable and the solar flares are filtered by the Ozone layers.” Watching one of the two suns ‘set’ was relieving, sure it wasn’t the fore sun but it did cool the air significantly. The fore sun was practically the same distance between earth and our sun with a slight more reddish tone than our bright yellow one. But in this solar system there was a dwarf sun well really it is just a burning planet but it orbits the sun so close, burning just the same but in a vibrant blue. No one could get close enough to test the elements on the dwarf sun that made it burn that colour but it was beautiful.

As one of the suns moved behind the other a beautiful pinkish haze took over the planet giving it a hazy romantic feel. Talk about rose coloured glasses. This transition revealed the neighbouring planet of B52 a large celestial body with rings which in the glow of the afternoon sun were in shades of pink and purple and the planet was a deep lavender.

The astrologists and physicians had both determined that the two planets moved together in harmony and both planets were deemed liveable but they were never going to collide as they equal gravity, each pulling the other at the same intensity. The sky was never the typical sky blue but always a haze of purple, at its lightest it was a soft lilac and at its darkest the sky was a deep byzantium.

Because of this the water on the planet reflected the purple tones and the clearest waters were a mauve but the darkest were a heavy plum. “The fauna is also similar to that of the earth with a few abnormal features, here and there.” You looked upon a small group of tiny animals; they walked on all fours and were fluffy somewhere between a hamster and a cat. They were predominantly ears and eyes, which is probably how they found you, turning and freezing. Big round orbs looking shiny and innocent and with a squeak they were gone.

Being a linguist you didn’t really have anything to do, the crew usually just gave you odd jobs and as of late that job was completing the reports. You were exploring and recording your observations while the others set up the station and greenhouse. The sooner one can grow their own foods the better off for all of you.

You followed what almost looked like a tiny dinosaur that walked slowly to a nearby tree and began eating berries. You had decided you would be useful and started sketching what you see whilst moving about. The ferns moved in the gentle breeze and an almost odd and yet sweet floral scent enveloped you. A river on your left trickling quiet quickly and in the distance you thought you could hear a waterfall.

From the river emerged what looked like an axolotl each foot pulling it onto the red toned grass and shook itself like a dog and you realized it was fluffy. This caused you to giggle, you began drawing the animal while singing softly. When you were done you continued reporting.

In the middle of your ramblings about the health of the planet and such, you heard a rustle behind you. It was odd because when you turned there was nothing there. You were out of earshot so you dropped your professional jargon.

“There seem to be no immediate signs of danger but the crew is working as per protocol for the safety of the team.”

You watched as a flying mouse landed in a tree squeaking and chewing at some sort of fruit it gathered. It was very much the bumble bee dilemma wings too small for the size of its body. It was colourful though like a rainbow lorikeet, it’s tail multicoloured.

“No sign of intelligent life, so far-”

Another rustle behind you accompanied by heavy breathing, you tried to glance around at whatever it was. Looking as far as you could out of your peripheral vision the only feature you caught was a long red tail swishing low, and whatever it was walked on all four legs. You tried to grab your radio but you heard a low rumble from the animal in question. The thing seemed to change shape and moved until it was right behind you mirroring your posture on two legs, its nose pressed to the back of your neck sniffing.

The figure moved around you and you saw it completely. A man, well mostly. He was muscular and lean, he had claw-like nails and teeth that were sharper than a human. On the top of his head were two ears that were peaked and alert. His tail puffed and he growled. In fear of this strange new life especially the fear of being killed caused a tear to roll down your cheek, he circled around you faster and breathed you in.

You stood still as he stepped behind you once more and seemed to brush past your ponytail; it must have startled him as he pulled it firmly, causing you to fall back. He growled at your sudden movement and jumped on top of you baring his teeth over your neck. Unmoving once more you watched him slowly circle your form, he sniffed you here and there licking the side of your boot and you were thankful for the fact he had some sort of fabric over the lower half of his body so you didn’t see anything unnecessary.

His eyes were dark, his hair a vibrant red as were his ears and tail; he was mixed in appearance. You couldn’t determine whether he was canine or feline, he had features from both sides.

Sniffing he nudged your arm burying his nose against the underarm of your shirt. You knew you were sweaty, it’s not like deodorant was a priority on a space trip there was some but not enough to last a whole expedition. And if you know anything about the animal kingdom, smell was what they used to identify each other.

He growled circling you again before curling up beside you and placing his head on your chest watching you as his eyes drifted shut with a heavy sigh. He was beautiful, he reminded you of the exotic people in the avatar movie where those blue aliens were so tall and human-like but just slightly off. He wasn’t blue, but he was very naturally beautiful.

After an hour or two of trying to get out from underneath him you gave up entirely. At another point you accidentally started patting the young man’s head forgetting he was not a sweet domesticated animal despite the ears and tail.

As the fore sun began to set over you, the cold breeze began seeping into your skin and shivers bloomed from within you. The action seemed to wake him, eyes widening as he launched himself away. Backing away, you shared equal expressions of fear. Trying not to move, wanting to appear harmless, he was also unwilling to move. Eyes searching the area for any danger, he saw you shiver again curling up with a small whimper. He looked around calmer as the minutes passed. He said something softly and you raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you said?” you whispered, blinking he made a face. Very slowly you sat up reaching into your pocket to retrieve an apple. He watched you curiously as you took a bite and proceeded to sniff the air. Holding out the apple, he braved getting a little closer to examine what you were eating. He gave it a lick and again before taking a bite.

“What are you?” You asked, he watched you cautiously talking back in his strange language. Clueless to what he was saying you took your time repeating his words and he blinked almost shocked. He sniffed your pocket which you had left unzipped to retrieve the apple and he sniffed getting dangerously close to areas he shouldn’t but he pointed and spoke in his funny language.

“What’s in my pocket?” you pointed at the pocket and he pointed again at the pocket.

You pulled out dehydrated meat and held it up, “Meat” he snatched it sniffing and eating it quickly before reaching into your pocket grabbing the rest. He also found some berries they were almost like ones he was used to but these were so unique.

You sat there as he ate, you tried to talk to him but he was busy eating. Stomach growling signaling dinner time and you looked at the empty bag and frowned.

He noticed the frown of your face and looked at the empty food bag. He held it in his hand and took your hand in his, his claws brushing your skin but not causing you any harm. He pulled you through the woods and turned back as you tripped and stumbled your gait generally slower than his.

You passed a beautiful purple waterfall and the water as it fell reflected a purple glow on the rocks around them and as it splashed a mist of purple sprinkled the air and a typical rainbow prism appeared. You looked down, noticing you were walking on a trail. The flowers on either side were a gorgeous blue that in the shade of some trees seemed bioluminescent. He didn’t seem impressed by your abilities or in this case lack of, and deciding to pick you up over his shoulder and run. He was also unaffected by your added weight, running as he normally would.

He arrived at a small cave, the rock was metallic and each piece reflecting beautifully in the light of the setting sun. He placed you on your feet and you walked towards the stone and touched it brushing your fingers over the smooth arch entrance way.

You knew he must have carved and smoothed this himself, he watched you curiously as you ran your hand along something at the top it almost looked like a form of writing and you traced it slowly and turned to him pointing.

“Jimin,” he said and he patted his chest referring to himself.

“Jimin,” you pointed at the sign and then turned to him stepping closer and placing your hand on his chest over his rapidly beating heart. “Jimin.”

He gave a strange gesture with his hand but his eyes seemed light and his smile told you, you were correct. You slowly and gently took his hand placing it on your chest so he could feel your heartbeat.

“Y/n,” you breathed and his eyes searched yours. You repeated your hand on his chest and said his name before placing it back onto yours “Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he said, his mouth forming the name with a heavy accent.

The moment was broken as voices could be heard talking in the strange language and he pushed you inside the cave walking you deep inside and sat you on something soft. He said something sternly gesturing to the ground with his palm and you nodded as he ran back out.

He was asking you to stay, his body language was pretty clear. And you pulled out your rechargeable lamp, turning it over to turn the large dial underneath. With a satisfied click it turned on, lighting up the space.

With the light you could see every little detail and couldn’t help getting up and exploring. There was an area with stacked wood and sticks and beside it a pit with some ashes and coals in it and you understood it was a fireplace.

Above the fireplace was a hole in the cave again it was man made and impressed you greatly. The craftsmanship of how he made his house and a chimney and everything made you proud.

There were shelves with items wrapped in big leaves and a pile of the strange fabric he wore.

You looked to where he had sat you, it looked like a bed filled with soft iridescent furs. These animals must be magnificent.

You hung the lamp from a rock, your stomach rumbling again. If you remembered correctly there was a small selection of foil sealed food in your backpack.

Shrugging off your backpack you looked to the fire pit, stacking wood you took out your flint and started a fire. It was teal, the flames looking similar to the northern lights. You had a small pot that looked like a metal cereal bowl and you poured the contents into the pot and added some water.

It was a stew and you mixed it up, you didn’t want to seem selfish so you made sure to serve him some in the little metal dish. Hearing footsteps, he entered the cafe sniffing the air curiously.

“Jimin!” You smiled and he lowered his head with a smile. He had started blushing as he placed down handfuls of fruit. You handed him the plate and he watched you eat mimicking the way you used a spoon. He followed your lead scooping the food and blowing on it gently before he put it in his mouth. He hummed his tail flicking back and forth rapidly in excitement at the flavour.

You grew tired and it was late, you wanted to return but you couldn’t and you knew that. Not only because you didn’t know your way back but he seemed to not want anyone to see you. You instead tried to talk to him some more pointing at things and repeating what he would say and he realized you were trying to learn the language of his people.

He helped you and you were able to process so much. The whole reason you were on the trip was for this. You were a linguist and you wanted to learn and decipher their language. You noticed so many things about their language.

You pointed at the soft fur area and he said something that sounded complicated and you tried to say it. His laughter was like soft bells and you tried again, he continued laughing and he kept saying it until he shook his hand. You understood this gesture to mean yes.

He was teaching you so much, you had filled at least five pages of your notebook with new words and information you had learned about him. After an hour or two you had almost figured out the sentence structure and he was amazed.

He was preparing fruit and telling you what you assumed were their names as he handed them to you. He was so sweet, smiling and talking to you, while you were drawing him and his beautiful features.

He turned away looking through the basket of fruit while you packed up and walked over to the furs and laid down curling up. They were soft like silk but warm. You blamed the strict sleep schedule you all had to maintain on the expedition for your inability to stay awake. The crackling embers of the teal fire lulling you to sleep.

You dreamt of B52, but you didn’t dream of it colonised, you dreamt of it exactly how it was, you moved through the soft two toned grass and waded through the mauve waterfall playing when Jimin called your name. He smiled brushing your hair from your face and gently rubbing your ears affectionately.

They weren’t normal human ears, they were like his and you looked down to see his tail had hooked around yours and he leaned in to press his lips to yours when you woke.

Laying in the furs Jimin's body pressed against your back and his arm around you buried in the Furs. Standing you wanted to leave but you knew you couldn't leave without a trace. So you left behind the drawing of him concentrating looking down while he cut fruit.

Sneaking out you used your tracking device to not only mark this location but to also navigate your way back to the station following the trail of flowers until you arrived back.

“Where the hell have you been?” The leader hissed

“I was making friends with the locals,” You said, reaching for your backpack for your notebook.to show them what you had learnt.

“Haha, you are on cleaning duty for a week,” The captain said and you frowned and headed inside. “Grab a shovel, you are turning soil today.”

Ignoring him you walked to the small area inside the green house and began shoveling.

“Seriously though I met them, well one of them, he was super nice.” You tried to explain to your friend but she laughed looking at you like you were crazy.

“Did you eat something you shouldn’t have, breathed in pollen from a poisonous flower?” She turned to look at you “Bitten by a space tick, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“I am perfectly sane Namsoon and I am telling the truth,” You breathed, “It was cool they have their own language and they look like us except they have different ears and get this they have tails.”

“That sounds gross,” she blanched at the thought, “like a rat.”

“No, they are beautiful,” you tried to defend him.

“I think you should go rest today, you can help tomorrow” Namsoon took your shovel and turned away and you sighed and headed back to the station. On your way through the corridors to your chambers you passed the kitchen. Pausing in the hall, a big grin spread across your face, you turned around taking out your day’s rations and a small digital camera for photos of the planet turned back to the station entrance. Slipping into the woods wanting to find Jimin.

You arrived at his cave, thanking your forward thinking for marking the location on your navigation device. Entering it was quiet and he wasn’t there, you sat on his bed lying down staring at the roof.

You were working on the vocabulary when he came back in growling. He pounced on you his ears and tail puffed and teeth bared. He froze when he noticed it was you again and you were wide-eyed staring at him.

“Annyeong haseyo.” He smiled down at you, trapped below him, he was drenched and his hair was dripping water onto your face.

“Annyeong haseyo,” you grinned back, he beamed, flicking his hand in approval and he sniffed you, you spoke in english even though you knew he couldn’t understand “I went back to the station, does it smell weird?”

His nose tickled your neck and he paused catching a familiar scent and traveling down your body. You blushed as he got awfully close to certain private areas but he detoured to the pants pocket and tried to get the Jerky from your pocket.

“Meat,” he said and he used his claws but it not only ripped the pocket open but also scratched your leg causing you to call out in pain. He snatched the meat and was chewing happily. You frowned seeing the blood stain your light grey pants.

Opening your backpack and pulling out your little first aid kit. Trying to calm your heart, you knew he didn’t mean it but it scared you how wild he was.

You pulled the side of your pants down to reveal the area he had clawed on your thigh and you hissed at the sight. He turned confused by your noise and saw the cut, his smile fell and he lowered his head watching you.

He got closer looking at the wound and then at his hands, Nose scrunching at the smell of the paste you put on the wound. He stormed out of the cave, you continued to clean and dress the wound, you readjusted your pants and took a needle and thread and began sewing your pant leg. He came back with some fruits and he hung his head carrying washed fruit which he cut and gave to you.

It wasn’t easy to sneak away from the station, but you did almost every day to meet with him. You were so good at his language now you were able to hold conversations with him but he still had to explain a lot of things as best he could.

He liked it when you sang or played music and he would move around the cave with a smile. The two of you went to see the silky iridescent almost cow like creatures. He took you around showing you different flowers your favourite had to be one where he pulled you inside and sat on the leaf with you and the flower curled up around you both and inside it was like a galaxy all spotted with tiny little glowing creatures. They were completely harmless but reminded you of glow worms. He had you to try different foods. It was heaven not eating the bland genetically modified food everyday. That is until he gave you a particular fruit that made you super itchy, you decided to take an antihistamine from your first aid kit and he apologized and the two of you got back to Jimin’s favorite which was a sour fruit.

He took you swimming at the mauve waterfall and you were splashing one another and playing. He got scared when you were underwater for a long time. Diving under the water he grasped you by the waist and swam you up and called for you. “Y/n, gwaenchanha ni?”

He pulled you against the rocks holding you there with his hand on your waist and took your face with his other hand, his eyes burning in worry. You placed one hand over his leaning your cheek into his touch, “Nan gwaenchanha.”

He sighed in relief pressing his forehead to yours and looking down into your eyes. He stole your breath away, you licked your lips trying to keep them from going dry and he noticed the action licking his own. He leaned in slightly and you elongated your torso trying to bring yourself closer to him, his pupils dilated wide.

You felt his lip just touch yours, the two of you hadn’t kissed yet before his ears turned and pulled away grabbing you and pulling you through the water. He pushed you behind the waterfall and pressed his palm to your mouth and made the no gesture with his hand before slipping away.

There was a small group of them and they played and spoke, you watched them interact. They were no different from playful boys or puppies except they were fully grown men. Time passed and he finally got them to leave but you were freezing and wet.

Jimin grabbed you from the water and looked at you all blue and shivering. He picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and raced back to his cave where he started the fire. He turned to see you had removed your clothes and found a spare shirt from your bag you curled up in the furs. He too changed out of sight and laid behind you trying to warm you with his body heat.

It was sweet he wasn’t trying to do anything but keep you warm, however, you knew how it must have looked to the young man who walked in, the deep growl traveling through the cave. Making you stiffen and he sat up and growled back his body crawling over yours protectively and they began arguing. You spoke to him slowly and he looked alarmed that you understood him.

He told you, to leave before you two were caught and someone was hurt. Jimin growled saying he didn’t want you to leave and at that moment you thought maybe he felt the same way as you. With a sigh Jimin agreed to return you in the morning and Taehyung nodded thankful for his defeat before he told you both he would guard the place.

Jimin explained the village were aware of the new people and were sceptical, he also said it was a festival tonight and everyone was in good spirits visiting neighbours. You leaned in pecking his lips with yours and grinning. “Gamsahabnida.”

He sat up looking at his pupils wide with affection.

You woke early and took your sketchbook and the camera. You went to leave and Jimin grabbed your hand a sad look on his face and pressed his hand to your chest. “Y/n. I love Y/n,” he said, he hadn’t remembered much from your lessons of your own language but this phrase was one he practiced well. You asked him to let his leader meet with you and your leader for a discussion, promising your men would come without weapons laughing about how weak your kind were compared.

You passed Taehyung and he sniffed you and began scolding Jimin all you understood was the words bed and you blushed realizing he knew more than you thought. You said goodbye to Taehyung and ran off to the ship.

You showed the captain the pictures and the drawings and explained how they lived peacefully but had things and resources we didn’t. “Jimin will meet me this afternoon and I would like you to meet him with me alone and without a weapon, if you bring a weapon I will actually kill you myself.

Another meeting came to a successful end and you smiled walking over to Taehyung, Jimin, and Namsoon who showed them both videos of earth, every meeting she would show them another video and they were amazed.

“Jimin-ssi,” you called and he turned beaming his ears perking up and tail swishing back and forth he began sniffing your neck and giving an almost purr. It was still unclear if they had more canine or feline features but you didn’t care.

“Why is it everytime you two meet he becomes more and more adorable, doting on you?”

“The pregnancy pheromones?” Namjoon said in english to Namsoon his nose and tail twitching. He learnt English quickly and you exchanged languages and linguistics with each other and each took your time teaching them each other's language. You blushed as Jungkook grinned patting your swollen stomach and handed you a big woven leaf basket full of berries. He was a sweet kid and looked up to Jimin. “We are very domestic people, when one of our own is pregnant we protect them?”

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[awhilde]

stupid

pairings: kaeya (genshin impact) x reader

genre(s): just pure fluff! 

warnings: swearing and minor (tiny) mentions of death. also, it would be advised to play the game ‘genshin impact’ up past adventure rank 10 because there are a few spoilers (?) and mentions of specific scenes. 

word count: 2.6k words

synopsis: in which you can’t stand the stupid ice man that seems to trail after your every move, infuriating with every word that falls from his lips, every curve of his mouth and every tilt of his head. the pure annoyance he gifts you makes your chest ache in exhaustion. i mean, that is the sole reason why your heart is pumping overdrive, right?  

author’s note: this is just a really quick, cheesy and plotless oneshot that i decided to write in under an hour, i think? if i’m being honest, i just wanted to see what my page would look like with something published, but please enjoy regardless! god i’m simping for kaeya even though genshin is literally not an otome game what ?? gave them the right to make him look so good??

a harmless tune twinkles in the city’s atmosphere, sorrowful tales hidden behind the cheer of a folk song and the strum of a harp

you listen, leaning against an open window, letting the gentle breeze tousle your hair behind your ears, drinking in the refreshing sensation of the wind kissing your closed eyes and exposed face. the suffocating atmosphere of the library leaves you as you daydream with the hum of the melody and lose yourself in its rhythm

  the scent of the storm last night taunts your mind of a nostalgic memory, easing the growing beast of worry in your heart

  the thought reminds you of the cause of such worry and you sigh reluctantly, knowing the pile of research notes by your desk wouldn’t sign themselves as you wasted time by this pocket of air, but your limbs are frozen, leisurely leaning against the frame of the window. you allow for time to flow unrestricted past your consciousness for there might not be another opportunity in the near future when you could relax as you did now

  life couldn’t possibly be contained within stress and work. you’d combust if this was the prevailing knowledge, collapsing from overworking your body or perhaps even dying from high blood pressure in your late 20’s which crept closer as time went by

where had your teenage years gone? the thrill of adventure and death?

“something on your mind, name?”

your eyes snap open, body whisking around to face the man that had managed to sneak up to your side without your notice. you recognise the presence beside you long before your eyes had laid upon their figure for they had been your partner in crime for far too long for you not to adapt to his chilly atmosphere

at least he was nice to be around in summer

kaeya, that infuriating ice man that had insisted on growing closer towards you despite the only connection you two shared being the fact that jean enjoyed tormenting you and placing the two of you together in missions

he had made his way to your right, contrasting your position as he leaned his back against the wall whilst you leaned your front torso out the window. suddenly the wind was nothing compared to him. with his arms crossed at his front, he gives you a side-long glance and smirks at your expression

huffing you turn away. “what do you want now, kaeya?” you ask

“what is with this hostility?” he shoots back. “don’t tell me i actually surprised you by being here.”

 your silence was enough of an answer for him to brighten. “wait, for real?”

you groan, cheek in your palm as you continue to close your eyes. “go away, kaeya, if you’re just here to make fun of me. go bother someone else, hasn’t there been a traveller of sorts that’s appeared recently?”

kaeya hums. “yeah, what about them?”

“go send them on a wild goose chase or something. didn’t you do that to the other one that passed by?” this time, you steal a peak at him through one eye. despite this being a small movement, kaeya’s immediately chases your eye.

ah, there’s that stupid sneer of his that you couldn’t stand. the sight was as familiar as the sun’s touch having seen it everywhere; after freezing jean’s feet to the ground when she got “too boring”, when he’d freeze the walls of your office in order to chase you out of the room and when he’d won that stupid game in that one stupid festival when they’d finished a mission early, turning with that exact sneer, his eyes steady and wild on yours as he handed you the first prize gift, not failing to bow as he presented the toy to you. that stupid pink bunny still sat somewhere in your room, not treasured but simply looked after. it wasn’t a significant item to be cherished after all

“i already did.” he had been saying when you zoned out. “i told them there was a mysterious treasure and sent them off. that little thing they had with them was especially keen on getting her small hands on whatever it was. shame there was nothing there to begin with, just another plan to draw out the futoi rats but i would have liked to see what that little thing could do with immense power. eat exotic foods, maybe?”

his eyes dart back to yours when he didn’t receive the response he expected; silence, and turns to face you. your eyes had gone glassy whilst in the process of reminiscing and he knew you were no longer in the present time. he sighs and stands

you catch the movement and snap back to reality, blinking before narrowing your eyes at his stupid face. “you have a look in your eyes.” you observe hesitantly

“and you weren’t paying attention to anything i said.” he retorts. he leans forward with his arms still crossed as if attempting to examine you further. the proximity startles you and you take a step back on instinct

the action makes him raise an eyebrow. “you’re also surprisingly quiet and grumpy today.”

wow you both are so good at stating the very obvious

it was true, despite hating his guts you couldn’t deny the spark of chemistry between the both of him whether it be dancing on the battlefield or even the snarky banter that he oddly seemed to enjoy. in an attempt to cover up where you had lacked, you face the window again. for some reason, it was easier to talk to him when you weren’t confronted with his stupid face. “oh? aren’t you glad i haven’t remarked on that stupid eyepatch you wear yet? unless, of course, you agree completely with what i say about it which, y’know, is the objective truth. it couldn’t possibly have been inherited. and its ugly.”

“nope! just as the title of being a pirate has been passed down in my family generation, so has the need to wear an eyepatch.” he cheerfully responds. “nice try, name, but i can still tell that you’re feeling down. you gonna tell me what it is or are we gonna continue this act until you grow bore of it?”

you sigh, caught in your façade that you had sub-consciously put up as a defense mechanism. not that he had no know what it was. something stupid in your stomach explodes with warmth at his prying, but you can’t hate it. that same stupid thing brings you to face him again and you regret it as soon as your eyes meet

he had stepped closer, close enough for you to feel his chill through the fabric of your clothes, close enough to see the fur on his attire rustle from the breeze by the window, his hair tousling also, close enough for your eyes to become captivated from his

well, his one eye

singular

eye

you chuckle slightly, the sound bubbling from the back of your throat until its pouring out without limit. you bend over, still giggling and the force makes you stumble. but its hilarious, does he wink or blink? omg imagine if he seductively winks but it just looks like he’s well, blinking

kaeya is taken back by your giggles but his incredulous stare doesn’t manage to stop the endless wave of laughter that causes tears to form at your eye, and your cheeks to begin to ache. it would hurt his reputation severely if he’d attempt to cheekily wink only to have the receiver no clue on what he was doing

god, you can’t believe you love this stupid boy

your laughter halts almost immediately

 …

love?

you don’t love him

why would you even consider that you liked him? he was a major pain in the ass, always bothering you when you worked, always messing around, always teasing you

right, you had just been so caught up in your laughter that it convinced your mind that the endorphins that had been released was due to kaeya, but it wasn’t. you don’t feel that way about him, you had just found his appearance hilarious

right

kaeya raises another eyebrow at you. “right, are you feeling okay? maybe we should ask jean for you to take a break.” he mumbles the last part as if it was an after thought but you hear it anyways

you turn away from him and begin walking back to your office. you knew he would follow after you and he does, his footsteps echoing your own until he is walking beside you, synced in your movements. “i’m not even that busy, stop exaggerating.” you step is bouncier, your fit of laughter at fault for your raised mood

“maybe not but you’re certainly boring.”

“your idea of fun is literally drinking with dilluc and making jean mad. maybe you shouldn’t be the one telling me if i’m boring?”

“so you’re not gonna deny it?’

“i like to think i take every one of my flaws into my stride. it would be even more embarrassing if someone didn’t know how much they sucked. like say, didn’t know how stupid they looked with an eyepatch?” you stick out your tongue at him and pulled down your eye. “pirate headass.”

he laughs as if you said something funny, but along the way you laugh with him

the sound of your laughs merging together, fuelling each other on, sound like music to your ears, a clearer tune than the only floating around the city, prettier than the twinkle of bells and bird song. it sounded familiar, like home, like watching rain dance on a windowpane, like heating your hands on a warm drink

“good to know your only insult of me is my eyepatch.” he says after your chuckles die

“and how is that a good thing?”

he sneaks a glance at you before looking start forward

“it means i must look practically perfect in your eyes, save for my apparently odd fashion sense. careful, name, or you’ll somehow manage to confess to me without your own knowledge.”

you splutter as he finishes, for some reason feeling defensive. “what the fuck do you mean by that?”

“well, you’re complimenting me, no? every other aspect of me are too good to insult?” the pair of you approach the doors to your office and his face lights up, mind clearly departing his last thought. “ah! we’re here. wait, why are we here again?” despite his words, he steps forward to enter your room, neither stopping to check if he had your permission nor to see if you were going insideyou narrowly miss the door as you unfreeze and dash in after him

he had already made his way to the back corner of the room, observing the shelf you had placed beside your desk. the shelves contained items that you held dear to you, the pair of earrings your aunt had gifted you before her demise, a book that you particularly enjoyed when you were younger, a stick figure of an old cartoon mascot back when you were only a child and so much more. it aided in providing you a relief of stress in your times of need. they were delicate and of upmost importance, items you placed dangerously close to your heart. but for some reason, you didn’t mind that kaeya were looking at them now  

you knew he wouldn’t break them, he wouldn’t be in such a high position of the knights if he was clumsy

instead, your mind travels back in time to what he had said so carelessly before he had entered the room

complimenting him? how absolutely ridiculous. saying his eyepatch made him look uglier was by no means a compliment, not even a twisted one. sure, it may infer that without it he would look much better, but this didn’t mean you would find him attractive without it, what a delusion. and in truth, kaeya treated it as if you were being serious which you weren’t, really. it wasn’t as ugly as you made it sound, you actually thought he suited it quite well.

wait a minute, what were you saying? perhaps kaeya had simply wanted to use reverse psychology on you and twist your very thoughts

well, he almost succeeded, you’ll give him that

“oh? what is this?”

his voice brings you back to reality and you realise with a start that you recognised the thing he was holding in his hand, the source of his question and the reason why the room appeared so much hotter than it had been before

in his hand, he held that stupid pink bunny

his eyes search yours in question, that stupid, stupid sneer on his face once more. it was clear he expected an answer, but you gave him none, instead staring him down with your eyes, feeling hot on your cheeks

“i think i remember this plushy, wasn’t it-“

your limbs move before your mind registers them, arm reaching out and activating your element, anemo, and calling upon the power to have your treasure returned to you

the green appears circling green whisps around the pink fur, growing clearer in appearance every passing millisecond before the entire toy is succumbed with the air

a small explosion follows after the orb, zapping kaeya’s hand, causing him to lose his gentle hold

the bunny falls to the ground, millimetres away from the carpet when you pull it towards you with your anemo  

when it finally enters your grasp, you wrap both arms around the bunny and draw it towards your heart, angling your body defensively, hiding it from his stare. “don’t say a single thing.” you warn him, but you know he wouldn’t ever leave you alone now

his eyes stare down at the palm that had been holding the toy before looking back up at you. “you just… used your anemo on me.”

“i did.”

his shell-shocked expression withdraws on his face, a small smile on his lips that was neither the shit-eating grin that he usually wore nor the stupid sneer. it looked sincere. and like he came to a sudden realisation. like something was confirmed

you open your mouth to say more, deny more perhaps yet you wouldn’t know what would come out of your mouth at that moment for your door bursts open, you and kaeya reacting immediately with your respective elements in hands, you only using one as you continue to hug the stuffed toy. an oddly familiar figure appears at the door, clad in white and with bright blonde hair. after the unknown individual, a small human floats after them. at the sight of the two, kaeya relaxes which prompts you to do so as well. ah, now you realised where you had seen them before, they were the iconic traveller

“what are you doing here?” kaeya asks for you. something in his tone is guarded

the small creature, paimon as you remember, speaks first. “we’ve come to ask for a hint! you said you’d help us solve riddles, remember? for the super cool, super wicked sword?” her small head turns to you as if acknowledging you for the first time. “oh, were we interrupting something?”

you raise an eyebrow. “nice to meet you too, i’m name. how did you find this place?”

paimon shrugs. “a knight told us that if we couldn’t find kaeya, we should check in this room.”

those words made the warm icky feeling in your chest expand. you clear your throat as you sense both kaeya’s and paimon’s eyes on you, the traveller oddly not saying a word and staring off into the distance. as subtly as you could, you place the toy behind your back and down on another shelf, reminding yourself to relocate it once whatever kaeya was planning at had finished

“well, show us the riddle then.” you say, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in your chest when kaeya joins the circle the five of you made, surrounding the item in the traveller’s hand and, you cursed, far too close to your right

your arm grazes one another as you shift closer for a better look

but you swallow the feeling deep down and look up to meet the traveller’s eyes. “well, i have a clue what this could mean.” you say, contrasting all the pacing thoughts in your head, casting aside the want to kick the two intruders from your room, to confront kaeya with the emotions you’ve been feeling around him, to possibly cry at the overwhelming truth of it all, that you did love him

but they became only thoughts, visible only in your mind

this world wasn’t suit for romance, not when there was a dragon terrorising the city, not when the gods were angry, not when you hadn’t confirmed if kaeya feels the same way

so you bury your newfound feelings, smiling gently at the traveller as you share what you knew with them, ignoring the present sensation of kaeya by your side, hoping that by the time you had collected yourself, you would be able to hide these foreign feelings

from his stupid face