#probably slowish burn

[lackingspace]

Lesson in Silence (Kylo Ren x Reader)

Chapter 2 - Lesson 2

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Nothing much. Just some dirty thoughts really.

Author Note: It's been a while, and I'm back with non-horror again. But Kylo and the knights need love so here it is. Tina's OC makes an Cameo because Tina is wonderful and has the best ideas and we should all tell her to post some SW fics too 💕

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

AO3 Link: Lesson 2

Prev ch: Lesson 1

Next ch: Lesson 3

A gentle brush isn't what you'd expect from the commander. Not with his reputation or frequent tantrums around the station. Especially when your own experience subjected you to feel the waves that liked to lash out from him on a regular basis. 

Maybe he was in a good mood? Thoughts grinding like two miscalibrated turbines trying to comprehend a situation that could put Commander Ren in a good mood.

Maybe he'd gotten information about rebels? That was a logical reason. Or maybe that's why the knights had returned? Some completed and successful mission that satisfied the Commander? A lul in your speculation had an unwanted intrusive thought registered of ….or maybe he'd gotten laid.

That particular thought had a sound of disgust force its way up and out of your throat. It's not like you couldn't see the appeal. Even if you were blind you'd still be able to feel his air of authority. You didn't even need the force to sense the power rolling off him.

He was imposing in all of the worst ways that worked in all of the right ways for you. It irked you to even admit to yourself that a man with his type of dominating attitude was what your brain classified as most attractive.

But that was absolutely not what you needed to think about now. Or ever.

The shock was already more than you should risk– its stuttering disruption could be enough to alert him something was off. The last thing you needed was for him to get the idea to push deeper. 

You hadn't had a challenge like this in years and you didn't want to find out if you were out of practice. Illusive evasion while blending in was something beaten into you, but you hadn't been under direct threat in years. You palms were clammy from anxiety.

It was more muscle memory that kept you going, legs willfully moving along as if nothing was off-kilter as you tried to swallow down the panic that wanted to claw its way up and out of your chest. 

'Only a surface graze' reminding yourself, 'nothing too probing yet.'

It was like a small sectioned-off snapshot of a bigger picture. Depending on how talented he was would determine his interpretation. 

For you, surface brushes gave impressions of feelings and sometimes a stray vision into prominent things. But who knew what his capabilities were? It was safest to assume he knew your feelings at the very least.

Those had been impatience, annoyance, and anxiety when he'd pressed against your mind. All of those things could be explained away by a shift at work and honestly who wasn't on edge standing next to the Commander? 

He was still there, an interloper sitting lightly against your psyche. He wasn't pushing in or grazing against you just yet.

He'd only get vague thoughts or impressions observing like an unintentional eavesdropper on a hushed conversation. He obviously knew you were thinking and feeling, but he would only get the most prominent thoughts or feelings sitting against you like a blanket on a cold night.

The sudden shift to panic would definitely float up to meet him though, even with your efforts to stay calm. You needed to change gears and shift your thoughts to something that could be the cause for it before he felt the need to check.

Thinking about the shift you'd had trying to find something that was worthy of your sudden flash of panic– the work you'd done, things that needed to be ordered, what you needed to review tomorrow. Thinking of the sexy sniper that was sitting in the VIP section waiting for modifications. Nothing out of the ordinary. Simple, plain, and as generic as it comes. Your thoughts wandered back to the sniper as you felt a brush again. 

Gu'il, the arms master, had sat it in the high-priority section and specifically requested– more like yelled across the shop, for you to work your black magic. 

You fabricated another wave of panic but changed the cause from him to the fact that you hadn't been able to look it over during your shift.

You hadn't even gotten a good look at it, but from the look you did, stars it was going to be one sexy gun. You weren't even sure who'd be packing a high-caliber weapon on base anyways. Maybe a higher-ups personal collection, you usually didn't ask.

Regardless of who owned it, the request was high-priority, meaning you should have dropped everything for it. The fact that you hadn't would piss off whoever owned it and your boss, but it was bad timing. Letting another way of anxiety flush though you are the thought of Gu'il being pissed.

A few of the ship's primary cannons had gone offline just that morning and you'd made the executive decision that keeping the bases primary weapons online took precedence over VIP priority. No matter how sexy the gun was or how bad you wanted to get your hands on it.

The only request you'd have even considered sidelining base weapons for was the Supreme leader or the commander…but the likelihood of either of those two requesting anything of the weapons department was laughable. Like a response to your nonchalant thought of him, you felt the jolt of a deeper dive. Probing, but not wholly invasive. Prompted more by the curiosity you could feel in his intent than a real dig for information. 

Non-sensitives wouldn't have really noticed it, possibly thought a headache was coming on if anything. And so that's how you chose to play it. 

Forcing the thought to the forefront of your mind, Ugh, that fall earlier must have really banged my head harder than I thought. Maybe Gu'il has some pain meds in the shop. 

There wasn't a fall, but the commander wouldn't know that unless he dug deep. Fabricating a remembered fall while working on a turbine before shaking your head.

Maybe Gu'il's right. One of these days I'm gonna fall and catch a solder to the face. He'd never let me live it down, the kriffing ass.

The mirth you felt had you freeze. The..commander…did he… shit. You needed to cover that blunder quickly. That emotion would draw too much attention without an explanation. 

Shit, shit, shit was I supposed to meet Talitha today? Did we say Tuesday or Wednesday? Shit, I can’t remember. 

Ugh if it's today she's gonna bite my head off. What's the time? Stars, I'm 20 minutes late, she's gonna flip if I keep her longer. Guess no time for food.

Letting your actual panic from feeling the commander's amusement rise up, you started a light jog, thoughts focused on the fabrication of how you're supposed to meet your friend for training. 

Which, wasn’t a total lie, she'd seen you in the gym practicing your staff spinning after a shift one day and asked if you'd train her. It just wasn't planned for today or even this week.

She was off base piloting a transport of newly acquired cargo.

Rather than a workout, you'd planned on going back into the shop after hours after some dinner…Gu'il wouldn't exactly be pissed if you saved the VIP for the morning, but workaholic that you were, you really did want quality time with that sniper. 

Looks like plans changed though because you could still feel him lightly sifting through your surface memories. Attention paid more to the events of your day rather than what was currently going on in your head.

Mind probing, luckily for you, was a complex thing. Even a master could be deceived. There was something to be said about innate natural skill, just like every other thing in life– some people had more aptitude for it, but on the whole, mental prowess was more of an art than a simple technique. 

From the way the commander was shifting your thoughts, you couldn't say if he had a talent for it. Not that you'd really be able to accurately gauge his skill without giving yourself away anyways.

Unable to satisfy the incessant need to catalog and analyze made you antsy. The muscle of your throat unconsciously tightened at the feel of his invisible tendrils sweeping against you. 

The Commander was surprising you at each turn. The gentleness he was using was a direct contradiction to everything you'd known him to be. You'd expected… something . Aggression, a brash battering ram trying to split your skull, or even a needling pierce with cold detachment. Anything befitting the predatory Master of the Knights of Ren. 

Anything other than the docile wave as if he was a lothcat lazily brushing against a pant leg. The idea that he could be soft was one that didn't sit right. It wasn't that you didn't expect people to be multidimensional, but…you didn't need more reason to think about him at night.The tickling warmth blooming in your chest from his caresses didn't help. Stuttering out a breath had a pleasant chill run down your spine. 

The way he worked through your recent thoughts really felt as if he'd slowly dragged his fingertips up the bare skin of your back in a barely there feathery touch. That was the only reason for the chill. Nothing else. Or that's what you told yourself while desperately pressing the sensations deep down to the farthest reaches of your mind.

Trying to calm your breath as you rushed to the gym. You came often enough, almost every day really. Often enough that you'd had an unofficial designated locker in the changing rooms. No one ever bothered your things, so you always left a change of gym clothes there. 

Rushing and trying to ignore the situation in your head had you miss the very glaring fact there was a lack of people in the area. 

Typically, people were milling around the area at all hours. Different shifts had the training area perpetually busy. There were always a few people waiting outside for friends or just calming down from their workout before heading off.

But the corridor was barren. The locker room was the same, something that normally would have given you pause. But the slow amused waves washing against you gave you no room to question the deserted area. 

Keeping up the thoughts about meeting your friend to keep the facade in place. Stars, I hope it's not today. I don't want to deal with her bitching right now. Already have a headache just thinking about it. 

Pushing the mechanism on the door panel had the metal slide open to the connected gym. Rushing in to sweep the area, already knowing Tali wouldn't be there. The lack of other people finally registered and struck you as odd. But it only lasted a second before you realized what had everyone treating the area like it was diseased. 

In the matted section of the gym designated for tumbles or grappling, there were three knights. Still fully decked out in their heavy armor, two of the three were wrestling with the third leaning against a pillar, arms crossed watching the pair. 

Well, I take it back, Tali's bitching would totally be preferred right now. You hadn't even cared if the commander's attention turned back to you and your current thoughts. Judging from the way his mind twisted warmly against yours, he'd heard.

Well, no need to panic anymore, it's definitely canceled if it was today. Spinning on your heel ready to reopen the now firmly shut door, when had that closed? Raising a hand while you thought about a stopping by the caf before going back to the shop. Trying to appear as mundane and ordinary as possible.

But a modulated voice stopped you.

"You didn't come in here just to walk out." 

Your eyes closed as dread filled you. Just once, just once it would be nice to catch a break. Turning on your heel again, you looked to the trio– all helmeted heads were turned towards you, but it must have been one of the two who'd been grappling that spoke judging from the distance of the voice. Speaking of, the two had already pushed apart and we're now standing with their arms crossed as well.

The voice spoke again and it confirmed that it belonged to the leftmost grappler, "Brave girl walking in here all alone."

You couldn't stop the thought that they must have been excited fresh prey wandered right into their laps. Brave? That would have made you laugh if you weren't in this situation, you weren't brave, just an idiot.

The Commander brushed lazily against you again, but this time it was even less invasive, almost as if he was distracted. You weren't the sole focus anymore. More than an afterthought, but not in direct fire either. 

Pursuing your lips, "Wasn't sure it was occupied, but I see it is," slowly creeping back towards the haven of the lockers, "So," drawing out the syllable as you backpedaled, "I'll just leave you all to it." 

A gruff voice prickled you next, "Thought you were the only one with balls on the ship. Dropped them on the way in?" It was the other grappler that spoke this time.

His friend clapped his shoulder like he'd come up with some great jab. Your eyes couldn't roll harder if you tried. Who knew the knights were childish, "Let's go with massive stupidity instead of balls." 

The back of your heel hit the door before the last member spoke, "Before you leave," his voice wasn't exactly rough, but there was a grit to under the modulation. One that typically came from disuse. And it struck you as a pleasant sound.

Even the quiet one wanted to prick at you? How unlucky. There was an extended pause as if he was unsure as to his next words or simply distracted. 

The lessening presence of their master from behind your eyes hinted at the reason behind the pause.

The commander hadn't left you fully, just retracted or distracted his hold. Like he was sitting behind a security terminal with grainy images rather than directly feeling, seeing, or hearing your thoughts. 

Probably speaking to his.... apprentice? subordinate? Whatever they were to him.

The silence only dragged a few seconds more before it was broken again, "Come. Give us an unbiased party to settle the match." 

Closing your eyes you envisioned the workshop, of all the modifications you could be working on, on getting to look at that pretty sniper that was sitting in the locked VIP section. Anything other than the living nightmare you've somehow found yourself in. 

The face of the old master briefly flashed before your eyes. The worry of the commander seeing wasn't as threatening, with his ire drawn away, he wouldn't see. But your ire was pointedly focused on that smiling face.

How was it that you'd been badgered all day, followed and harassed from the moment you woke, but now? He was conveniently nowhere to be found .  

Rolling your eyes as you were silently cursing his ghostly visage. He couldn't have even been there to give you that catty smile he'd occasionally shoot you when you tried ignoring his pleas. 

It was a look that said he knew something. A smug expression that had grated on your nerves as much as it had caused you to note he'd been a handsome man. 

Standing there now though? There was no doubt that if you ever saw that master again you'd try with everything in you to wring his neck. No matter how attractive his smirk painted him.

The feeling that he was behind this was too clear for you to doubt. It may all be an elaborate will of the force and he was just the extension of it, but you needed something to blame and he'd been poking you all day.

Pushing and pressing that you should listen. No rhyme or reason why today was so important. But now, when what you never wanted to happen was on a collision course with reality, he was conveniently gone. 

Typical.

His earlier words echoed in your mind. 

"They need you youngling, as you need them. You will come to understand."

The words hadn't sat well with you when he uttered it at your back this morning and the echo was turning your stomach twice over now. 

They had a master. One who was still distantly languid against your psyche– the only luck you'd had today was that he hadn't dipped in for a deep inspection, even if he was still there. 

They even had their master's master. 

They most certainly didn't need you. No one really needed your particular perception of the galaxy.

As you stood there irritated with how youd known you should have stayed in bed today– one of the knights spoke up. It was one of the two wrestling, "Are you hard of hearing as well as stupid then? We have need of you. So get to it." 

Your jaw clenched. It seems they shared their master's gift of interrupting your inner turmoil. Sudden cold fear gripped you. Unnatural fear, something decidedly not originating from you. It had your heart rate spike and breath to catch both from the feel of it and the implications.

This wasn't you, sure you were on edge, but the sudden onset was alarming. Your gaze drifted to the quiet one still leaning against a beam. He shared the same authoritative attitude his master held. Power in his presence.

Dragging your gaze slowly from his feet to meet his helmeted visage.

It was emanating from him. Your sole thought consisted of, 'He's dangerous'.

It was unfiltered and lacked finesse as he slammed against your feelings. You could feel how he was shoving dred at you like how you chugged Caf in the morning. There was nothing of the skill his master displayed in the slow controlled probing.

'Uncontrol, domineering, seething' It was all you could do to catalogue his attack. It distracted from the raging storm inside you. Your master would have thoroughly enjoyed beating control into him.

Still, if he was able to project this much as uncontrol as he seemed, you were glad he didn't have the Commander's ability. 

Blocking out his crashing against your emotions wasn't an option. If his master wasn't still observing you, then you could have filtered out the fear. But as it was, you just had to take it.

And stars , judging from the way he brashly shoved against your mind he wanted you to take it. Wanted you to submit. To break.

That thought had something warm and hot spark between your legs that you didn't really want to acknowledge. His domineering energy satisfied that twisted part you liked to push deep down. It was enough to have the breath caught in your chest stutter out.

His master probably said something…it was the only thing that made sense. how he'd retracted, the knights silence, his sudden attack. Plus, you could see the Commander being amused at how much fear his apprentice was able to wring from the girl who thought he was a prick....assuming he'd even heard you back in the lift.

You could feel the knight relishing how much emotion he was washing you in too. Trying his best to drown you in it. And that had fear coiling with heat in the pit of your stomach. All he'd need to do was start giving you orders and you'd have a problem that had nothing to you with the force.

You couldn't take your eyes off him and although he wore a helmet you felt his eyes glued to you. 

The panic was inescapable, but in it you risked feeling his intentions. He was pushing them at you so readily that it would take effort on your part.

Testing you, fulfilling a request, wanted to see how much you could take before you broke. The Commander chose that moment to drag his invisible fingers against you. It must have been the combination of sensation because an uninvited image pushed it's way to the forefront of your mind– you on your knees in front of the knight demanding more.

The Commander must have felt, or worse– saw what you'd thought because you swore there was buzzing laughter as his presence left you.

Finally. Your mind was yours again. 

Another press of the knight had your thighs clenching. Mostly anway. With the way he threw the force at you, you doubted he could prickle into your mind like his master, but you didn't want to chance it. 

"Stop eye fucking Vicrul and let us get back to grappling or give us a real show." That wonderful comment had your eyes rolling in annoyance, but it was effective in interrupting your quickly devolving train of thought.

This was not the moment to think about what you could do for him on your knees anyways. Not that you really needing to think about that, but you would. There was just better timing and places for it.

You huffed in irritation at yourself, offering to blow a knight of Ren was literally the last thing you should ever consider and not an image you needed pushing to the surface of your thoughts anyways…at least not while you were surrounded by kriffing force users.

That's just asking for trouble. Dragging your eyes back down his form– still…the appeal was definitely there. He was your type and that was more dangerous than the fear he'd been shoving down your throat.

He hadn't moved from the position against the pillar, arms crossed as he stared you down. Vicrul as you now knew him, held the same dark demanding appeal of the Commander. Sure it made heat prickle your senses in a way you had found in anyone on base, but you didn't need to mess around with someone who would kill you. Master would roll in her grave if she saw you now...or maybe she'd think I deserve it.

Letting your shoulders drop from the tense position, plastering a tight-lipped smile on before turning your gaze towards the still unnamed pair. 

"Stupidity and deaf don't make for the best judge. I'll pass. I'm sure you're more than capable without me…" you trailed off as you made a vague gesture towards them, "with whatever this is." Quickly twisting around towards the door you threw a hand up in a quick wave goodbye, "Later."

Your hand was hovering over the panel to open it as Vicrul spoke in a darkened timber, "Are you questioning me?" The tone of his voice held the authority of a superior officer reprimanding a subordinate. Your spine suddenly became ramrod straight– never mind that they technically weren't officers, they superseded traditional rank by being a knight. 

You don't fuck with Commander Ren's men, but they sure as hell could fuck with you. And from the grit in his voice, he was just as affected by what he'd done to you. Good to know he got off on trying to break you.

"No, Sir." was your clipped answer.

He spoke again, just as dark but even more demanding, "Then get over here, officer." Taking a deep breath as you trudged your way over toward him. When you came to stand beside him facing the other two unnamed knights he made a noise of disapproval. 

"You wanted to kneel," his gloved hand settled on your shoulder to shove down against you, "So kneel." The shock had you crumble to the command easily.

Then the embarrassment filled you. The Commander definitely saw what you'd thought and had shared it. It was the only explanation. Vicrul didn't have the skill to pierce your mind and it not register. 

At your shock he explained, "You thought I couldn't tell what was going on in that pretty little head?" If you weren't you the lie would have passed for the truth. But you know it wasn't him that had really been inside your mind. It only confirmed that his master must have been feeling generous enough to share your thoughts. 

His hand that'd still been on your shoulder pulled away, brushing against the nape of your neck to grip your jaw with the cool leather. Turning your face to his fellow knights, "Be a good girl for me and watch Trugden and Cardo fight. I gave you an order to judge their match, don't disappoint me." 

The grip paired with his words had your thighs clenching. Having orders given to you was nothing new, they didn't make a heat burn through you or a need to please when your boss gave them. But he pulled a completely different reaction.

Paired with his voice, dark timbre nice to listen to and the way he manhandled you more than appealing. But his orders had you tumbling down quickly.

You were in so much fucking trouble.

It was surprising he so readily touched you. Hadn't heard the knights ever being handsy with anyone on base…Hadn't even heard of them standing close enough to touch anyone honestly.

But then again, how many others had the Commander decided his knights needed to heckle. Or how often did officers 'eye fuck' him as his friend so nicely out it. You'd hazard a guessnnot many.

….Wait.

He'd said Cardo– you knew that name. 

Jerking your jaw from his grip you spoke up, "Wait, Cardo? As in the Cardo that Albrekh is always messaging me about?" surprise was clear on your face, "Mods for the canon arm, right? How'd you like the kinetic feeder?"

That had the helmeted head of Cardo whip away from Trudgen, "No shit? You're the little arms tech Albrekh swindled that mod from?"

[hisui-dreamer]

Can I have orange blossoms with jade leech for eternal love and marriage please? Thankyou!

is it love or just really nice flowers?

Pairing: Jade Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: jade likes giving you flowers, it probably doesn't mean anything special though... right?

Tags: fluff, pining, slowish burn, eels are cowards, mentions of marriage, reader likes flowers

Word count: 1.2k+

Notes: thank you for requesting anon!! i had a lot of fun squealing when writing this one hehe

Masterlist

flower of choice: orange blossoms

orange blossoms symbolise eternal love and marriage, and they are often used in wedding ceremonies as symbols of purity and eternal love

You suppose it all started on your first Valentine’s Day in Twisted Wonderland.

As a member of the Mostro Lounge staff, you found yourself amidst the bustling atmosphere of the Mostro Lounge, where Azul's ambitious plans to capitalize on the love-filled holiday were in full swing. The lounge pulsated with the presence of couples occupying every available table.

Soft, dim lighting cast a warm glow over the space, enveloping everything in an air of intimacy and mystery. The gentle hum of conversation and laughter filled the air, mingling with the smooth melodies of jazz music drifting from hidden speakers.

Couples nestled into plush velvet booths, their faces illuminated by the soft light, lost in each other's eyes and whispers. Waiters moved gracefully between tables, delivering trays adorned with exotic beverages and plates of delectable meals, their steps silent against the plush carpeting.

But what caught your eye the most were the bouquets given to significant others, adorning the tables like precious jewels. Each one was a masterpiece in its own right, meticulously selected and arranged to convey the deepest sentiments of adoration.

"It must be nice receiving flowers…" you murmured to yourself, lost in thought.

“You would like to receive flowers?”

You snapped your head around at the sound of Jade's voice, finding him with a curious expression on his face. Surprise flickered in your eyes at his question, but a smile bloomed on your lips as you considered receiving flowers from someone.

“Yeah," you replied, a hint of longing in your voice, "who wouldn't? Receiving gifts makes you feel so appreciated. Plus, who wouldn't be happy looking at something pretty?"

Jade took a moment to mull over your words, his gaze thoughtful. Eventually, he nodded in agreement. "Hmm… I see. That does sound quite lovely," he acknowledged.

The conversation was quickly cut short when new orders and tasks arrived. In the whirlwind of never-ending tasks, the conversation had slipped from your mind almost entirely, until he appeared later that week, returning from a hiking trip with a delightful surprise in tow.

"Here, Prefect," he began, his voice gentle as he produced a bouquet of orange blossoms from behind his back. "These are for you," he offered with a soft smile.

The bouquet was a sight to behold, a delicate ensemble of ivory-hued blooms that exuded an ethereal beauty. Each flower boasted star-shaped petals, arranged in a symmetrical fashion around a central cluster of stamens. These stamens, adorned with tips of yellow to orange hues, stood out like tiny flames amidst the pristine white petals, adding a touch of vibrant colour to the otherwise pure palette. With their intricate details and subtle fragrance, the orange blossoms seemed to radiate a quiet elegance, captivating all who beheld their serene charm.

You couldn't help but notice the faintest flush of pink tinting his ears, and your own heart skipped a beat in response. You were well aware of the symbolism behind orange blossoms—eternal love and marriage. But surely, Jade couldn't mean that, could he?

"You brought these for me?" you asked, a mix of surprise and delight colouring your tone.

Jade nodded, a warmth spreading through him at your delight. "Yes, I thought you might like them," he admitted softly.

As you accepted the bouquet, a rush of emotions flooded over you. The delicate scent of the orange blossoms enveloped you, filling your senses with a sweet, intoxicating aroma. Mesmerized, you found yourself unable to look away from the vibrant blooms, each one a masterpiece of nature, without a single flaw in sight.

Jade's gaze remained fixed on yours, his expression tender and sincere. It was as though he was studying your reaction with unwavering attention, and a flutter of anticipation stirred in your chest at the vulnerability he revealed.

"Thank you, Jade," you said, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity. "These are beautiful."

A relieved smile spread across Jade's face, his eyes alight with a mixture of joy and relief. "I'm glad you like them," he murmured, his voice tinged with warmth.

Though you’re not sure why, Jade had made it a habit to always bring back a bouquet of orange blossoms for you from his hiking trips.

"It doesn't really bother me," he'd say with a closed-eye smile, "since it's on the way."

Each time he presented you with the blooms, your heart fluttered with joy. Yet, you hesitated to believe there were underlying intentions behind his gift. After all, Jade had always been kind to you, and you couldn't fathom the idea of him harbouring romantic feelings.

As the end of his third year at NRC approached, a bittersweet anticipation filled the air. The impending farewell weighed heavy on your heart, mingling with a sense of melancholy. Although Jade promised to visit during breaks and holidays, the thought of no longer seeing him every day stung with loneliness.

Summer break was nearing, and the campus was buzzing with students bidding farewells and exchanging hugs. Amidst the flurry of goodbyes, Jade sought you out, as he always did, with a bouquet of orange blossoms cradled in his arms. His smile was tinged with a hint of sadness as he approached you, and you felt a lump form in your throat at the sight of him.

"These are for you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he handed the flowers to you.

You accepted the bouquet with trembling hands, the weight of the moment settling heavily upon you. The sweet fragrance of the orange blossoms enveloped you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to dispel the sorrow that threatened to consume you.

"Thank you, Jade," you managed to say, your voice choked with emotion.

“I... I don’t wish for this to be the last time I give you flowers,” he confessed softly, his eyes searching yours with earnest sincerity. “Will you really not consider marriage with me?"

A heavy silence hung between you, each moment feeling weighted with unspoken words and unexpressed feelings. Then, Jade reached out to cup your cheek, guiding your gaze to meet his.

Caught off guard by his heartfelt plea, your eyes widened in astonishment. "Jade, I... I never realized... You…"

"But you knew, didn't you? You must have..." Jade's voice trembled with vulnerability. "Every flower, every gesture—it was all for you."

Your mind raced, memories flashing before your eyes like a vivid tapestry woven from moments shared together. Each bouquet, each flower—he had poured his heart into every gesture, his feelings hidden in plain sight all along.

Tears shimmered in your eyes as understanding washed over you like a gentle wave crashing upon the shore. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and you realized the depth of his devotion, the sincerity of his love.

“Yes, Jade," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with certainty. "Yes, a thousand times, yes."

The next thing you know, his lips are pressed against yours in a tender, passionate embrace. In that fleeting moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the sweetness of his kiss, and the promise of a love that would endure through every trial and triumph.

Masterlist

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[tokyo-debunker-idk]

Crushed | 01

Summary: He's tried to convince Leo that you're a cool person, to which the former just scoffs and accuses Sho of having a crush. Honestly, the reaction is obnoxious – people of the opposite sex are perfectly able to have platonic friendships. Just because Sho's taken to bringing an extra lunch for you on training days so you can eat together after, and he enjoys spending time with you, and you're pretty and smell good even after an hour of sparring, doesn't mean he has a crush.

Pairing: Haizono Sho x Reader x Kurosagi Leo

Genre: Humor, romantic comedy, slowish burn, no real plot, Leo bullying

18+, minors DNI

~~~~~

"If you can't do it what's even the point of taking you on missions?"

Leo's condescending, disappointed tone cuts you like a knife. Your stigma-enhancing ability, one of the only reasons you're supposed to be useful at this academy, didn't work on Sho during the mission.

"You just expect us to protect you? You're dead weight. Right, Sho?"

You tune out the rest of their conversation as shame flares in your chest, hot and painful. As much as you want to fight Leo's cruel words, the inherent truth behind them clogs your throat. Because he's right. You can't fight, you don't know anything about anomalies, and you've had to be rescued in every mission even when your ability did work.

He doesn't have to be such a dick about it, though. Stupid finger-hearting TikTok asshole. Harsh truths are even harsher when they come from someone you dislike, and you've disliked the pretty, silver-haired influencer ever since you met him, when he unnecessarily antagonized your friends just for his amusement. The impression has only been further compounded by his attitude during the mission, and just how convincingly he was able to spin tales and fake emotions and tears to convince his audience. Leo is a manipulative bastard, and you don't trust him one bit.

Unfortunately, that doesn't make any of his current words less valid. At this rate, you're going to die sitting on your ass while the ghouls do all the work. You only have a year until your curse kills you, and you've already almost died more than once. So why are you being so timid and hesitant? Might as well risk earlier death by giving it your all than sit passively and hope everything works out.

Your resolve grows, and by the time you're back at your own chapel-dorm, you've made a decision.

~~~~~

Sho blinks as he arrives at the Vagastrom Pit at lunch, because for some reason the honor student is already there. Looking at you gives him a twinge of shame – sure, he'll scam rich assholes with Leo and follow his plots, but he's never almost caused an innocent person's death before. Especially one who has done nothing but try to help others, the entire time he's known you.

The look of panic on your face, the way you had tried to reach out – still trusting him to save you despite his failure – had plagued his dreams last night, and seeing you solid, safe, and alive in front of him now is more of a relief than he wants to admit.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, making you squeak and almost drop your phone, and he resolutely does not notice that it's quite cute. He doesn't really deserve to.

For some reason you're the one who looks guilty, despite having done nothing wrong. And then he notices you're wearing athletic gear rather than your usual uniform.

"Alan told you to come here at lunch for training, right?" you ask, standing up and tossing your phone carelessly into your bag to give him your full attention in a way Leo never does. "I want to join."

"Are you crazy?" asks Sho incredulously, wondering why on earth you would voluntarily sign up for what is most likely going to be a beatdown. Based on how the mission went, you've never even been anywhere near a fight before coming to Darkwick. So why this?

"No. Maybe." you reply, your face determined. "But I'd rather be crazy than useless."

Oh. So that's why.

Alan arrives right then, which is probably a good thing because Sho feels a nauseating mixture of shame and – admiration? The reminder of Leo's jibes makes guilt bubble in his stomach, but something about the staunch resolve on your face fills his chest with a warmth akin to the first time he held your hand on the mission. Or maybe it's an after effect of you enhancing his stigma.

Sho's not really sure, but he does decide then and there that he is going to do his best to make it up to you.

~~~~~

"Oh my god, this is so good," you practically moan as you take a huge bite of your sandwich. "Sho, you should charge for this." You're so invested in your meal that you miss the way the tips of his ears turn pink at your praise.

"It's just a sandwich," he replies, brushing off your comment and resisting the urge to twirl his silver hair like a schoolgirl. The two of you are eating in the courtyard after getting pummeled by Alan for the better half of the lunch hour, sitting in the grass because all the benches are already occupied.

He shouldn't feel this pleased by your approval, but as he's gotten to know you, he's come to respect and value your opinion. Sure, maybe at first he had begun spending time with you out of guilt, but you really are cool – fun and snarky in a way he hadn't noticed during the mission. Hanging out with you is comfortable, easy, and he doesn't have to worry about silly intrigues and gossip. You're honest and upfront in a way Leo has never been, and while he loves his best friend, being around you is refreshing.

And you're determined, never complaining during the training sessions no matter what Alan has you do despite the fact that you're clearly out of your element. Sho supposes Alan saw that in you long before he did, because the captain seems completely unsurprised by your conviction. It makes him feel a little ashamed in a different way than guilt – that he has nothing to strive for other than whatever Leo comes up with.

Sho kind of wishes the three of you could hang out together, but Leo's made it clear he has no interest in ever interacting with you, and you look distinctly uncomfortable any time Leo is in the vicinity. Which Sho can't exactly blame you for, considering his friend's behavior.

He's tried to convince Leo to give you a chance, to which the former merely scoffs and accuses Sho of having a crush. Honestly, the reaction is obnoxious – people of the opposite sex are perfectly able to have platonic friendships. Just because Sho's taken to bringing an extra lunch for you on training days so you can eat together after, and he enjoys spending time with you, and you're pretty and smell good even after an hour of sparring, doesn't mean he has a crush.

"No, I'm serious," you insist, jabbing the half-eaten sandwich at him for emphasis. "The fried egg is salted perfectly, and I never thought of including green onion with other veggies. It's really delicious."

The sweetly earnest expression on your face brings that familiar warmth to his chest, and Sho can't help but smile when he notices a dab of mayo on your nose.

"So you're saying I should start charging you for these lunches?" he teases, using his thumb to wipe the condiment off your face and absently noting how soft your skin feels.

"What? I don't get VIP privileges for being adorable?" you reply with a pout that is, indeed, adorable. Sho just snorts at your audacity as he wipes his hand on a napkin.

"No, you don't. But I suppose I can give you friend privileges since we're both being physically abused together."

Your eyes sparkle when you smile, and Sho feels that fluttery warmth again. They really do need to do more testing with your ability.

"Thanks Sho, you're the best," you announce happily, dropping your head on his shoulder affectionately. "I'm glad you're my friend. And not just for the food, either."

How do you still smell so nice after all that sweating?

~~~~~

TikTokBitch: Hey honor roll

You: What do you want

TikTokBitch: I know ur free

TikTokBitch: Come to the garage quick

Your brows crinkle as you scowl at your phone. Does he really think you're going to just rush over like an obedient little puppy? If his personality matched his good looks, you'd be happy to help him. It's truly a waste that such a gigantic turd has such a pretty exterior.

You pause, an idea sparking in your head.

You: I will if you owe me a favor

TikTokBitch: Whatever fine just hurry up

~~~~~

Leo rolls his eyes in annoyance as you stroll into the Pit, tape wrapped around your knuckles as if you're actually going to fight.

He'd been surprised when your "favor" had been to spar with him, of all things. Are you trying to impress him or something? Maybe you think close physical contact will make him like you. Sad, really.

Still, he had stupidly agreed to give you a favor in his impatience to hear more clandestine conversations, and now he's here wasting his precious time. He thought you'd learned your place after your mission together, but apparently he'll have to humble you again. Leo isn't exactly a fighter, but he is still a ghoul, and that means an NPC like you doesn't stand a chance.

Which is why it's laughable that you're stretching as if this is serious, like it's a real pit match rather than just the two of you here at night. Leo hasn't even told Sho, because he doesn't like the way his friend seems to be getting closer to you by the day.

Leo contemplates how Sho has been spending his lunch hours with you. Does he actually have a crush on you despite his denials? You're not even that interesting.

He narrows his eyes as he watches you finish warming up, trying to understand what Sho sees in you.

You are kind of brave, he supposes, considering you've been a normal person without any knowledge of this side of the world until recently. And you have a pretty face, when it's not twisted into a sour expression every time you see him. You also have a nice ass, he vaguely notes as you finish warming up. Then he realizes he's ogling and snaps out of it, irritated because you're definitely wearing those little shorts to show yourself off in a way your uniform skirt doesn't.

He really needs to get Sho off campus so he remembers other girls exist, because this is ridiculous. You aren't special, and Sho obviously needs to be reminded of that.

~~~~~

"I win," you sing out smugly, smirking down at the ghoul you've pinned beneath you. Leo's pretty face exudes irritation, if not a little bit of shock, which just serves to boost your ego even more. Not for the first time, you lament that such beautiful golden eyes and sharp cheekbones belong to an asshole like him.

"Don't get cocky," he hisses in frustration, too stunned to do anything but glare. "Just because you caught me off guard, doesn't mean you're any less use–"

– SLAP.

You are so sick of his shit. Perhaps he did underestimate you, but that doesn't make your victory any less valid. If you've learned anything from Alan and Sho (other than that it's possible to be sore in muscles you didn't even realizes existed), it's that there are no rules in a real fight. When you're trying to survive, any and all possibilities should be taken advantage of. The one time you managed to land a hit on Sho (not that it caused any actual damage), he hadn't been pissed and petulant. He'd been proud, approval for you shining from his handsome face.

Leo, on the other hand, can't seem to stand the idea of anyone being better than him. Or even having more attention than him. All he does is manipulate and pull down everyone around him, and you are done hearing the poison that drips from his lips. You open your own mouth to give him a piece of your mind when you feel it.

It being something stirring beneath you, and you're reminded that you are straddling the TikTok asshole in a rather compromising position. One glance at his face shows reddening skin from your slap and shock in his golden eyes.

What the fuck.

"G-get off me," he mutters, staunchly looking anywhere but at you as a rosy flush creeps up his neck. Holy shit. Did slapping him… turn him on?

It's the first time you've ever seen him this flustered, and as disgusted as you are, a petty part of you is pleased to finally have the upper-hand. For this small period of time, you seem to be the one in control, and that feeling is… satisfying in a way you're not currently ready to acknowledge.

So you make a somewhat questionable decision. Instead of scrambling off him as you probably should, you grind against him just ever so slightly. Leo's gaze meets yours, wide in surprise as you feel him harden beneath you, and at the edge of your vision you see his fingers twitch as his hands inch toward your hips.

You slap his other cheek, and feel him twitch against your shorts despite the way his eyes burn with rage. You give him your sweetest smile, infinitely pleased to have confirmed your suspicions, the sting of your palms a satisfying proof of victory.

Then, you do what any other vindictive human would do. You flick his forehead and get up, very charitably resisting the urge to kick him before walking away.

Before he can do anything other than gawk and splutter, Alan and Sho enter the room. Perfect timing actually, because despite your bravado you actually have no idea what to do next other than run away as realization of what you had just done crashes into you.

"Oh hey guys!" you chirp happily, doing what you do best and shoving the event into a dusty corner of your brain to avoid thinking about it. You prance over to the two and tackle Sho in a hug, just to annoy your opponent even further. "I beat Leo!"

Alan's lips quirk into what, for Alan, counts as a smile, and he pats your head gently.

"Good work."

You still haven't really decided if you have the best luck, or the worst. Sure, you've been cursed by a creepy one-eyed flower to die within a year, and sure you're basically Darkwick's slave and periodically sent on dangerous missions with superhumans of questionable mental stability, but well.

At least they're hot.

And most of them treat you like a human being, other than perhaps Jin who sees you as a glorified chore-peasant, and Leo who perhaps after today will stop looking at you like gum stuck to his shoe.

"You've been training with them?"

You turn to see the man in question, looking pissed but otherwise back to normal as if nothing has happened. He's still looking at you like you're unworthy of his acknowledgement, and you can't help but antagonize him.

"Yeah, maybe you should too. It seemed like you were having a hard time out there."

His expression twists – a mixture of furious and mortified – and it's more than enough to have made all this training with it.

Sho chortling as he teases Leo for losing to you is just the icing on the cake.

~~~~~ Masterlist | Next

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Field Trip Time!

Human Hotel Fic! Part 1

Hazbin Hotel ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor ₊⁺⋆ Eventually Explicit

This one is probably T-rated ~ 1.7k

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

// Slowish-burn, Bi!Charlie, Demi!Alastor, Based on this art [Link] about Charlie and Alastor taking a field trip to a human hotel for "business experience." Human Alastor based on this art [Link] (I'm also GrayAce. Update: He's actually giving Demi vibes //

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

Charlie Morningstar twirled down the grand staircase of her Hazbin Hotel, arms lifted, and a musical “Ta-da!” on her now pink lips. 

She paused dramatically in the lobby, striking a pose to show off her new human look. Charlie’s usual excitement sparkled out of amber eyes and pale beige face. She gave a spin, showing of the pink lounge wear and a foot less of golden blonde hair. 

“What do you think? Pretty convincing, right?”

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow from his perch at the bar. “Not bad, toots. You’ll pass as a boring old human.”

“Thanks!” Charlie’s smile didn’t falter as she hopped onto the barstool on the other side of the spider demon from Cherri. “I just can’t wait, a real, human hotel experience! It’s going to be so…educational!” the princess spun in her seat, knocking her crossed ankles into one of half a dozen matching pink luggage piled up by the bar.

“Whoops, so maybe I over packed a bit.” She admitted, hefting the suitcase back onto the stack. “But it’s better to be prepared!”

Husk scowled from behind the bar, resting on an elbow as he watched Charlie’s attics. “Yeah, sounds real thrilling—ya do realize your powers are next to useless up there, right?”

“Aw, don’t be sucha buzzkill, ya old furball.” Cherri bombed chimed in, slamming her glass down on the bartop. “Could be fun to raise a lil’ hell topside.” 

Charlie’s grin was a little forced as she thanked Cherri for her…support? 

Angel sipped his martini delicately, his elbow resting on the bar and one of the other arms cocked on his hip. “Speakin’ of hell raising, you sure this isn’t just a little vacay to distract ya, from a certain someone runnin’ off to heaven again?”

Charlie’s perpetual positivity faltered, but only for a moment. 

“What? No, of course not! This is purely for research purposes. Totally business professional.”

But as Charlie busied herself  glacing through the human phone she’d acquired for the trip, she couldn’t quite banish the twinge of heartache that flared at the mention of her ex. 

Charlie straightened up, her sunny demeanor returning full force. “No, it’s not about Vaggie at all. I’m genuinely excited for this experience! And I’m happy that Vaggie is busy with her new role as our emissary to Heaven. It’s a great opportunity for her.”

Angel couldn’t resist another jab. “Yeah, I hear she’s really hit it off with that Emily gal up there. Real angelic connection, if you know what I mean.”

Charlie’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly, but she chose to ignore Angel’s comment. Instead, she busied herself with adjusting the strap on one of her many bags.

This trip was exactly what she need, she reassured herself. A fresh start and a chance to prove that she could make this hotel work. No more distractions.

“Well, I say go for it, girl! Live it up in the land of the living!” Cherri grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “But wait, you’re not going solo, are ya? That’d be a real bummer.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, no! I won’t be alone. Alastor’s coming with me!”

The reaction was instantaneous. Angel choked on his martini, Husk’s jaw dropped, and even Cherri looked taken aback.

The spider demon was the first to recover. 

“Hold up, hold the fucking phone.” He gestured with his glass, sloshing the contents around and making Husk growl and grab a rag. “You’re taking Smiles? As in, the Radio Demon, the former serial killer? Back to the place where he…ya know, serially killed?”

Charlie blinked—she hadn’t thought about it like that. 

“Can’t believe the pompous bastard even agreed to go, he likes bein’ in Hell.” Husk slammed his martini shaker onto the bar, maybe a little too hard. “He’s gotta have an angle.” 

“He doesn’t exactly blend in, ya know? Oozes that creepy staticy sound.” Cherri agreed, wiggling her fingers. 

“You all need to have a little faith!” Charlie huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “He’s my business partner. Besides! This is a chance to show even him that there’s beauty in redemption, in saving human souls!” 

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

A commotion from the main staircase drew everyone’s attention to a squealing red and brown blur tumbling down the steps. 

With a resounding crash, Niffty landed face-first on the lobby floor, an old leather suitcase sprawled beside her.

“Yeesh, you okay there, toots?” Angel winced. 

Niffty’s single, oversized eye blinked rapidly as she lifted her head, and then widened with a sparkle. “Pretty bad boy~” she cooed.

The group followed her gaze up, and a hush fell over the lobby. 

Descending the staircase with effortless grace was a man Charlie barely recognized. 

Gone were the ashen skin, the glowing red eyes, and the razor-sharp edges that made the Radio Demon look dangerous to touch. 

 In their place stood a strikingly handsome man with perfectly coiffed black hair, warm medium-brown skin, and intelligent dark eyes peering through round glasses above an actually pleasant smile. 

Alastor had arrived, and left the rest of the hotel’s residents speechless. 

“Where the hell did you get that look?” Husk, the skeptic, demanded, his eyes narrowed on his boss. 

 Adjusting his glasses, Alastor smiled wider, revealing a flash of sharp teeth. “Why, from a mirror about a century ago, my friend.” He replied, his voice still carrying that tinny, radio-like quality despite his appearance. “This is how I appeared before my, tragic and untimely death.”

“Tragic, huh?” Husk scoffed under his breath, already moved on to his next drink. 

Alastor spun his microphone staff with a flourish, shrinking it to the size of a fountain pen, before tucking it into the inner pocket of the black vest he wore. 

Angel, Cherri, and Niffty continued to stare openly, their jaws practically on the floor.

Alastor’s gaze slid to Charlie, and the princess felt her cheeks warm under the weight of those eyes. She tamped down the unexpected flutter in her chest. 

One of his eyebrows gave a little raise, almost like he was seeking her approval. 

Ha, no, this was Alastor. Get a grip, she scolded herself.

Angel let out a low whistle. “Holy fuck, I can see why folks followed you into dark alleys if ya looked like that back in the day,” He winked.

Charlie’s gaze flicked between them, a strange twinge in her chest.

“Still not happening, my effeminate fellow.” Alastor gave a high laugh, and stooped elegantly to pick up his suitcase. And set Niffty back on her spindly little legs. 

“Ah dammit.” Angel huffed, though it was good natured as his eyes slid back across bartop. “Worth a shot.” 

Cherri and Niffty were still ogling, shamelessly. 

Charlie clapped her hands together, trying to diffuse the tension that had settled over the lobby.

“Well! Isn’t this exciting?” she chirped, her voice a touch too high-pitched. “Dad will be here any moment to open the portal for us. Won’t this be fun, Alastor?”

The Radio Demon’s perpetual smile cooled slightly at the mention of Lucifer. “Indeed,” he replied, his tone carefully neutral.

Now that Charlie could push aside the distraction of his face, she realized what Alastor was wearing. “Um, Al? Don’t you think you’re a bit... overdressed for a casual trip?”

The others chimed in, eyeing Alastor’s vest, bowtie, and gloves critically.

“Yeah, ya look like you’re heading to a speakeasy, not a modern hotel,” Cherri remarked.

Alastor’s smile tightened. “I assure you, this is perfectly acceptable attire. Anyone who thinks otherwise needs to raise their standards.”

“C’mon Smiles, live a little. Lose the tie, roll up those sleeves.” Angel cajoled.

To Charlie’s surprise, Alastor actually seemed to consider it. 

“Very well. If we must adhere to modern sensibilities...” With a put-upon sigh, he began removing his gloves and untying his bowtie. 

Charlie found herself transfixed as Alastor pulled the ribbon of fabric from his collar, and then undid his sleeves, revealing the skin of his forearms. 

She’d never seen the Radio Demon with so much as a button undone. The casual gesture felt strangely…enticing.

“Charlie,” Husk’s gruff voice snapped her back to reality. “You’re only stayin’ the night, right? You’re packin’ like you’re movin’ in up there.”

 “Right! Of course. I’ll just... go do that now.” Flustered, Charlie tore her gaze from Alastor. 

As she hurried to reorganize her luggage, Charlie couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip was going to be far more complicated than she’d anticipated.

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

Charlie’s heart raced as she glanced at the clock. 

Any moment now, her father would arrive to open the portal. A flicker of worry crossed her mind. 

What if her dad made a scene about Alastor looking the way he did—he already despised the Radio Demon. 

She imagined Lucifer’s reaction to his daughter gallivanting off with such an attractive man to spend the night, by themselves, alone. 

Just then, a leather-bound book materialized on the bar with a pop, a duck-shaped sticky note attached to its cover.

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed, rushing over. “It’s Dad’s grimoire!”

Can’t make it in person, pumpkin! Portal inside. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! 

- XOXO Dad

Charlie sighed. “Well, that’s...convenient.”

As she flipped through the grimoire, Alastor approached, effortlessly hefting two of her larger bags. “Allow me, my dear,” he offered, his voice sounding strange coming from the handsomely human face.

“Thanks, Al,” Charlie murmured, distracted by the arcane text. She didn’t see Husk and Angel exchanging a look that was heavy with silent conversation. The cat tilted her head to him, and the spider demon nodded. 

With a flourish, the Princess recited the spell. A swirling vortex of light burst into existence.

“Ready?” Charlie asked, bouncing on her heels with excitement.

“After you,” Alastor gestured chivalrously.

Charlie beamed, grabbed her suitcase and purse, and leaped through the portal, Alastor stepping up close behind.

“Hold up,” Angel called out. “Where exactly are you two lovebirds headed?”

Alastor paused at the threshold, a sharp-toothed smirk spreading across his face. “New Orleans, of course. My old... hunting grounds.”

With that, he stepped through, the portal closing behind him.

 “Doesn’t he mean stomping grounds?” Cherri asked over his glass. 

Angel shook his head, taking a long sip of his martini. “Nope. He doesn’t.”

⚜️ Part 2 ⚜️ Two Nights, One Bed ⚜️

[oh-katsuki]

bird of prey (tendou x reader)

series masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tendou x Reader, Bokuto x Reader

Series Summary: Satori Tendou is your best friend, but you fuck for fun.

Chapter Title: Act I, Scene 1 — Play Like Lovers

Chapter Summary: Satori likes your current arrangement. You're friends, arguably the best of friends, and sometimes you fuck. Well, it's more than sometimes. Like rabbits, really.

Chapter Content Warnings: afab!reader, college au, friends with benefits, no strings attached, angst, oral sex (m!receiving), teasing, bokuto is in this too, ushijima mentions, mentions of breeding, mentions of pregnancy, slowish burn (?) they're already fucking tho so romantically speaking, teasing, dirty talk

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: i missed tendou and ended up deciding to write this. i don't have any chapters prewritten so updates will likely be slow, but im trying out a new thing so bear with me. it's probably better read on ao3, but im posting it here too. formatting is the bane of my existence. enjoy <3

next >

Satori likes the cold. He always has. He likes the bite of it. The way it makes his skin feel when he’s been standing outside long enough that the cold begins to feel hot across his cheeks.

There’s a certain solitude to winter that Satori appreciates. It’s as if the world has had a blanket thrown over it and everything becomes muffled and quiet. Sometimes winter makes Satori feel like he’s on another planet, floating through a silent universe in a perpetual winter. He especially feels this way when it snows. He loves the world when it’s like this, calm and quiet and so hazy that he can’t see the street sign a block down. 

Satori blinks winter from his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as they begin to water to fight the cold. He inhales, tucking his hands further into his puffy jacket as the crisp air fills his lungs. It’s a quiet night. The first snowy one of the season, and snowflakes fall like little diamonds onto a thinly coated sidewalk. 

He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind. Satori is just wandering, savoring the feel of the evening as he strolls through his neighborhood. There are a scant few people outside. It's a weeknight and the neighborhood surrounding campus is eerily quiet in these small hours of the morning. Only the occasional drunk or a couple loved up and leaning on one another, their hands intertwined in the pockets of one of their coats. 

Tendou thinks that he could only become one of those two options. The drunk seems to have far less to worry about, stumbling across the sidewalk before coming to a stop on a slanted curve and letting his head fall onto his crossed arms. Not that Satori would want to be him. Don’t get him wrong. He’s not judging. How one man lives his life is absolutely none of Satori’s business and, in the same way he prefers people don’t mind what he does, he won’t mind what the neighborhood drunk does. Still, on a sliding scale of difficulty, the drunk seems to—for the moment—have it easier in Satori’s eyes. Only one person to worry about. 

It’s nearing three in the morning and the world has taken on an eerily slanted feel to it. Satori likes the world like this, calm and quiet. No one to talk to or worry about, only the sound of his boots against the thin layer of snow. There’s no crunch, as it hasn’t stuck yet, but if it keeps snowing like this, Satori thinks that it might. He looks forward to it, tilting his head up toward the sky and feeling the soft sting of bitter cold snow as it falls on his cheeks. 

—

Teeth, tongue, the press of your body arching up to meet his. It’s hot today, the way you move. Rushed like you’re trying to get something done. Music plays quietly from your computer on the desk and your hands fumble blindly around his body, eyes screwed shut as you let your tongue explore the inside of his mouth. 

“You’re eager,” he coos, detaching himself from your lips. 

“Sh, sh, sh,” you mumble, pulling him back down to you by the back of his neck and delivering a sloppy kiss. “Keep your voice down.” 

“Why?” He asks back, still connected at the lips. 

“My housemates don’t know you’re here,” you answer, pushing on his shoulders. 

Tendou gives in, letting you turn him over on the bed so that his back is against your headboard. You settle over his hips evenly, placing yourself like you belong there. He wouldn’t be surprised if you felt that way. This is regular enough that you end up like this a lot. Straddling his thighs with your hands on either side of his face. 

You tilt your head, kissing your way down his jaw. Your lips press onto the side of his neck and he can feel the way your tongue darts out to taste the salt on his neck. Your hands roam freely up the other side of his neck and across the back of his head, almost like you can’t feel enough of him fast enough. They raised goosebumps along his skin, teasing the parts your mouth isn’t touching.

“And I don’t really want them to find out,” you say into his neck. Tendou feels the hum in his collarbone and shutters. 

“And why’s that?” He breathes out, his lithe fingers coming up to pull your hips down against him. Tendou figures that if you’re going to rock your hips back and forth like that, you might as well do it like you mean it. 

“They’ll give me shit for hooking up with you all the time instead of getting a real date,” you answer through your breathing. “Something about self respect.” 

Tendou leans his head back against the headboard, looking at you over the tops of his cheeks. You’ve pulled up his shirt and your body is curled over itself, your mouth smearing down his heaving chest as far as your posture will let it go.

He supposes that’s fair. 

“Suppose you haven’t told them that the no strings attached thing is mutual?” He teases, tilting his head to the side to let you continue to kiss at his neck. 

He slides his fingers under the fabric of your sleep shirt, cool fingertips hitting your warm back. Tendou presses his palm flat on your lower back and you shiver away from him, pushing your chest up against his. He likes the way you move. Something about it scratches an itch he’s got. Like watching marbles in a chain reaction. 

“I have,” you say, reaching between the two of you to undo his pants. Tendou slips his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants, cupping your ass in his hands. “They just don’t believe me.” 

“Hah,” he laughs, tilting his chin forward to kiss you again. He likes the way you taste. “That’s funny.” 

“Ugh, can we like,” you pull away from him, your eyes glazed over and your eyebrows furrowed. You keep one hand on the back of his neck, the other splayed on his chest and Tendou idly rolls the fat of your ass across his fingertips.

“Can we like, what?” He imitates through a grin, tilting his head. “Not talk about this?” You say, rolling your hips. “Because I really want to fuck you right now and it’s sort of killing my vibe.” 

Tendou chuckles at the way you drop your head and roll your hips against him, tipping his head back again as he lets out a low groan. 

“If it means we get to fuck then sure thing,” he drawls, guiding your hips over his crotch by the fat of your ass.

You groan, exposing the hollow of your throat to him as you lean backwards. Tendou leans up to meet you, placing his lips near your pulse point. He bites down on your neck lightly and savors the slight gasp you let out, salving the ache with a quick swipe of his tongue. You cling to him like velcro, rocking your hips over his hardened cock through your clothes. It’s so desperate that it’s almost juvenile, though you’re both well past the phase of being too prudish to not take them off. 

He sighs, sliding his hands from your ass and up your back. He cups your shoulders around your body, letting you move your hips against him. Tendou finds that he likes to let you do what you want. There’s really nothing you can’t take from him and as far as he’s concerned, nothing’s off limits. He’s playing a game and right now, letting you win is the most interesting option.

You reach between them to pick up where you left off, fumbling in his pants to palm at him over his boxers, still rocking your hips against the inside of your wrist. Satori groans lightly at the weight of your hand. He likes it. His dick just fucking fits. 

You slide your hand back and forth, teasing him the way that you know he likes it. God, in moments like these, Satori is convinced that you’re perfect. You and that perfect body, that perfect fucking pussy. All of it just sort of clicks. 

The sexual chemistry between the two of you is palpable. It really always has been. Even when the two of you swore up and down that you were just friends, Satori knew that eventually you’d fuck. And of course, he was right. Months later and here he is, leaning up against your headboard after sneaking in through the window while you give him an over-the-boxers handjob that feels better than what he can do to himself for some reason. 

You need it almost every night, and if it isn’t every night, it’s at least three times a week. You’re always together anyways, might as well throw some heavy petting into the mix while you’re at it. That’s just as well with Tendou. Personally, he’s always willing to fuck you if you need it. Especially when you need it. You just get this pretty look in your eye. It’s a lot like the one you’re wearing now, mouth slightly open as you free him from his boxers and swipe the precum from the tip of his dick with your thumb. Satori shudders. It’s perfect. 

“If you’re going to fuck me, you should just do it,” he says, his face contorting slightly as you grip his cock in your hand and begin to shift backward between his legs. 

“Shut up,” you retort, looking at him through your lashes. “I know you love this shit.” 

“Yeah, fuck-” he groans as you take the tip of him into your mouth. “You’re right. I love a tease.” 

Good conversation. Good sex. A good friend. There’s really nothing more he could ask for. 

Satori brushes the hair from your face, holding it back on your forehead so that he can see the way your mouth takes him in. It’s soft and warm and you hollow your cheeks around his cock in a way that drives him insane. You look so pretty down there. So giving and malleable. And get this, you do it because you like it. God, how fucking sexy. 

He likes the way you look from this angle, your eyebrows knitted together and your ass up in the air. He can see the way you rub your thighs together, small pulses that tell him that when he finally gets down there, you’re going to be soaked. You feel good too. Soft skin, soft mouth. 

Satori lets out a groan, reaching forward to play with the meat of your ass. He kneads the skin there, rubbing his thumb back and forth against it as if he were just trying to feel it. It hides your face from him for a moment and Satori is sad for the loss, but your ass is soft and giving and you push it back against his hand like you like the way he touches you. Of course you do, Satori only touches you in ways he knows you’re going to like. It gets him off. 

You swirl your tongue around his cock, your other hand gripping the base of him and moving along with your mouth. When you do try to take him all the way in, you cough lightly around it, raising your head to catch your breath before lowering your mouth back down. His lower stomach ties itself into knots. That familiar swell begins to mount in him and his muscles tense against his will. Your mouth works him until that slow moving wave pushes against whatever barrier it needs to break for him to finish. 

You stop before he gets to cum and Satori feels that swell of pleasure recede into the back of his gut. He pouts momentarily, his chest heaving as you discard your sweatpants and crawl back over him. 

Satori places his hand over your cunt like it's a habit. He rubs over your slick folds with four fingers, evening applying pressure across your whole pussy because he knows that it frustrates you. In response, you let out an exasperated groan and grind down against his hand. That only makes it better when he finally centers in on your clit, two fingers dipped between your lips to rubbing at the throbbing bud. 

He plays with it for a moment, moving his fingers in a continuous circle. You’re so wet that Satori doesn’t even need to lick his fingers, but he does anyway because he wants to taste you. Slowly, he raises them to his lips and sucks your pleasure off of them, eyeing you while he does so. Then, he places his other hand on your chin and gently forces your mouth open, sliding his two fingers across your tongue. 

The muscle gives under the weight of his fingers. Pleasantly, delightfully, you let him mold you. You let him open your mouth further and stick them deeper—all the way into the warm, wet back of your mouth—until you gag around them. It’s an awful sound. Wet and desperate and it leaves you panting when he pulls them out, but Satori likes you messy. He likes you when you’re drooling for it, saliva pooling under your tongue for just a taste of what he gives you. 

Don’t get him wrong, it’s not a power trip thing. It’s borne out of pure fascination. Like the way scientists like to study molecules, Satori likes to study you. You’re interesting to him. The first to follow through on sex only being sex because Satori—well, Satori fucks you like he loves you. And he loves that you don’t get caught up in it. 

You’re desperate for it today. Satori can tell because you don’t even let him finger you before you’re guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. 

“What? No condom?” He drawls through a sly grin. 

“Not tonight,” you pant, screwing your eyes shut. Satori’s hands move to your hips, squeezing the fat there and admiring its delightful give. “Don’t have one.” 

“What ever happened to safe sex?” He says through gritted teeth, craning his neck forward to get a good view. 

“You worried you gonna get me pregnant?” you give a breathy laugh, sinking all the way down on him. 

“Depends, you gonna let me finish inside?” he asks through a locked jaw as he feels the warmth of you envelop him. 

“Fuck no,” you say, beginning to move your hips. 

Satori inhales through his teeth, leaning backwards and holding you by the hips. You take the lead tonight, rolling your hips forward with slow, almost calculated, flicks. He guides you, his fingers gripping at the side of your ass, pulling it apart as best he can. He likes the way it feels when he holds you like this and wonders briefly what it looks like from the back when he lets you fuck him like this. 

The music from your laptop is drowned out by the quiet sounds of your breathing. The only thing Satori really hears is the both of you, stifling moans to prevent your housemates from figuring out what you’re up to. He grits his teeth. 

Satori has always been on the more vocal side of things. Talking, moaning, laughing, things like that. This though, this is hot too. Like this, he can hear every little change in your breathing. He can hear every time he hits that particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Shit, he can even hear his own breathing, labored and low and mirroring your desperation like you’re both cut from the same cloth. 

He loves being inside of you. It’s comfortable. It always feels good in a way Satori has found is hard to come by. You’ve got a good pussy and an even better attitude about it. 

When you get close, you always take in a sharp and fast inhale. It’s like a tell. Something that gives away just how good you feel. Satori loves the sound of it. Sometimes, he’ll edge you three or four times just to hear it, just to savor that sweet intake of breath. Tonight though, he’s going to let you have it easy. You deserve to have it easy tonight, as desperate as you are, and this is fun for him too. This position makes it easy to feel just how tight you get when you’re close, pussy clamping down around him at a fast interval even with the upward pumps of his hips. 

He’s too impatient to let you fuck him on your own. Satori lets you have it your way, but he wants it his way too, accenting the roll of your hips with subtle pumps. He grips your hips, his fingers sinking delightfully into the fat there and holds you at a good enough angle to fuck. The weight of your breath comes heavy, that little accent and then a slow crawl from your lungs. You shudder, mouth falling open. And Satori, well Satori watches. In fascination, in awe, in sheer pleasure. 

“Oh shit,” you breathe, glancing at him. “Yeah, yeah.” 

Oh, he loves that. Those little nothings that you babble when you’re breathless and climbing towards that high. Satori can’t get enough of it. Your voice, the cadence of it, how heavy it sounds on your tongue when you force out the sex-laced words. 

You crumble quickly. It’s almost desperate the way you push your hands onto his chest and let your head fall forward, cunt clenching down hard around him as you stop the roll of your hips to shudder. Your thighs press harshly against Satori’s sides and he digs his fingers into your hips to keep from cumming inside of you. That’d be pretty bad, though he can’t say that it’s not endlessly tempting. 

You don’t waste a moment pulling yourself off of him, wrapping your hand around is cum-slicked cock and beginning to pump. You squeeze the head of it and Satori lets out a low groan. God, you’re being so quick about this that it would almost be jarring if Satori didn’t find it so fucking hot. You’re like… desperate for it. Christ, he thinks he’s gonna cum. 

“Can I finish on your face?” He grits out. 

“No,” you reply, teasing him by pressing your thumb over the head of his dick. “On your chest. I like it when you make a mess of yourself.” 

Then, a familiar, teasing smile lights up across your face. Your breath is still heaving and it makes the expression feel more genuine. Satori leans his head back against the headboard eyebrows pulled upwards in his pleasure. 

“You’re fuckin’ sadistic,” he laughs out. 

It’s half a groan, his voice strained and thick with his imminent high. He reaches up to toy with your tits, anything really that he can grab. Satori gets handsy when he’s close and he feels the way pleasure mounts in his lower stomach like water fills a bucket. 

Then, he peaks, his cum spilling out over his chest. Satori makes an effort to muffle his voice when he does, gritting his jaw and squeezing the flesh of your tit as an outlet for the pleasure of it all. The mess he’s made is warm, spilling into the ridges of his abdomen and the soft lines of muscle there.He’ll have to shower again when he gets home. For the moment though, he just watches his chest heave as you let go of his dick and reach to put two of your messy fingers in his mouth. Satori obliges, swirling his tongue around them. 

“Hah, you’re disgusting.” 

“You’re the one who likes it, sweetheart,” he drones, reaching to take some tissues from the nightstand and wipe up his mess. 

“Throw those in the bin,” you say, laying down on your bed as he stands. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” 

Satori stretches for a moment, inspecting his clothes to ensure that the mess was minimal. He turns to look at you on the bed. Your eyes are closed, arms above your head with your sleep shirt riding up on your body, revealing a small glimpse of your fleshy stomach. God, he almost wants to fuck you again. 

“Move over,” he says, bullying his way into the bed next to you. 

“Fine, but you can’t stay for long,” you reply, lifting your head and putting it back down on his chest. You face the ceiling, picking at your nails. “I gotta shower and finish up a paper.” 

“You have a paper to finish but you called me over to fuck?” 

“Duh,” you reply. “Needed some sort of stress relief.” 

“Most people just eat a bowl of cereal or something,” he says through a smile, his lips curling up in the corners. 

You huff and roll your eyes, letting out a short and genuine laugh. “Whatever, you just can’t stay too long, ‘kay?” 

“You got it,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes lightly. 

Satori tucks his arm under his head, watching your ceiling fan as it spins in circles. He hates the ceiling in your room. You’ve got popcorn ceilings, something that Satori is particularly disdainful of. It’s why he likes having you over at his place, with its smooth and well painted walls. Plus, you can fuck as loud as you want and there’ll be no one there in the morning to hound you both over it. 

You can’t stay for long. 

He never really understood why you always tell him that. Even without it, Satori never really does. 

—

Satori’s morning routine isn’t really a routine at all. On days where he has nothing to do, he rolls out of bed at whatever time he pleases. Sometimes that’s 12 in the afternoon and other times that’s 5:30 in the morning. 

He tries his best to avoid early morning classes. Truthfully, he tries his best to avoid classes at all, but hey, when you’re getting a degree, that’s not really an option. Satori’s been relatively successful in that endeavor, keeping most of his class schedule well within the 11 am to 4 pm range, except for one pesky little discussion. Once a week, on Tuesdays, Satori has to drag himself out of bed and be in the classroom at 8 am sharp. 

It’s not that he isn’t driven, or isn’t a morning person. Satori just isn’t a rules person, which doesn’t exactly function well within a societal structure. There are always rules. Ones that tell you when to cross the road, where to park your car, when to be somewhere or when not to be somewhere. The fact that he has to get up early on Tuesdays makes him needlessly resistant to getting up, even if he’s awake already. 

Satori blinks away sleep in the quiet of his room. He’s woken up about fifteen minutes before his 6:50 alarm and now stares blankly at the ceiling with his arms tucked behind his head. What a drag, getting up like this and going immediately into the daily slog, not that anything can be done about it. 

He inhales, preparing himself to sit up, before actually doing so. His muscles scream at him, sore with sleep and aching for a good stretch which he gladly obliges with a loud yawn. Cartoonish, almost. Satori laughs to himself as he pulls his body from the bed. 

His room is messy. Clothes are strewn about haphazardly across the floor and various items that he’d picked up to mess around with are out of place. He exhales, shaking his head a little bit and telling himself that he’ll clean it when he gets back. It’s not that he minds the mess. In fact, Satori likes a little organized mess. Like what you and him are doing. That’s messy in the most delightful way. But right now, his room is a little too messy, verging on the precipice of dirty, which Satori hates. 

He tosses on a soft, long-sleeved t-shirt. It’s the kind of shirt that he’s had for a long while, the ones that feel smooth on his skin. The fabric is so worn that it falls over him almost like tissue paper and he loves the feeling. His black jeans are hanging over the back of his desk chair and he grabs them quickly, shrugging them on over his hips with two quick steps and a pull. The ink on them is faded and though they started their life black, they are now almost a dark gray and look even lighter at the knees and backs of the thighs. He thinks he’ll have to get a new pair soon. Gray doesn’t look as nice with other colors as black does. 

The sink in his bathroom is nearly empty, save for one single face wash, his toothbrush, and some toothpaste. He uses all of them in that order, hardly glancing up to look at himself in the mirror except to fix his scraggly long hair. He fiddles with it for a moment, running his fingers through minor tangles that worked themselves into his hair while he slept, before deciding that it looks good enough. The rest of it will sort itself out during the day and fall flat. 

His dish is in the sink from the night before and he briefly loads it into the dishwasher and runs it, chiding himself mentally with an eye roll for not doing it the night before. There’s always a 50/50 chance in the morning that Satori has forgotten to run the dishwasher and it antagonizes him as much as anything can antagonize Satori, which really isn’t much. 

There’s a black puffer jacket hanging by the door of his modest apartment. It’s a size too big for him, but it’s warm and looks nice on his figure, so he sees no use in telling his mother that she’d gotten the wrong size. It was a gift from her at the beginning of the winter season last year, along with a hat that Satori never wears. The jacket, at the very least, gets some use on account of it suiting his own personal style. 

He’s grateful for it when he steps outside of his apartment, shrugging it closer to him as the familiar bite of winter rushes up and under his skin. The sun has only just risen and the world is cast in a familiar orange, pink, and purple glow that makes it feel like a painting. Satori doesn’t mind being out in the world when it’s still asleep. Especially not in the early morning hours just before the sun comes up, when the world is cast in blue as if it were covered in film. Today though, it’s late enough that the world is now wide awake and the bustle of it gives Satori a headache. 

He passes businessmen on their way to work, girls in school uniforms rushing to make it through the gate of their school on time, their loafers smacking the floor with a delightful and intrusive clicking sound. His campus is only a few blocks away, around two corners and a straight shot until he hits the main building. He got lucky with his apartment’s location and sacrificed nice amenities for its proximity to his classes. The apartment itself may be crap, but Satori finds it worthwhile for how near it is to the things he cares about. That, and it doesn’t have popcorn ceilings, thank god. 

The snow hasn’t stuck yet, which means that the sidewalk is damp with melting ice as the sun begins to warm the pavement beneath it. His shoes will get damp like this. The converse do little to repel the water, instead soaking it in like a sponge. He’s careful to avoid puddles, but should he hit one, Satori won’t dwell. They’ll dry at some point. 

He can see the school up ahead. Satori isn’t really a fan of the building style. They’re stuffy and a bit reminiscent of the industrial buildings just outside of the Sendai city limits, but Tohoku University is a good school and Satori thinks it would have been a waste to not accept his admission. As the buildings grow closer, Satori can see the bodies of students wandering. Some talk in small groups and others, the more independent of them, walk hurriedly to their classes with heavy backpacks slung over both shoulders. Their backs curl forward a little, feeling the pressure of the weight.

Right through the quad, through the double doors, and up to the second floor. That’s the path Satori needs to take to get to his classroom, though he’s about 10 minutes early. He pauses just outside of the building, tilting his head to the side as he spots a familiar silhouette. A smile creeps onto his face, lips curling in the corners as he recognizes you. 

You’re having a conversation with someone, though Satori can’t quite make out who exactly it is. They’re standing partially behind one of the trees, their broad figure concealed by the trunk of it. As he approaches, he recognizes the other person to be Bokuto Koutarou, one of the core members of the university’s volleyball team. What an odd pair to be seen together, and so early in the morning too. Then, Bokuto leans down and pecks you on the cheek and Satori is more confused than he’s been in a while. When did you get close? When did you start seeing him? 

A pit forms in his stomach, though not the kind he’s familiar with. Messy, messy. 

“Bokuto, huh?” he says as he approaches behind you, watching with you as the other man walks away. “When did you and him get so… close.” He drags out the last word, hissing out the S through a small smile. 

“That,” you start, “is none of your business. It just sort of happened.” 

Satori gives you a coy smile, tilting his head in your direction. 

“Does he know?” He questions genuinely. 

“Know what?” 

“About us,” he croons, leaving no room for misinterpretation. 

You give him a pointed glance, an eyebrow raised. He knows the look. It’s the one you give him when he’s said something stupid or far too obvious. 

“We,” you emphasize, “are friends.” 

“Oh yeah,” he nods, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning back as he follows your step. “We’re really good friends. And we fuck for fun.” 

You laugh. It’s a shrill laugh, and totally comfortable. He can’t see an ounce of tension in your shoulders and they’re relaxed in the way they usually are when the two of you speak. Satori looks down at you over the tops of his cheeks and a sly grin spreads across his face. 

“Well,” you say, though it seems to not have any real purpose in your sentence. It’s almost like an admittance that he’s right, which he knows he is. “What does it matter if he knows, anyway? What’s there to know?” 

Satori stops walking, his hands buried deep into his pockets. His head hangs forward and his jaw is open in faux confusion. The strain in his neck posing like this is worth the smile you give him, he thinks. 

“That we fuck,” he states, saying it almost as if it’s a shock to him as well. 

You stop to  roll your eyes and Satori quite likes the way that the expression looks on you. Fed up, but pleasantly so. It gives your features a somewhat light, carefree sense. You look away from him for a moment, almost as if to accentuate just how nonsensical his manner of speaking is, before looking at his face and narrowing your eyes. You size him up and then give a small grin, almost mischievous in nature. 

“He suspects,” you say. “But it doesn’t seem like he thinks too hard about it. I think he might if we were like… ex’s or romantically involved, but we’re not, so,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s not serious enough for him to mind yet.” 

“Yet?” Satori raises his eyebrows and gives you an incredulous smile. 

Despite his demeanor, he feels something odd. It’s almost like his stomach is about to drop, and an unsettling feeling of dread begins to loom over him. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, impossibly pretty eyes giving him a very square look in the face.

“Yet,” you confirm, your tone a bit sharp as if to warn him that he’s stepping too close to the line. 

He’s not sure what he’s done to warrant that kind of reaction. Satori thought that he’d come off rather disconnected, aloof in the way that your agreement is, but it’s entirely possible that he’d sounded insecure. He furrows his brows at you, almost like he’s confused himself, and then shrugs in a non committal way. 

“Right,” he says, beginning to spin on his heel in an exaggerated manner. “Well, you have fun with Mr. Center-Of-Campus,” he smiles, continuing his sentence,” and I… will be going to my photography lab discussion.” 

“You do that,” you laugh, putting up a hand to wave. “I’ll catch you later.” 

“I’m sure you will,” he says, to which you respond by giving him a tired look and a shrug, like you’re admitting to the implication that you just can’t go without it. It being whatever the hell kind of sexual relationship exists between you two. 

Neither he nor you turns behind to glance at the other. Satori starts off back in his original direction and you dip into the building next to his. He’s sure that if he looked, you’d have your fingers looped through the straps of your backpack, probably greeting someone or other that you know on campus. 

You’re popular in a way that Satori isn’t. Truthfully, Satori is more notorious than liked and people know him for his strange, roundabout way of speaking and the knowing look in his eye. It doesn’t bother him to think that. He’s heard the way people talk about him, either directly from you or from walking up to a conversation a few moments too early. It doesn’t suit anyone to pretend that he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really mind knowing. It helps to weed out the people he wants to be around versus the people he doesn’t.

You, however, are very well liked. Sociable and blunt in your way of speaking. People like being around you, not just because you’re easy to look at, but because you’ve got a casual demeanor about yourself that makes people feel unjudged and at ease. It’s actually one of the first things that Satori had ever noticed about you, the way that you settle into a conversation as if you’d always been meant to be a part of it. No need to switch subjects or guide it to a more suitable position, you seem to blend effortlessly into social scenes, whether you notice it or not. Maybe it’s because you’re very true to yourself. You don’t recognize yourself as a perfect person and, as a result, you never hold the expectation that someone else should be perfect. 

Satori thinks you’re like-minded in that way, though his interpretation of other people’s flaws is more rooted in his treatment by others. People are quick to judge and in all his years of being judged, Satori has just come to accept that that’s the way things are and he can’t blame humans for simply being human. Still though, he has the same idea that people’s flaws aren’t a reason for judgment. They just… exist and that’s fine. 

He slides into a desk along the wall, quickly glancing around the room at the people who have already filed in. He’s only a few minutes early and most of his class are already in their seats with their cameras on their desk. Satori doesn’t know many people in this discussion and the majority of his class is either made up of girls that are too afraid to introduce themselves, or pretentious boys who spend too much time thinking about what tortured artists they are and too little time on the actual composition of their photos. 

He wishes that Ushiwaka had been able to take this class with him. Satori had suggested that he try to enroll at the beginning of the spring semester, but with the class being an upper division, Ushiwaka didn’t have the previous coursework to be able to do it. Besides, Wakatoshi isn’t really in school for the classes, but rather because he’d been scouted by the campus’ volleyball team to play for them and Wakatoshi had gone because it was a good opportunity to get into the professional division. In that sense, Satori feels that he’s falling behind his friend. After all, Wakatoshi knows what he wants, but Satori only knows what he likes. 

This class is pretty irritating. Not just because he has to get up and leave for it at the asscrack of dawn, but also because he feels that the discussions lack any real insight. Every week, they’re expected to upload their photos onto their computers and bring them to class, then, they spend the entire hour going around and discussing goals for the project and what could be improved with their current techniques. It would be useful if Satori didn’t find that so many people half-assed their photos the day before and then brought them in with some made up philosophy on why the snow in the crack of the sidewalk symbolizes their incessant need for human connection. 

He doesn’t think this way because he’s innocent of half-assing. In fact, Satori half-asses a lot. Sometimes because he can’t be bothered and other times because he finds the work less valuable than something else he could be doing. Still, he likes taking pictures and this is a class centered entirely on developing a personal work portfolio. It’s easy for him to do the assignments because it’s essentially what he does in his free time anyway, so there are times when he feels that maybe these people just don’t care too much about school at all. That’s a fine thought to have, he thinks. Most artists think like that in some way or another. 

Satori wonders if it’s the same in your major. Do literature students phone it in and do you find it irritating? He thinks you probably aren’t bothered by it if they do. It wouldn’t be in your nature to get worked up over the actions of others. You hardly even get worked up over your own actions and he thinks it would be weird to see you get in your head over someone else. 

He sits through his class though, explaining the photo he’d taken of you in the early morning after you’d spent the whole evening talking and touching each other. Your face is obscured and your belly is pressed down against the mattress. It’s really only an off centered photo of your back, displaying the lovely curve of it against the crumpled white bed sheets and a bit of your hair. There may not be anything special about the photo to anyone else, but Satori remembers how badly he’d wanted to photograph you then. 

Intimacy is pleasant to him in small doses. He likes to play pretend when it comes to loving and he’ll touch you like he loves you, let you touch him like you do, but Satori doesn’t ever think he’ll do it for real. At least not right now when he is so consumed by catching up to his peers in some arbitrary way. Still, the picture is a pleasant reminder to him that intimacy exists even in the most mundane of moments. Arguably, it is most present in them. 

He doesn’t say all of this to his class though and someone describes the photo as almost pornographic, which he supposes that it is. It gives the impression of two people just after they’ve gone to bed together and he laughs to himself because that’s exactly what it is. Satori just shrugs his shoulders at the comment. That’s just about what your physical relationship to each other is, isn’t it? Almost pornographic in nature, indulging in each other the way lovers might without ever stopping to think if romantic love factors into the actions at all.

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh? ( Logan howlett x reader) part 5

Summary: a bored y/n leads to a choas filled result as she running through the mansion fight with technology, piotr finally expresses his guilt for not being there to help her when they were kids and revealing more than he intended to

Warning : goofy , angsty , mentions of violence and abusive past , Google translated Russian ( feel free to correct me ) , grammatical errors , slowish burn

Previous part

Restless maybe was what she was feeling , each day was both a reminder she was free but it was almost the same as the one before. She would help some of the teachers and professors set up Before lessons , head to the living room for bit Then her greenhouse. Read a little , tend the plants then dinner time . Each night she would fail to sleep and end up in the kitchen Or garden with logan chat about anything while She drank her tea and He drank a beer or glass of whiskey. She enjoyed It but it was the same over and over so now she felt restless and in that Feeling she felt guilty like she should be grateful Either way for it all . She walked down the halls admiring the ark work that adorned the walls til she found a room she not been in she tried the door to find it unlocked , she walked in hitting the light seeing it was a gym probably her brothers favorite room in the mansion considering every time she seen him he was sweaty even when he was in his other form . Almost inspecting the equipment as she passed by the machinery . She spotted a dummy only it was different it had buttons all along the side of it which she at that point should of left alone considering she could barely read English writing most of books gotten for her where in Russian if not all of them . Yet the curiosity got the better of her turning it on she turned the dial to ten as the thing stood up making her jump up . What she didn't expect was for it to start circling her like she was prey and it was the hunter . In a spilt second it lunged at her make her almost fall backwards to get out of the way , then it kicked her sending her across the gym crashing into the wall . A groan she got up and shut the door maybe if she got someone they could turn it off only for the thing to pull the door off the hinges . She took off down the hall and it took off after her throwing thing it found on its way to try deter her from getting away .

“ дерьмо , дерьмо ,дерьмо ( shit , shit ,shit)” she cursed running down the hall. Running to the main area she seen rogue coming out to see what the commotion was.

“ get help” was all y/n could get out of her mouth before she dodged the murderous robot Coming at her sending the now wide eyed woman in search of just that . Knocking her to the ground as it went to punch her she moved the robotic fist hitting the ground smashing the Floor mere inches From her skull .

“ хорошо, моя очередь ( ok my turn)” she narrowed her eyes sending a kick to the Metal chest pushing it back so she could get to her feet . Flipping Over the seemly angry robotic dummy She kicked it back sending it into the wall only for it to keep Coming . Soon she was catching it movement , knowing when to dodge and when to hit not once in the seemly Dance she was tangled Up with did she even consider Using her powers or the fact a crowd Now build watching the whole thing. She jumped on it shoulders as it fist flew Trying to get Her when she finally hit the power off button jumping Off The things shoulder to the ground panting finally seeing them stand around .

“ who the fuck thought to have this thing in a building full of kids” she asked looking down at the now lifeless dummy.

“ you ok?” logan asked.

“ other then demon robot Trying to kill Me , peachy” she stood before hitting the ground matching the dummy .

“ ok shows over back to class” he chuckled Heading over picking Her up . “ you can hold your own bub” he carried Her off to her room ignoring jean telling him to bring her to the med wing .

She shoot Up panting , sweating a common way for her body To walk realizing she was not in the common area as she took in the interior of her room. The plain Room bar Few drawing the kids had giving her that is .

“ welcome Back to the land of the living rocky?” A voice called making her head turn to see logan holding one of her books.

“ you can read in russian” her voice rasped .

“ not a clue , how you feeling” he asked putting it down.

“ all healed , what the hell was that thing?” she stretched out really she wasn't lying she didn't feel any pain at all .

“ training dummy keeps us in shape when on missions , impressive work out there how come you didn't use your powers” he asked.

“ well you know I didn't get a chance to think of them when it was trying to kill me” she rolled her eyes heading to her closet needing to get out the clothes now felt well sweaty.

“ where you learn to fight like that” he asked watching as she walked to bathroom.

“ learn myself to do it , knew I would need more to protect the kids” she yelled out pulling the wet material off of her body seeing a faint remainder of a bruise still there but in fairness it did kick her across the gym. “ learned from the men when they beat me too” she walked out seeing him still sitting there.

“ your not bad , not at all could use some pointers” he shrugged standing walking to her door holding it open for her .

“ I don't use it that often on to defend me or others” she said easily.

“ if you want I can help you out , just some tips” .

“ ok once its not with that thing though” agreeing because if she was honest with herself it was kinda fun.

“ not robot, just Me and You like sparring” he smiled as they entered The dinning Room.

“ OK we spar “ she headed to her seat.

“ hey rocky how are you “ bobby asked.

“ why do you call me that , logan too” her head tilted .

“ its a movie you know the boxer .. nevermind “ he said seeing as none of it was registering With her.

“ I am fine , I will fix The broken stuff or work to replace it” she looked to the professor .

“ not at all , once you are unharmed It's the main thing although I am sorry we didn't warn you before hand”.

“How come you didn't use your powers ?”

“ I Didn't think of them when it was swinging at my head” she ate The food as she Could physically see the cogs turning Inside their Heads . “ anything else?” She looked Around The room .

“ what made you turn the dial to ten couldn't you see the warnings?” Bobby Spoke up .

“ I can't read English that well now let me eat” she glared feeling A little embarrassed .

“hey less yapping more eating” .

Once again she was looking around her room only this time it was covered in vines and there was thumping on the doctor , screaming for her go answer . She pulled the door Open it wasn't the mansion It was the cage , the same metal Bars She stared at day in and day out . The feeling Of a electric shock hitting her skin making her fall to her knees feeling it course through out her body Hitting ever nerve In her , she biting Her Lip that much the copper metallic taste danced on her taste buds . Only thing she was grateful For was she was only one in the cage .

“ enough” it called out . “ my little lab bunny finally Awake” he taunted.

“ your not real” she gritted only for the shock to happen.

“Not necessarily Wrong bunny but I'm a part of you know , I'm the one who truly know the monster you are” he was laughing.

“ he's wrong dear Come on Follow my voice” .

“ you see how they see you , when you watch them being taken” .

“ you paralyzed me keep the knife in so I could not move” she gritted.

“ they’re not there , follow my voice dear don't listen To him” professor sat watching over Her sleeping for the screams Were louder transferring To reality. “ it not working she Is prisoner to her own subconscious , piotr Any thing that helped when she was a child” the professor Asked .

“ a song our grandmother would sing” he asked feeling rather useless lately to help her.

“ may I?” Charles asked for the man to nod . Eyes close as he was almost transfer the memory from one sibling to the other.

She felt something shift , the line of the things around her blur , the cage Switching between The metal she knew To the fire She used to sit At . She seen stryker words muffling as the melodic Humming on her grandmothers voice filled her ears , the wrinkled Hand around her shoulder and the smell of lavender soap filled her senses . She was home , back on the rural farm she missed so dearly one that even though it wasn't the biggest or the fanciest it was the place she knew a Beloved One . her Tense body relaxing almost instantly and she savored the moment , the feeling , the everything. Was only then it was fading , only then her body Was listening and she began opening her eyes. She was sweating and crying but she was scared this time . She sat Up and look To see the blurry figure Being push out of the room and four small ones coming towards Her clinging on to her .

“ we will keep you safe Sister” Ana Muffled voice hit Her ears.

“ we love you” luka head rested On her shoulder .

“ that's my job” she said softly kissing their heads . “ I am OK just bad dream , go to bed” she smiled softly as they reluctantly left Harry clinging to her little more but eventually Left .

“ you both share same happy memories more of you in his ” charles looked between siblings.

“ I've have an Amazing grandmother, but I have an even more amazing big brother” .

“ Я подвел тебя( I failed you)” his eyes fell to the ground Not willing to look At her .

“ Ты думал, что я умер, ты оплакивал меня. ( you thought I was dead , you mourned me)” she stood , coming in front of him hand on his arm .

“ Я должен был искать тебя, видел их ложь. ( I should of been looking for you , I should of seen their lies) “ his eyes filled with guilt and sadness that matched his words . “ Мне не следовало тебя оставлять.( I shouldn't have left you )” .

“ Тебе было шестнадцать, ты был ребенком( you were sixteen ,child yourself )” trying to show the guilt he had was misplaced that it shouldn't have been there at all .

“ Если бы я увидел их сейчас, я бы не смог сдержать слов. ( if I seen them now I might not be able to keep it To words ) “ she watched as he started pacing , the anger Building . “ их никогда не волновало, кому они причиняют боль, и до сих пор не волнует( they never cared who they hurt , they still Dont)” .

“ что ты имеешь в виду?(what do you mean ?) “ her brows furrowed. Was he saying what she Thought he was.

“ ты знаешь, какие они ( you know what they're like)” he pause only then he realize what he said .

“ they are alive” her voice and expression unreadable , her stare no longer comforting .

“Yes Here is new york” .

“ I want to see them” Everything about her in that moment told him that no wasn't even in the realm of possibilities of an answer.

part 6

Taglist : @oscarissac2099 @ayamenimthiriel @mega-kittyglitter-1

[cher-rei]

afterglow pt- 13 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, fluff, slowish?? burn and just a good time

[wc: 5.3k] afterglow masterlist

notes: rahhhhhh!!!

spamjam._.

liked by liverpoolfc and 3 244 225 others

spamjam._. may 24th anyone? [tagged: taylorhinds]

view all comments below

taylorhinds 👀💜 [liked by spamjam._.]

liverpoolfc collab of the century I fear

→ spamjam._. if you know, you know 🤞🏻

user collab?? are they doing a photoshoot together or something?

→ user probably, you know how jamie is and her random promo photoshoots for brands 😭

→ user take back to the adidas shoot last year omw

→ user life was so much easier back then

virgilvandijk oh, so you were serious? 😂

→ spamjam._. I had a 10 hour board meeting yesterday for this. don't test my commitment 🙄

trentarnold66 she's a baller 🥵 [liked by spamjam._.]

harvelliot LET'S GO!! COUNT YOUR DAYS ON THAT PITCH

fía.messi bro has me flying over for this 😭 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. I couldn't get your dad so I had to settle for the next best thing (and mateo is only 10 so I had to choose you 😔)

"what's the date today?"

"the 23rd," laura answered promptly and went back to typing something on her laptop while the rest of your media team carried on with their personal tasks in the meeting room.

you stood at the whiteboard in front— a black marker in one hand and your ipad in the other as you wrote out and marked certain dates down and finalised a few things.

"okay." you tapped the marker on your chin and took a step back from the board, gaining everyone's attention. "those pictures are up for the efl final, but I'm going to need a date for next week for my meeting with the set designers and stylists because I have a few ideas for the launch."

sienna, another member of your media team was quick to check her calender, her email set up on her desktop. "you're good for march 4th if we're set to release the shoot may 7th."

you bit the inside of your cheek as you thought for a moment. "put it down. I'd also like an update on the news for the boss' special collection and," you wrote down something under the title national duty. "I need the flags ordered asap."

the room fell silent after that, everyone in their own headspace while the sound of keyboards clicking sounded through the room. you wanted to make next season's kit release a big one, the board giving you three words to ride off of and the mock design for the kit a few months ago.

you quite liked the tribute to the design and after consulting a few close professionals (sophia and alexandra) there was an idea of what you were going for. the idea of a more sophisticated look and aesthetic ran through your mind, the question of how would you style the jersey yourself playing a role.

"moped," you blurted which got you a few strange looks. "I want a moped for the shoot."

logan, who was silent for most the of the meeting eyed you for a second. "like the scooter?"

"the bike from that one disney movie?" laura followed and pulled up her pinterest page, moving her laptop to show you and you nodded, writing it down under the kit launch column on the board.

"I want it in red and maroon and see if they can get the jersey design on it," you said while tieing up your hair because this was oh so obviously only the beginning of the meeting.

you had been so busy the past few hours, confined between four walls that the only sunlight you were getting was the light emitting from the passage through the simgular glass wall of your meeting room that overlooked the second floor. your phone was probably buzzing with messages from clara asking you when you were free for your lunch break but that was the last of your worries.

but eventually something caught your attention from the corner of your eye as you stood in front of your team, going over some extra details. "the videographers are working on it currently so all we nee--"

you paused mid-sentence, the glimpse of a figure strolling past the room catching your attention for a moment. "uhm, all we need is to check if..."

they walked past again, only this time at a pace that was definitely noticeable. normally you would've disregarded trent's childish behaviour in the middle of work but everyone was growing agitated and needed a break.

you flicked your attention from your team to trent who was strolling along with his hands in his pockets, only to come back a second time, then a third until your team gradually noticed him. your lips drew into a thin line as he sent them a small wave, pretending to be busy.

"okay, everyone we can take a break." you set the markers down, their thankful sighs of relied making you laugh. "I'll see you in 45, okay?"

the seven of your team members flooded out the door in no time, leaving you alone while trent waited until they were out of sight to finally enter the room. he walked up you the whiteboard beside you, trying to act as if he knew what any of the writing meant while you continued to joy a few things down.

"don't try anything, the walls are literally made of glass," you said unbothered without taking your attention off of the work in front of you.

from beside you trent mocked an expression of hurt, offended that you'd accuse him of coming here just to do something. "I wasn't going to. I came here because I just happened to be walking by after our gym session," he answered, the lie dripping off his tongue effortlessly and you gave him a look.

you didn't respond, instead becoming immersed in your work once again. the marker in your hand moved between the spaces of your fingers, a pout forming on your lips as you concentrated.

don't get him wrong, trent found it extremely attractive that you were in your element— your hair messily tied up, the marker in your hand spinning between your fingers and the look of determination on your face made him crazy. but he was just a man after all and wanted to spend some time with his... free trial user.

with a sigh he sat down at the desk, spinning aimlessly on the chair to try and cure his boredom. he hated this— referring to the lack of privacy in the room because the blinds were open. suddenly, he perked up at the sound of your voice, but to his dismay, you weren't talking to him and were on the phone with someone he didn't care about.

"yes, I'd like to keep them neutral but you can have a selection and we can test them out on the day of the shoot," you said and hurried back to the whiteboard to write something down.

the sound of the marker squeaking on the board made trent cringe, that and he wished that you'd just sit down for one second. when the call ended, you felt the his eyes on you, a look of judgement perhaps? but what did he expect? you were at work and had to get things done.

"someone's cranky," you joked while flipping through a binder.

he threw his head back with a scoff. "well yeah, you're not even looking at me. you probably don't even care that I'm here right now."

really now? you rolled your eyes at his exaggeration, a smile dancing on your lips. "a lot needs to be done before the end of the month unfortunately and I'm kind of in charge of that." you scrunched your nose at the last part, the feeling of admitting that you were in charge sending a weird surge through your body.

tent pursed his lips, his look softening at the way you continued to flip through the binder, mumbling to yourself about not finding something. "I know but--"

"--there aren't any 'buts'." you put your hands on your hips, sending him a stern look to showcase your point. "you're supposed to be focusing on recovering. it's already an issue that you won't be playing sunday, we need you fit for the last few games of the season at least."

the room fell silent again, slight tension building up but you didn't care because it was the truth. it wasn't just him— it was curtis, darwin, mo and dominik as well. a few of their most crucial players were injured and unfortunately that make their chances of winning slimmer. and as excited as everyone was to play on sunday— the kids included even if they only got about five minutes of playtime, but this was still a final.

the coaching staff was agitated, virgil didn't know how if the chelsea squad were going to put up a fight and the injured players were beating themselves up. it wasn't an easy time for anyone right now, but they needed to focus. and right now, it seemed that trent wasn't getting the message.

it was unlike him, and you could see from the way that his leg anxiously bounced up and down that he knew that. so as much as you needed to reprimand him and remind him of what needed to be done, you could also tell that he wasn't okay.

with a sigh, you put down your things and went to lock the office door and close the blinds. the room was encapsulated in slight darkness again, prompting you to switch on the overhead lights that weren't needed earlier on.

trent remained quiet though, even when you came to sit down on the table in front of him. you looked down at him, the footballer leaning back in the chair.

"talk to me, what's bothering you?" your voice was laced with genuine worry and it made him ease into his seat further.

"nothing's wrong. I just wanted to see you but I guess it's a bad time." he plainly shrugged his shoulders, a look of mock dismissal on his face.

you quirked an eyebrow at his answer. "that's the worst lie you could've come up with right now." despite your targeted response you gently took his hand into yours and prompted him to speak. "is it because you're benched for the rest of the month?"

"yes and no," he said, looking up at you. "yes because I let the team down when they need all the help they can get. this is important to all of us and ever since my stupid knee happened I've been acting up."

he didn't need to mention it, but he was referring to the match against burnley where he was subbed off at halftime. you knew that it took a toll on his confidence, both on and off the pitch. there wasn't much you could do unfortunately besides comfort him.

"don't look at me like that," he groaned and leant forward to rest his head on your thigh, the embarrassment sinking in. "I sound so emotional, my ego is buried six feet under right now."

you stifled a laugh at his retort and let your hands run gently up and down his back. "it's okay. I'll ask harvey to pick it up for you, it's not a problem for him."

trent couldn't help but laugh, the feeling of his fingers trialing your thigh sent a shiver through your body. the two of you held that position for a bit longer, the feeling of being near each other enough to ease your respective anxiety.

"you're going to get better okay?" you said softly and he hummed in response. "whatever happens, happens but you need to do what you can. that's all that matters, so for now you're going to be the best bench warmer ever and support your team."

it was the day of the efl final and the team was ready— standing ready with their mascots at their sides in the tunnel that you were running through to make some last minute checks.

maya messaged earlier on in the day to say that they'd be at the match today and you couldn't wait to see them again after such a long time, especially alex who was apparently extremely excited to be here.

today more than ever you wore your liverpool jersey proudly only to be called out for wearing it by a familiar face. you just finished wishing the team goodluck when a chelsea player caught your attention in the line beside you.

you eyes rolled at the sound of the voice but you turned to look at him nonetheless, the smile on your lips slightly forced. "colwill."

levi put out his hand for you to take into a friendly handshake, a cheeky smile on his face as he looked you up and down. "It's always weird to see you in anything other than blue. you switching sides for the day?"

the backhanded comment was obviously a joke, it was natural for the two of you to have banter like this despite the fact that it had been years since you last talked to each other. from the line beside you, harvey was shamelessly watching the back and forth.

it made no sense to him that you always knew someone. in every situation and match of theirs, there was always someone that you knew.

you scrunched your nose at levi, not liking the idea of wearing a chelsea jersey. "we'll leave those blue days of mine at the academy thanks. good luck for today though, you're going to need it."

levi stifled a laugh at your goodbye and watched as you left the tunnel, old memories flooding back but never staying.

"academy?" harvey asked out loud, not meaning for levi to hear but he did and nodded. when he told harvey that you played for the chelsea academy before you left london it raised some intrigue amongst the reds on his side.

judging by their facial expressions he could tell that it wasn't something you liked to talk about. "she got called up a bunch of times for the first team but never took the offer. first time around she was 15."

there was no other reaction from harvey other than an irritated groan, his head shaking to the side as they started to make their way out of the tunnel. "she's lived 100 lives I'm telling you."

from behind him, andy hurriedly shushed him, the laugh barely staying inside because of the strange encounter. but harvey was right— it felt like you've lived 100 lives because there was a piece of you everywhere, a piece of you imprinted within the memory of so many people.

"the carter effect," harvey mumbled to himself with slight distaste as he stood in his position on the pitch waiting for the whistle to blow.

agonising. that's how you'd describe the first of the match. it was like a game of tennis— back and forth but the team was showing resilience against chelsea and their 10 man defence strategy. the man to man marking made you want to scream, because this was not the strategy of a team that knew that they were going to win.

"fucking cowards," you muttered under your breath and jayden danns— one of the kids who were newer to the first team bench, gave you a look.

feeling his judgemental gaze on your side you looked at him with widened eyes, gesturing to the pitch. "it's the truth. you can't play football like this, it's disgraceful."

from the seat beside you, bobby clark, another one of the children (as you liked to call them) spoke up and asked you about how long the chelsea squad could play defence. there wasn't a definite answer on your side as you sat with your hand on your chin in thought.

eventually, it had all the kids in thought, all five of the boys that you were looking after watching with determined eyes to see if there was a break in chelsea's defence.

"the only forward who they're expecting to score is palmer," james said and you scoffed, the rest of the bench chiming in to talk about cole palmer's recent performance and how it's been saving chelsea a ton.

spamjam._. added to their story!

amongst the chatter, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. the name that popped up on your notification center made you smile— trent who was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players.

the last few minutes of the first half played out in a way that had your blood boiling. conor who was starting in trent's position today was playing exceptionally well for his first official start for the team, but someone else saw that as a threat apparently.

one shove from ben chilwell on conor had you out of your seat in an instant. the two players managed to fall on top of each other because of conor's honest tackle, and ben chilwell saw it as a challenge for something more.

seconds away from half time and a fight was about to break out and naturally the liverpool players tried to stop it, with a few players feeling provoked (cody and harvey). luckily it was broken up before anyone got seriously hurt, but by then you were already on the touchline alongside jurgen waiting to jump in.

the half-time whistle blew and you watched with distaste as they walked into the tunnel. instead of going up to the press room like you normally would, you decided to take a quick trip into the stands where the injured players were. you were alone today, and for another 4 months because clara was officially on maternity leave.

she was nearly 5 months into her pregnancy, but you still couldn't get behind your stupidity and not noticing any sooner. the signs were blatantly obvious but you thought it was normal— the loose clothing, strange cravings and her mood swings were nothing out of the ordinary.

she was doing well though, and was staying with her parents for the time being or at least until the season was over so that she could go back home with mason. at least she had stability, that's what mattered most.

"nice of you to visit us," curtis sarcastically greeted as you stood on the outside of the barricade. "I see the boys are treating you well."

it was clear that he was mocking you so you flashed him a tight lip smile. what the kids were doing was asking you questions about anything that came to mind— why you decided to work in marketing? was it true that you and trent were dating? (which you denied obviously)? who would win in a fight, a shark or a tiger? and funny enough you recalled jobe asking you the same question a while ago.

"a shark or a tiger?" he asked with a challenging smile.

your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at jude next to you, who shared the same expression of confusion. "well where's the fight happening?" you asked jobe who made it clear that he didn't like the follow up question.

he pulled a face at you, "what do you mean where's the fight?"

his question left you and jude speechless, his older brother trying to prompt his understanding of the situation further but jobe was stubborn and didn't care about the logistics of the scenario.

"it depends on where the fight is," jude said and you nodded. "they live in different environments entirely so it matters."

jobe rolled his eyes at the question, almost as of it were ridiculous. his shoulders tensed up and he leant forward on the chair he was sitting on. "yeah, but who would win the fight, this isn't about the environment."

you stifled a laugh, in further disbelief. "jobe where is the fight? where is it happening?"

"that's not the point!"

you couldn't stay to chat long to trent's dismay. he couldn't even hold your hand and the look of despair on his face said it all. but you agreed on keeping it on the low, no physical contact in public because there were always cameras around.

you flashed him a smile and waved before heading back to the bench just in time. a sigh of exhaustion leaving your lips at the thought of another 45 minutes of back and forth.

it was around the 60' minute when something built up, having you on the edge of your seat and holding your hands together in prayer and desperation until the ball finally hit the back of the net. however your rejoice didn't last long because once again, the referee was checking for offside.

you stood with your hands in the air in shock, utter hatred for the decision alone. "that wasn't offside at all! what the fuck kind of decision is this?"

the rage and irritation in your tone only grew when the referee called it, your scream drowning out in the sea of groans from the supporters. if it wasn't for james then you probably would have gone up to the stewards yourself to complain.

this was nothing new for the team though, and it was evident in their unimpressed expressions as they got back into position again. you carried on complaining for quite a bit after that— if there was one thing that you hated, then it was cheaters and liars. there was no reason to call the goal offside.

not too far away in the stands trent had his attention on you, an amused smile dancing on his lips as you complained to the other players on the bench— exaggerating your movements and explaining further, your blood boiling.

curris noticed him watching and teasingly nudged his arm. "talk about passionate."

he was right, your passion for the sport was never something you tried to minimise or hold back and that was something that trent found extremely attractive. you were always standing along the touchline with your hands on your head in distraught or leaping from your seat when they scored.

this was a first for trent— his past girlfriends who attended his games usually sat in the family booth and watched from afar, possibility not knowing what was actually happening on the pitch. but the idea of having you so close to him on the once place that he felt the most at home made his heart race.

close, both literally and figuratively— you'd be on the touchline, at most of his games because it was your job but also because you shared the passion for the sport and that meant more than anything to him. the fact that he could share what made him whole, with his partner.

"saffie's at home watching peacefully," curtis then shook his head as he watched you talk to conor who was subbed off, probably complaining again. "and this beast is picking a fight with the stewards."

trent stifled a laugh at his retort, stopping himself to try and listen in on what you were telling conor who was nodding along.

"exactly! I would have thrown him to the floor, conor. you're weak my boy." you pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, causing curtis to throw his head back in laughter.

20 minutes and two yellow cards later, the score was still tied at 0-0. the thought of the match falling into added time made you nauseous, because at the rate anything could happen. with a hand on your forehead you sunk further into your seat, all hope lost as the kids put on their jerseys.

"save us. please." your voice was meek and desperate causing the three of them to laugh, watching as the sub board went up. "I believe in you!"

when the final whistle blew for a short break before the added extra time you got up from your seat and paced up and down to loosen the tension in your legs. jurgen was huddled with the team, strategizing but you weren't too sure what he could possible be telling them.

personally you would have told them to break the chelsea players' legs. or at least try and play a bit rougher but there was nothing you could do except sit and watch. the kids were doing well luckily, and you did a headcount oh how many of them were on the pitch.

4. there were 4 first team players on that pitch and the rest were the club's academy kids going up against a full cheslea squad in a cup final. it was jaw dropping to witness this in person.

when jurgen came over for some water you asked him what the strategy was, to which he just shrugged with a smile. "I told them to have fun. just kick the ball until it hits the back of the net."

you blinked up at him for a moment, the answer a surprise to you but it made sense. there was nothing better that could have been done, so instead you started to pray and manifest, begging the universe for a goal or at least an opportunity.

with your lips pursed you looked up to the timer above the pitch, the big 116 mocking the players on the pitch. there was 4 minutes left and chelsea's management decided that it was a good time to make a substitution. obviously it was to waste time, but even then it was a stupid idea.

the players on the pitch were out of breath, virgil had swear dripping down his forehead and a look of complete exhaustion hiding behind his blank stare. what a way to make people suffer.

it wad the last corner of the match probably and tsimikas was up to take it. naturally you got up again seeing as this was probably going to penalties which you were confident enough in.

with hopeless eyes your eyes followed the ball as it crossed into the penalty area where the players were showing each other, trying to make way for a header. the stadium held it's breath, everyone's hope deep in the dirt until virgil managed to get a touch on the ball just enough that it successfully hit the back of the net.

it happened so quickly but the adrenaline eventually kicked in and you were being pulled into a hug from jurgen. on the other end of the pitch, virgil was sprawled on the floor, the boys surrounding him and laying beside him. it was all over once the final whistle blew seconds later and you heard the bustling noise from behind you.

darwin came running down the steps, pushing curtis to the side as he leapt over the barricade and onto the pitch in excitement with the staff. it was all too much, the overwhelming feelings of anxiety and excitement whirling inside of you.

you were left speechless, nothing more to say than. "how the fuck?"

the celebration was nothing short of heartwarming, but the feeling of watching the chelsea players leaving the stadium without saying a word was a better feeling.

"maybe you should actually try and score next time," you said with a teasing smile directed at levi who was heading towards you up the stairs with the rest of his team. "instead of standing as if you were the great wall of china."

all he did was shake his head and gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder as be walked past, before quickly turning back. "I still think you look better in blue though."

you stifled a laugh, not bothering to answer and instead made your way to the pitch where the banner was set up to take a few pictures before they came down to sing the anthem with their proudly adorned medals and trophy.

while they did all that you made a quick run up to stands, eagerly minding your way until maya, noah and alex were in the clear. the excitement on alex's face was enough for you, a proud feeling of warmth spreading through your chest.

"how was it buddy? did you have fun?" you asked and pulled him into a tight hug.

the younger boy nodded happily, going on about how scared he was and how he really wanted ice cream during the match because it was "super intense". when the time came you bid them goodbye and headed back down to take some pictures.

a fond smile formed on your face at the sight of the academy players, the group immediately making their way over to you with their medals and bombarding you with excited comments.

"I can't believe I nearly scored twice," jayden said with widened eyes, still in disbelief as he held up two fingers. "that's more than once and I just got here."

"which means that you better score soon, the season is nearly over." you lightly punched his arm, the group of academy players following you through the crowd of staff on the pitch.

once again james forced a sarcastic laugh, looking to jayden with his eyes narrowed. "well I just got here too and got booked 3 minutes in. I literally breathed."

not long after that, the photographers called all the academy players together for a group photograph and you took a step back and watched. but your attention was promptly caught by trent leisurely strolling beside dominik and mo.

with a smile you waved him over and suggested that he joined the picture since he was an academy graduate as well. he wasn't too sure at first but he eventually cut in.

after a few pictures your eyes squinted. "what's he doing here?" your question was directed at harvey who was seated on the floor, his face melted in irration as you spoke to him.

"I could ask you the same thing," he shot back and you nearly responded but the group dispersed, everyone going their own way as the celebration wrapped up.

naturally, you joined trent in his little stroll but made sure there was enough space between the two of you so no suspicion would be raised.

even though you were talking normally for the most part, it physically pained him that he couldn't even hold your hand. he gap between your bodies made him cringe, and what made it worse was that this was the first time that he's ever felt this needy or desperate to be close to someone.

but as you were talking to him now, the stadium still full of supporters while you stood in the middle of it all, he felt the desperation panging at his chest.

"bro are you seriously zoning out again?" you asked with a sigh. "this is the fourth time today-- and yes I'm counting."

"well sorry." he lifted his hands into the air in defence. "It's not my fault that my heart is in actual pain because I have to treat you like a normal friend in public."

your eyes rolled at his exaggeration, his dramatics being nothing new especially about this topic. "we aren't officially together yet so we can't do anything about it. calm down, loverboy."

normally this would be the part where he'd kiss you so that you'd shut up but trent had to bite his tongue today, and instead just nodded. it was the harsh truth unfortunately and as much as he loved private relationships, he wanted to show you off. he wanted the world to know that you were his.

but for the first time in a while he'd have to be patient.

spamjam._.

liked by judebellingham and 3 223 122 others

spamjam._. my kids dawg!! 🏆❤️ (and those other grandpa's too)

view all comments below

liverpoolfc red suites you so much more 🫶 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. say it louder for the people in the back 👏 @levicolwill

user ??? oh the dramaaaa

user 120 minutes of torture that I refuse to relive

bobbyclark can't believe that I made it onto the profile 😫

→ spamjam._. watch me crop you out.

→ jayden.danns @bobbyclark I'm the one who got the photocreds on her story 🥱 lower your tone in my presence

→ jamesmconnel and I got booked for breathing 😒

→ spamjam._. james that was a clear tackle?? you got booked for a reason 😭

→ jamesmcconnell yeah for breathing!!

virgilvandijk you should've gotten a medal for being the best cheerleader today 🥇[liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. aahhh!! I'm so glad my efforts were noticed

→ curtisjr you were screaming at the refs and nearly barged into the stewards room 🤨

→ spamjam._. which is more than you did today benchboy

mosalah grandpas? 😔

→ spamjam._. your leg is broken, so yes. grandpa's 😔

[next!!] [previous!!]

[d3m0nicdream]

Prom Night: Colby Brock (Part 1)

**Colby Brock Prom AU Poll Winner**

Colby Brock x fem!reader - a budding story about two people believed to be very unavailable to anyone, until they set their sights on eachother.

Part 2 is now up:

Part 2

tags: Slowish-burn, multi-parts, POVs will change in each part, I'll put tags on each part as they get posted. (there will be smut in later parts)

***************************************************

There is a difference between being well known and being popular. Y/N was both but Colby Brock was well known.

Y/N was a popular girl in high school. She wasn’t mean to people, she talked to pretty much everyone and she had pretty good grades all in all. Everyone knew her and everyone liked her. Especially the boys, but she would never accept anyone's proposal for dates or hang outs. It frustrated the majority of the male population but they weren't mad per say. They saw it as more of a competition against each other. If you could bag Y/N for just a hangout session, you would be a legend. So of course, Y/N had a lot of the male attention.

Colby Brock. He was a funny guy, he was also known throughout the school. He was nice to everyone, talked to everybody like they were friends, no matter who you were. His stunning dark hair and blue eye combo had all the girls fiendish over him and he would hear them out but politely decline.

While sitting and watching the football players practice, an event she was invited to by the entire football team. Y/N and her best friend Kat sit on the bleachers and witness the calamity that is their football team. Truthfully she felt more like a distraction than anything so with that she yells to the team.

“Hey, I going to head to study hall guys, good luck!” She waves and they all wave back, telling her to drop by again sometime which would not be happening unbeknownst to them. Her and Kat walk down the track but her eyes wander to the marching band, setting up for a football game performance.

"Hey Kat? Is that Colby Brock?" She points to the dark haired boy setting up his clarinet, him oblivious to her presence.

"Yeah, he's a band nerd haha. What a loser." Kat scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"What's wrong with being in the marching band?" Y/N quizzes as she stares at the group and their instruments, she had always wanted to learn how to play an instrument but never had time for it.

"Uh. Only nerds are in band, Y/N. Come on. Haven't you seen like any high school movie ever? Why are we staring at them. We need to go to study hall." She glares at the group and then walks away. Y/N jogs to catch up. She doesn't go unnoticed because there were two boys watching her, one being Colby Brock.

************************************************************************

"I don't know dude. it definitely looked like she was staring at you. Could you imagine?" Sam pipes up smacking Colby in the arm.

"My best friend bagging the legendary Y/N. That would be crazy!" Sam beams.

"Yeah, hence I'm not doing it." Colby goes back to packing up his instrument. He thought it was so ridiculous. Sure she was pretty but every dude was fawning over her. He would probably be murdered by someone to get to her, he believed people were that crazy.

"Hey, you think her friend Kat would go out with me?"

"Doubt it. She seems bitchy. I don't get how they are friends." Colby heads to his dreaded 4th period class where he's forced to watch people make fools of themselves for Y/N. It was quite painful to witness if he was being honest. As he's walking, he overhears what sounds like a threat by someone to his left. He sees Y/N being pressed up against a wall by some football douche with no escape.

"Sam, follow me." Colby walks up behind the guy, grabbing his shoulder.

"Damn, out here trying to bag Y/N?" Colby smirks.

"I wouldn't hold my breath buddy." Colby whispers in the kids ear while patting his back.

"Back the fuck off. She was just about to tell me she was going to see later. Right, Doll?" He smirks at Y/N like shes a meal and it doesn't sit well with Colby at all. He looks at Sam and he nods over to her. Sam understands him without a word being spoken. Colby grabs the dudes shoulders and yanks him around, pushing him out into the hall where he stumbles and falls to the ground. Colby towering over him while Sam slides by and grabs Y/N to move her out of the way.

"You better get going, class starts soon and you probably shouldn't miss it." Colby winks.

"This is not how you play the game, Colby."

"Oh buddy, I'm not even playing." He waves the guy off. He gets up and mumbles a 'fuck you' to Colby before heading down the hall. He turns and heads to Sam.

"Hey, uh. Thanks for that. Usually I can handle them but he was... persistent." Y/N speaks up immediately as Colby walks up. He waves at her.

"It's all good. We need to get to class though." All three walk to their class together and make it just before the bell. The rest of class, the room is buzzing about them all showing up together.

After class, Colby and Sam leave to meet up with Jake and Corey but they end up finding them first.

"Dude. You seriously got into a fight with Brent Snider? That's ballsy." Corey grabs Colby by the shoulders, playfully shaking him. Colby smiles at his friends actions.

"It wasn't that big of a deal. I was just helping someone."

"That someone being Y/N!" Jake flashes his screen at Corey and the boys. Corey's jaw drops.

"Dude. What the fuck. I thought you weren't in the game?" Corey stares at him wide eyed.

"I'm NOT. Look, he had her pinned to a wall, what was I supposed to do? Leave her there?" Colby rolls his eyes.

"I'm going home. I'll see you guys later." Colby pushes through everyone and they look at each other.

"COLBY! WAIT FOR US, DUDE!" Jake yells and runs after him, the others in tow. On the other side of the school, another conversation was being had between Y/N and Kat.

"Seriously! If Colby wasn't there, Brent would have done something to me, dude." Y/N shudders as she goes on about what happened to her to Kat. That was one thing she was afraid of when it came to the guys and this 'game' as they call it. She almost wishes she had someone like Colby around to ward them off. They walk towards the parking lot to their cars.

"Well, I'm glad you are safe. that sounds really scary. Hey.. Was Sam there with him?" Kat asks nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact with her friend who is clearly staring daggers into her.

"Sam Golbach? Yeah, he pulled me out of the corner while Colby was doing his thing. Why?" Y/N could read Kat like a book.

"Oh, uh. no reason. Let's go."

************************************************************************

:)))) thanks for the love &lt;3

Part 2

[kabie-whump]

✧･ﾟ Ripe, About to Fall - Part 11 ✧･ﾟ

This is an 18+ slowish burn pet-whump story with added romance.

Title from 'Liquid Smooth' by Mitski

Series First | Previous Summary: Ventis still isn't talking, and Athos takes advantage of it. Theodore visits Athos and has a chat with Ventis. Content: non-con oral onscreen, beating mentions, degradation, trauma-induced muteness?, character death mention, (let me know if I missed a tag I'm brain soup right now)

Onthyes does not belong to me. He was created by my wonderful gf @sapphicccici and I have kidnapped him.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Ventis’s whole body ached as he sat at his master’s feet. It’s been at least two years since he was last beaten as badly as he was yesterday, but still not a word escaped his lips. 

He didn’t really know why he wasn’t talking. He’d like to believe it to be a brave act of rebellion, except he really did want to give in. He didn’t like being beaten up, didn’t like the threat in Athos’s eyes every time he responded to a question with a nod or shake of his head. Ventis was a lot of things, but he wouldn’t consider himself to be brave.

But the words just wouldn’t leave his lips, no matter how desperately he tried to convince them to.

At least he didn’t have to wear such revealing clothing today, since Athos wanted to keep the worst of the bruises hidden.

“He really is beautiful, Mr. Landleigh. You’re a lucky man.”

Ventis blinked himself out of his thoughts, glancing up at the source of the words. Dwen. One of Athos’s newest business partners - a man probably only ten years older than Ventis. He stood out in a room otherwise filled with people old enough to be Ventis’s parents or even grandparents. Dwen was a hungry young man in more ways than one, and he never kept his eyes to himself.

“Indeed,” Athos hummed, reaching down to pat Venits’s head. Ventis couldn’t help but lean into the touch, finding comfort in the gentleness despite its source. “He requires a fair amount of training and upkeep, but he’s certainly worth the trouble.”

“I’ve been considering getting a pet of my own. You do nothing but rave about yours. But I fear it would be challenging to find one that lives up to him.”

Ventis looks up at Athos, watching a smirk cross the man’s face. The look that means he’s up to something, and Ventis isn’t going to like it.

Athos ran his fingertips along Ventis’s cheek lovingly. “Isn’t that sweet, treasure? My friend here envies your rare beauty. Do you want to give him a taste of what it’s like to own you?”

Ventis swallowed hard, shaking his head. He knew exactly what Athos meant. Athos had let his friends use him before, but it was a rare occurrence and only when he was particularly upset with him.

 “Hm. I don’t hear a ‘no’.” Athos said with a grin. “That’s very generous of you, darling.” He stood, grabbing Ventis by a horn and dragging him over to kneel in front of Dwen.

Dwen smiled down at Ventis, his hands moving to his belt. 

Ventis’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

“I know you haven’t been feeling well recently,” Athos said, leaning down to speak softly into Ventis’s ear. “If you aren’t up for this, just tell me. I can make it all stop.”

Ventis shook his head again, pleading with his eyes. 

Athos’s lips were still set in a smile, but his eyes shone with disappointment. “Oh, you don’t want to stop? Alright then. He’s all yours, Dwen.”

Ventis steeled himself as Athos returned to his seat and struck up a casual conversation with his other partners. He could deal with this. He had plenty of experience. It wouldn’t kill him, and his veins were thumming with Nightspill, helpfully numbing the sharper of his emotions. 

I’m fine. I can handle this.

Dwen’s hand found Ventis’s hair, guiding him in closer until his lips touched hot flesh.

Just tune it out. 

Ventis closed his eyes, praying that Dwen would at least be gentle. Not that anyone ever was. His training took over and he opened his mouth. His fangs dug into the scarred-over spots on the inside of his lips. Better they pierce his own skin than the skin of his master, and the taste of blood wasn’t too bad once he got used to it.

Ugh. He needs to bathe.

Ventis focused on shutting down his need to breathe. He wouldn’t (couldn’t) choke, thanks to his elemental ancestry. That didn’t stop his throat from burning at the slight stretch. He clenched his fists in his lap.

Dwen let out a shaky groan, his hands grabbing for his horns to pull him even closer. “He’s… cold,” Dwen said with a chuckle. “Even on the inside. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“An air genasi quirk,” Athos quipped. “Not every man’s cup of tea, but I find it quite enjoyable. If it’s too bothersome I have a fix for that.”

Ventis couldn’t help but whimper at the thought. The ‘fix’ in question involved him chugging scalding hot water. He hadn’t been able to swallow without pain for a week after the last time. 

“It’s alright. He’s plenty tight, so I don’t mind it.”

Thank the gods.

Luckily, Dwen didn’t last long. The men Athos lended him to rarely did. As awful as his situation was, Ventis found himself somewhat prideful of his skill in this area. He couldn’t step outside on his own, but at least he could deliver a world-shattering orgasm in mere minutes when he needed to. 

He returned to his place in front of Athos, subtly stretching his sore knees as a nearby servant rushed over to fix his hair and wipe his face clean and polish the fingerprints off of his horns. Ventis’s tongue ran over the twin spots inside his upper lip where his fangs had inevitably pierced the skin. The blood masked Dwen’s taste well. Still, he was grateful when Athos offered him a sip of wine.

The guests left soon after, leaving Ventis and Athos alone. Ventis looked up at his master, unable to stop himself from glaring at the man.

“I asked you if you wanted it,” Athos said with a shrug. “You didn’t say no.”

The two spent the next couple of hours outside in the garden, in a sitting area under the shade of a tree. Ventis allowed himself to enjoy it - the taste of fresh fruit on his tongue, the sounds of wind rustling leaves and soft flutter of Athos turning the pages of his book, the scent of roses. Seated at his master’s feat like always, Ventis rested his head against his thigh and closed his eyes, clinging to the sliver of peace.

Ventis heard a servant appear and have a short conversation with Athos, but he didn’t care to decipher the words. The servant left and Ventis started to drift off, lulled towards sleep by Athos’s fingers in his hair.

Then, “Ah, the young Lord Riinturuth returns!”

Ventis sat up straight with a jolt, his eyes snapping open. There, escorted by the butler, was his younger brother, Theodore. Ventis squinted at him, curious about why he had returned after that awful dinner, but Theodore made a point of not even glancing in his direction. His eyes were on Athos alone.

“Come, sit down! What brings you back to my humble manor, my Lord?”

Anyone else would find Athos’s voice nothing aside from welcoming, but Ventis knew better. He knew that edge of caution hiding under his words. 

Theodore sat in a plush chair and the butler poured him a glass of wine. “Please, just call me Theodore, Mr. Landleigh. There is no need for formalities with me. I come to you today as little more than a student.”

Ventis resisted the urge to snort. Theodore was never the ‘student’ type. He’d always been more interested in hunting and fighting and honing his magic.

“Oh? You intrigue me, Theodore. Do go on.”

“Well, I have a request for you. You are an influential person in this city, which is why my father wanted us to have dinner together at the start of my stay here. But the truth is, he looks down upon those who find their power through economic pursuits. To him, business is too fickle of a thing to rest your legacy on.”

Athos hummed, displeased.

“But I could not help but respect you, sir,” Theodore pressed on. “Being born into power is one thing, but having the ability to take it for yourself? To me, that is much more impressive. My time in Nimbria was only meant for me to study leadership with the Venturas, but I believe it would benefit me to learn from you as well. If you will have me, I would love to observe your business practices from time to time. And in return I can promise that your business will always have a friend in my kingdom’s ports.”

Athos considered Theodore with a raised brow. “And you are certain that this proposition has nothing to do with your long lost brother here?” Athos’s hand rested atop Ventis’s head.

Theodore’s eyes flicked to Ventis for a second before he fixed his gaze on Athos once more. “I can assure you, sir, that he means nothing to me. It is thanks to his absence from home that I was able to ascend to my position as our father’s heir. Our shared past will cause no issue.”

Athos hummed, absentmindedly stroking Ventis’s hair as he thought. “Very well. I have no children of my own, so maybe it will do me some good to have an eager young mind to shape.”

“Thank you, sir. You will not regret this.”

The two sat and chatted for a while as Ventis tried to come to terms with the fact that his brother would be coming by even more after this. Had he not been humiliated enough already?

“Ventis, go fetch more wine,” Athos said after he and Theodore had finished off what was left of the previous bottle.

Ventis stood with a short nod and walked inside.

Moments later, as he was just passing through the doorway into the servant’s corridors, a hand grabbed his arm. He gasped sharply as the fingers dug into bruises. Ventis turned, his eyes going wide when he saw his brother staring back at him.

“Jasper,” Theodore said, his voice low. “I’m here to rescue you.”

Ventis took a small step back, shaking Theodore’s hand off of his arm. Why was everyone trying to save him all of a sudden? More importantly, why would Theodore want to save him? They’ve always been rivals. Theodore said himself just earlier today that Ventis’s absence had been good for him. Ventis couldn’t believe for a second that Theodore actually cared what happened to him. His actions five years ago had proven that all too well.

How was Ventis supposed to believe that the very same person who had singlehandedly ruined his life actually wanted to help him?

Theodore definitely saw the blatant disbelief and confusion on Ventis’s face. He leaned in closer, dropping his voice even lower.

“Listen, brother. While you are still under Landleigh’s thumb, Onthyes Ventura will not train me, and that is the entire reason I am in this city in the first place. I am helping you whether you want me to or not, so I suggest you make this easy on both of us and not be so fucking stubborn for once.”

Ventis’s heart stopped.

“Onthyes is alive?”

Those were the first words he had spoken in days. They came out as a broken whisper. A tiny sliver of hope in a world that had seemed so dark for so long.

Theodore looked taken aback. “Yes, of course he is.”

“I…” Ventis sunk to the ground, squatting on his heels and threading his fingers through his hair. His breaths came with far too much difficulty and his vision blurred. “I thought he was dead.”

Suddenly, everything was different. There was hope. And Ventis didn’t know what to do with it. He choked out a sob, covering his face with both hands.

“Jas- Ventis?” He could feel Theodore getting closer and squatting down in front of him. 

“How?” Ventis croaked. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“After he failed to rescue you, his guard friends knocked him out and left him there. They didn’t kill him.”

“I-If you’re lying, Theo-”

“I’m not lying. He can’t come to see you himself, obviously, so I’ve come in his place. I will get close with Landleigh, and at the first opportunity I will get you out of here. But you have to work with me. You have to trust me.”

Ventis glared at Theodore through his tears. “Trust you? After what you did to me? Are you joking?”

Annoyance flashed across Theodore’s face before he schooled his expression back into neutrality. “You’re still on about that? It was five years ago. I was fourteen. Grow up and move on.”

“Move on?” Ventis hissed. “That would be easy for you, wouldn’t it? You’re not the one who…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the word. They both knew what it was anyway, and it hung between them, unspoken.

Died.

“You came out fine in the end,” Theodore muttered. “I am not responsible for the way you decided to cope.”

Ventis glared at the wall behind Theodore. “I do not want your help.”

“You do not have a choice. Onthyes is useless to me without you.”

Theodore extended a hand down to Ventis. Ventis glared at it, then rose to his feet on his own.

“Like it or not,” Theodore continued, “I am currently your only hope of seeing him again. I can not force you to cooperate with your own rescue, but I would encourage you to think it over.”

With that he left Ventis alone, headed for the exit. Ventis took a moment to collect himself, scrubbing tears away with his sleeves, before he resumed his journey to the wine celler. 

When he returned to Athos’s side with a fresh bottle the man’s eyes searched his face immediately. Ventis glanced away with hope that he wouldn’t notice his watery, red rimmed eyes. 

Athos took Ventis by the chin, forcing his face up towards his own. There was a little smile on his face as he brushed his thumb across Ventis’s bottom lip.

“You look beautiful today, treasure,” Athos said gently.

“Thank you, master.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Next

I'm sorry this one took so long omg. I'm at a point in this story where I just want to skip to the recovery but I gotta get there first, so I keep writing scenes for the future because that's more exciting to me right now. Luckily, that means I'm impatient and Ventis is probably going to get out in the next chapter or two! Yay!

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet

@sleepyiswhumping @bitchaknso @unicornbeck @wounds-seen-and-unseen @3-2-whump

@looptheloup @rainydaywhump

[mudisgranapat]

II. Crash

Word count: 3,9 k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader Content: zombie apocalypse, mention of dead bodies, mention of dead children, mention of death, children, enemies to lovers, slow burn

Taglist: @poohkie90 @gaida-511

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Note: If the storyline is confusing at some point, please let me know so I can explain with more detail! Also, there is some stuff that will make more sense with time, so have that in mind. I'm trying to make this a bit realistic, so it will be a slowish-burn. With all that said, have fun :)

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.

.

He doesn’t surprise himself with how fast his reflexes kick in anymore - the cameras were only on for seconds before Simon shot them down. He remembered where each one of them was, he barely had to look in their direction before aiming; besides, there was no use being discreet now. There was a reason Simon Riley had survived every single test life had put him through. He was fucking good at what he did. 

It was also the exact same reason why he didn’t have a life outside of work. He was a soldier with every fiber of his body: he acted like war. He didn’t take the least aggressive route, and he didn’t put people before the mission’s goal. His hands had a mind of their own when they curled into fists and when they held a gun it was turned into an extension of his body. 

None of those were compatible with dealing with an infant, and that was why, following the sound of the gunshots, a terrified cry erupted from the tiny baby’s body. Simon could swear that the noise was more aggravating than the sound of a thousand grenades exploding in his ears. All he could do was stare back at the baby through the hollow eyes of his skull mask, watching as the little girl’s face started to turn red.

“Are you out of your mind?” He didn’t need to look to know where that voice was coming from. Any small progress they had made into turning the girl into a less angry version of herself had gone out the window, and she was back to giving what seemed to be her signature disapproving glare. Somehow, the fact that Simon towered over her didn’t seem to scare the attitude out of her body. He wondered what would. “Do you not realize that there is a child by your side? You could have busted her eardrums!”

“I’m sorry about that.” Gaz says quickly. He seems to feel guilty about the whole thing, which Simon doesn’t understand. He had eliminated the threat most efficiently; if anything, she should be thankful that whoever had access to those cameras would only have seconds' worth of footage. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” She insists. Soap watches with an amusing grin. He had never seen someone challenge Ghost like that, especially when he was dressed with his whole skull mask, skeleton gloves, and tactical gear combo. The Sergeant swore he could see his Lieutenant’s eyebrow raise in surprise behind the mask. 

“A deaf baby is better than a dead one.” Simon states dryly. Y/N’s mouth drops open with an offended gasp and, seeing that as his cue, Johnny intervenes to stop the situation from escalating. He knew Simon wasn’t exactly a patient guy, and he was surprised that Ghost had stayed quiet for this long. Not that he would ever make small talk, but he figured that by now he would have at least told the woman to leave him alone, probably not so politely. Now he wished Ghost was mute, so he wouldn’t have to deal with him insulting a child.

“We’re sorry about that, lass.” He notices that there is still some urgency that lies beneath her words, and he wonders where such worry about being seen by the cameras comes from.  “Don’t worry, everything is going to be alright.” That was a phrase every soldier was trained to say, and it slipped out of Soap’s lips easily while he put a comforting hand on Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to reassure people and get them to trust you, and he pushes further to try and get some information out of her. “What are you not telling us? I’m sure we can help you.” 

She doesn’t try to pretend she has nothing to hide but doesn’t seem willing to open up either. “Yeah, like you would care. I know you just came here to do your job, so don’t pretend you care about the damage you leave behind. I know the type of guy your little group is made of.” She pushes the hand away from her shoulder and starts to sway the baby in her arms, her venomous tone quickly switching into a sweet one as she whispers calming words into the little girl’s ears. 

“We’re not here to hurt you, or cause any trouble.” It’s the Captain’s turn to intervene, and he shoots Simon a dirty look, like a dad that reprimands their child for saying something that, albeit true, is incredibly rude. “I know this must be scary for you. And I don’t mean just the four of us walking into your house, armed. Caring for a baby in a situation like this must not be easy.” 

Maybe it’s the crying, maybe it’s the Captain’s voice (the old man can be sweet when he wants to), but she finally seems to let her walls crumble a little bit. Sitting on a nearby chair, she lets out an exasperated sigh. She looks at the baby with eyes so lovingly that they almost make Simon believe that he too could be loved. “You don’t understand. It’s more complicated than it looks.” 

“Try me.” John gives her an encouraging smile and pulls a chair for him to sit. He has one of those faces that makes you want to trust him with your life. Simon envied that about John. Sometimes he looked in the mirror and wondered if people only saw Ghost when they looked into his eyes, even after the mask was gone. He knows he does, every morning when he stares back at the lifeless eyes that watch him through the mirror. Every time he takes his mask off, he wonders if he should sew it permanently into his face - maybe then he would have an excuse to never get rid of Ghost, and let Simon slowly wither into the memory of a man he had always been.

Y/N looks at Simon, and and the hesitance behind her eyes when she looks into his, lets him know that she only sees Ghost. “I stole something from the Resistance.” She finally admits. “They are looking for me, that’s why I’ve been hiding in here.” She takes a shaky breath. “They are going to kill me if they find me.” The second part of her confession is quieter, as if she didn’t want the baby to hear the terrible faith that awaited her. 

“We won’t let that happen. We have a safe place, you can come with us.” That suggestion goes against every single one of Simon’s instincts, and he genuinely starts to worry for his Cpatian’s sanity. They can’t afford two more mouths to feed, two more people to take care of, two more people to share their resources with. But then he looks around and notices that neither Soap nor Gaz seem to disagree with Price’s offer. Then, he realizes that this is just another one of those moments where his stone-cold persona stops him from understanding why people would offer things just for the sake of being kind. 

“In apocalypse lingo that means you have a cult.”

“It’s not a cult.” Gaz laughs. “We are mostly military personnel and their relatives, trying to survive.” 

“I would say you’re doing more than surviving. I mean, what even brought you here? And don’t say you’re just looking for food. I’m no idiot.” 

“Never thought you were, lass.” Soap looks at his Captain for approval to share information about their mission. It’s not like anything was classified anymore, but habits stick. “We have some scientists that still believe they can find a cure - we came here to see if we could find anything useful.” At that, he points at Gaz, who is still sitting by the computer, now trying to load whatever he had managed to uncover into a pen drive. 

Simon notices how she visibly tenses under the word cure. His eyes are trained to see people’s reactions to information. That usually tells more about them than their own words. “I really appreciate the offer, but I am fine on my own. I will figure things out.” Y/N gets up and starts to walk towards the door, the abrupt change of humor taking them by surprise. “I always have. Good luck on your mission though, I hope your scientists are right.”  

Soap takes after her, but Simon stops him. “Let it go, Johnny. We have a mission to finish.” The Sergent nods in agreement and moves to search through a pile of old papers with a defeated look. Soon she is out of sight, but they can still hear her shuffling in a hurry downstairs. If she didn't want shelter there was nothing they could do about it. It pained Soap to watch the girl leave, but he understood a thing or two about having a hard time trusting people; he just wished there was something he could do about it.  

As they continued looking through the room, gathering the few bits of information they thought were slightly useful, Simon found himself looking through the window. That is when he caught a glimpse of Y/N, getting into an old red car she uncovered from some tarp. He was not only surprised that the junk still worked, as it looked pretty wrecked, but that she had been prepared for an emergency. He could tell the car was stuffed full of materials, blankets, and all sorts of crap that might come in handy. He lets out an amused chuckle but quickly covers it up with a cough before anyone can notice. He could tell she was resourceful from the beginning but was just now finding out to what extent.  

A few documents and a pen drive later, they decide to call the mission a success and head back to the Humvee. “You think she is gonna make it, Cap?” Gaz asks with a hint of sadness in his voice. Surviving that long hadn’t been easy, not even for them. They might have been trained to shoot moving targets, but nothing can prepare you for the blanket of dullness that covers the atmosphere during an apocalypse. No matter how long a soldier is deployed, they still have a place to come back to, a reason to fight for. But fighting and surviving are completely different things, and when life becomes empty of any motivation to keep going, you find that a rifle is lighter to carry than a heavy heart. Simon was all too familiar with that concept: It was embedded in his brain since revenge tasted like sugar and anger sounded like a song that lulled him to sleep. 

“There is no use thinking about that now, Sergent.” John says, turning on the ignition. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.” 

They were getting in the car when Gaz stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Aw shit! Forgot my cap in the house.”

“Make it quick, Sergent.”

“Will do, Captain!” He shouts from the distance as he makes his way into the house, knowing he probably won't honor his promise. He has no idea where he left the damn thing.

John chose to wait in the front seat with the ignition still on, smoking a cigar, while Ghost and Soap made idle conversation resting against the back of the Humvee. At times like this, it was hard to believe the world wasn’t normal. But then a zombie would come around and Johnny and Simon would do “rock, papers, scissors” to find out who would have to take care of it.

“Hey. LT, how many Germans does it take to screw in a light bulb?” Soap asks with a grin on his face, as he cleans his knife from the blood.

Simon pretends to think for a moment. They had been exchanging two-liners for as long as he could remember, and it was surprising they could still keep going after all this time. Once, he could swear he saw Johnny pick up a joke book from an old library that they had passed by during a mission. He never teased him about it, because he knew it would pay off during moments like this. “How many?”

“One. They are efficient and not very funny.”

“You’re not very funny.”

Before Soap could get offended, the sound of a single gunshot penetrates the air. “Hands up!” A coarse voice commands. Simon moves to grab his gun, but another shot follows dangerously close to his head. He and Soap slowly put their hands up in surrender, as they hear footsteps approaching from the front of the vehicle, effectively surrounding them. They hear Price step out of the truck, and soon he is right beside them, as they stand in a line, side to side. A small group of what looks like military men corners them. They don’t look like the unorganized militia groups that they usually come across, with improvised armor and guns they barely know how to hold. These people sport matching uniforms and seem to be well trained, carrying the weapons with a confidence that doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Where are the girl and the baby?” The same man asks. He has a scar that runs across his left eye, clearly jeopardizing his vision. “You’re a long way from home, soldiers. So why don’t you help me and answer the question? Maybe you can still make it back to the base before sunrise.”

John tenses after hearing how well the guy seemed to know them. He hated being at disadvantage. “We haven’t seen any girls ‘round here.” 

“Now, don’t lie to me, John. I don’t like playing games.” He lets out a dry laugh. “I’ll ask you one more time: Where are they?” 

He couldn’t believe this was the Resistance. Last Simon heard from them, they were a bunch of rebels running around without purpose, creating fires so they could put them out. Yet, there they stood in front of him, the unmistakable Resistance logo plastered on the left side of their chest: A red capital R with a dagger running through it horizontally. Not only did they know their names and address, they were asking about the girl and the baby. The girl and the baby that had been with them less than an hour ago. 

They seemed familiar, and it irked Simon that he couldn’t exactly put a finger on why. 

The Resistance is still the one behind the cameras in the lab, he concluded, with enough control over their surveillance to notice a couple of abandoned cameras going online for seconds and quickly respond to the disturbance with a group of soldiers. Seconds that had been sufficient for them to recognize the girl and the baby. Whatever she had done to piss them off, Simon could guarantee it was more than stealing something. 

In response to the silence, the man puts his finger on the trigger of his gun but doesn’t raise it. Simon registers the name on his uniform: AJ Miller. When his arm lifts, a blast fills the air, in both sound and density, as a layer of smoke quickly covers the scene. 

Gaz had thrown a smoke grenade. 

Simon breathes in the smoke, and counterintuitive as it may seem, the vapor that fills his lungs brings clarity to his mind. He pulls out his gun, and the metallic smell of blood overpowers the aroma of moss that seems to always linger in the air these days. Gunshots wizz past him in every direction, each one missing him by either luck or his movements; it was hard to tell the difference. The smoke dies down and Simon counts: One, two three. No casualties. 

That matter, it is. 

Bodies lay on the ground in front of them, blood covering the old pavement, seeping through the cracks, and meeting the soil from where wildflowers grow. Empty shell casings reflect the sunlight with an even more golden hue and in a twisted way, remind Ghost of a starry night. Like most, the battle ended as suddenly as it started. 

“Everyone alright?” The Captain asks, looking around the group. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost nod in agreement. “Good work, Gaz.”

“Steaming Jesus. What in the bloody hell was that?” Soap asks. 

“The Resistance must have a new boss. Looks like someone has finally succeeded in weaponizing citizens.” John shakes his head, as if trying to find a logical explanation to what they just saw. “Last we heard of them, they were idiots chasing their own tail with a gun. Now they are a fucking army.” Silence never meant good things during war; they should have known better than to let the enemy grow undisturbed for so long. “Back in the truck, boys. Seems like Laswell will finally get the intel she has been waiting for.” 

They were about to turn into the road when they heard shooting in the distance. Gaz is in the passenger seat this time, and he gives the Captain a pleading look. “They are going to die out there, Captain. We need to help them.” They don’t need to see the shooting to know what happened: the Resistance had found the girl and the baby. They had also been smart enough to divide the search into smaller groups of people so they could cover more area at the same time.

“The Resistance wants them, Gaz. She did something to piss them off and I don’t want to get us in the middle of the crossfire. They already know enough about us as it is.” 

“She knows the Resistance better than us, Price. Maybe she can help us get the upper hand on those bastards.” Soap chimes in, taking Kyle’s side on the discussion. 

“We don’t need the upper hand on them. We are not fighting against them. Besides, I doubt she would have anything useful to add.” Ghost argues, and neither Gaz nor Soap seem surprised that he is taking the Captain’s side. 

“We are going to fight them, eventually. I mean, we have to, right?” Kyle asks. “They know too much about us to take a neutral stance against our group. They are becoming too powerful.” There was a pause and you could almost smell the hope that hung on Gaz’s words.

“They are right. Simon.” John finally gives in, as he takes a turn that puts them in the same direction the gunshots are coming from. “She might not be able to give us any useful intel, but the Resistance wants her, and until we figure out why, securing her will give us an advantage against them”. He steps on the accelerator. “Let’s just hope she didn’t get too far.”

As the commotion gets louder and their plan is laid out, Gaz positions himself out of the window, gun in hand. Soap takes the same position on the door on the back, and Simon prepares to jump out of the truck as soon as it stops. He hears a loud crash and looks out the window just in time to see the old red car get T-boned by a much newer black car. The red car drives off the road and hits a tree, and Simon wonders if the thing was built out of titanium as he watches it survive without immediately combusting into flames.

The Sergents start to shoot at the Resistance, giving Simon cover as he rushes out of the truck and in the direction of the crash. The sound of loud crying fills the air again, making his skin crawl, and soon enough he opens the door on the driver’s side. Thankfully, they had been hit on the passenger side, and the baby had been behind the driver’s seat. 

“Take Cami. Please, you have to save her. You can’t let the Resistance take her.” Cami. That must be the baby’s name. He realized no one ever asked, and Y/N didn’t tell them either. Or maybe it’s Camille. Or Camila. He had never met a Camila before. Maybe it was Chamomile - he had heard of people naming their babies after flowers. 

“You’re coming with me.” He reaches across her and undoes her seatbelt. As much as he was against the idea of taking them back to the base, he was a man following orders now.

“No. My leg is hurt, I’m going to slow you down. You need to take her and run somewhere safe. There’s no time.” She looks at him with pleading eyes. Eyes that seemed to have made peace with dying. They didn’t belong in a young face like hers. And as she stared into his eyes, she seemed to search for someone that wasn’t Ghost. Someone that would take her baby to safety, and watch it grow into a healthy young woman that she would never get to meet. 

“I’ll carry you.” You’re not going to die here, he has the urge to tell her. But he doesn’t, because that is what Simon would have done, and Ghost knows that every second in a clock becomes an hour during war. And every second spent talking, is a second that is wasted. 

“You can’t carry us both at the same time, you need to go-”

“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do. Arms up, now.” And before she can protest more, he is throwing her on his shoulders, almost as if she is weightless. Pain shoots across her leg, but all she can think about is Cami. 

Is Cami hurt? Probably, she could hear her crying.

Is Cami dead? No, she could hear her crying.

Is she dead? She wanted to be. Her baby was crying, and there was nothing she could do to help her pain go away. 

With his free arm, Ghost opens the back door. Y/N moves on his shoulders, yelling something about Cami that he can’t quite understand because he is not paying attention. But then her voice switches to a much sweeter tone when she says “Everything is going to be okay, my love, don’t cry” over and over again, and suddenly, that is the only sound he can hear. 

He knows he should have gone for the baby first. Children should always be the first to be rescued. But for the first time, Simon was in the field and he was scared. The last time he had a baby in his arms, his brother was still alive. He remembers the silence when he walked into his house years ago, his whole family dead at his feet. He remembers Tommy’s pale and lifeless face, and he remembered it twice because he saw it again when he looked at Tommy’s dead son’s pale and lifeless face. 

He opens his eyes and hopes he doesn’t remember it a third time: but she is red, and it’s not blood, it’s just the effect of her face scrunching up and the breath coming out of her lungs. She is a baby, crying in the car seat, and she doesn’t look like Tommy. She is alive, her hands reaching for Simon, because she is too young to see Ghost. 

He is running back to the Humvee, carrying a woman on his shoulder and a child in his arms. Her voice still echoes in his head: "Everything is going to be okay, my love". 

[khalixvitae]

★Stitched ★

Idia Shroud x Reader | ~5k words

Warnings: none really??? Idia is self deprecating as usual. Allusions to book 6 lore but no spoilers. I leaned into Idia’s weird hybrid inferiority/superiority complex (he’s frustrating and annoying but that’s my wife). I wrote way more than I intended lmao.

Info: GN Reader with no physical descriptions. slowish burn, potential to be friends to lovers? No resolution in the end, a smattering of angst bc Idia is… well he’s himself. Heavily based on his vignettes, Home Screen idles, etc etc (this is for the detail oriented baddies and by that I mean I have capital A Autism and I’ve been fixated on him for months). I have been very into the idea of Idia making cosplays and props since becoming obsessed w his Halloween card, so uh. Yeah! There’s no mention of what the reader’s costume is, so it can be whoever you want! Only mentions that it’s from a manga so go wild! <3

——————————————————————————

When Ortho Shroud suggested that you commission his brother to build a prop for your Halloween costume, you’d agreed enthusiastically. You’d even said something about how sure you were that it would look great- a compliment he’d pass on to his reclusive sibling. After all, Ortho was living(?) proof of Idia’s handiwork, so making a prop would be playing on easy mode. Ortho did neglect to mention that his brother was not taking commissions (and frankly never would if Idia had it his way), but it wouldn’t be that big of an issue, right?

Wrong. The second Idia’s phone pinged with a message from an unknown number, from your unknown number, he was convinced he was going to die.

You were lucky you’d stated your case all in one message- if you’d started with just a greeting and expected small talk he would’ve just preemptively blocked you to avoid your little side quest. Besides, who messaged someone so early in the morning? Another look at his phone through bleary eyes would show that it was actually 6 pm, but nonetheless! He’d just woken up, so it was still far too early for that kind of shameless extrovert behavior. At least your message was pretty concise; Ortho had passed along his number because you wanted to commission him, and you’d offer payment in exchange. As clear as that was, there was still a lot to unpack. Ortho’s intentions to find friends for him were clearly at play here, which would’ve ground his gears more if it all wasn’t so well meaning. But giving someone his number for a cosplay commission? That felt a little excessive! What kind of meet-cute scenario was this? And how on earth did you plan to pay for a custom piece anyway? Not that he would actually make it, of course, but hypothetically. He’d heard through the grapevine (read: Azul’s chattering during board game club meetings) that you had a part time gig at Monstro Lounge, but surely you wouldn’t be spending your limited in-game currency on a cosplay prop. While he thought it would be a stupid decision, he had to respect your dedication.

Hypothetically, of course.

Despite any reluctant interest he had in knowing what costume you were putting together, there was no way he’d actually agree to a commission. Besides, it was probably a lame request anyway. And who cares if you’d probably (definitely) look great in your costume? Certainly not Idia, no sir. And he totally didn’t think about how happy you’d be if he were to accept your commission (which he’d never do, of course), or how you’d look holding a piece of his unquestionably perfect work. No, he wouldn’t lie awake thinking about any of that at all. Thus he decided to ignore your text indefinitely- it’s not like he had his read receipts on or anything. He’d just kick back, work on his own nearly finished costume, and maybe even send a halfhearted “soz, just saw this :/” a day or two before Halloween night. No unnecessary and draining social interactions, and you wouldn’t have to be inevitably disappointed by… well, by him. His craftsmanship was S tier without a doubt, but he had a charisma stat of 4 at most. So he’d just let the message sit there. That would be easier for everyone involved.

Well, that was the plan. But as it turned out, Ortho would have none of it. When he’d caught wind that Idia hadn’t bothered to answer your message a whole day later, he’d immediately bombarded his big brother with endless arguments for your case. It was the usual string of points- that Idia would be happier if he had irl friends (as if), that his general quality of life would improve if he had some positive social interaction (no way!), and so on. At least he was sure Ortho’s logic processors were working as irritatingly well as ever, though Idia found his points far too idealistic. But logos wasn’t the way to go when talking Idia into something he had no interest in doing- it would have to be pathos all the way baby, appealing to what really made him tick. Unfortunately for him, Ortho knew that too.

“I need you to make a friend before you graduate,” he said abruptly, arms crossed like he was prepared for a one shot k.o. “Just one. I’m sorry I gave them your number without permission, but I really think this could be fun. You make the coolest stuff ever, and it’s your favorite holiday, so I thought it was a good opportunity for you to talk to someone.” He was silent for only a moment, as if deciding whether or not to deliver the final blow. “I just need to know my big brother will be okay after graduation. And I’d like to see you have fun every once and a while, you know.”

There it was, the absolute punch in the gut Idia was dreading. “You see me having fun all the time, Ortho. We hang out every day.” It was a weak argument and he knew it.

“Yeah and I love hanging out with you, but that’s different! And I know other people would love hanging out with you, too! You’re the coolest person ever, big bro.”

And how could he ever say no to that?

“What’s the costume anyway?” Idia muttered, pulling his lower lip between sharp teeth.

“I’m not sure. They told me it was someone from a manga they really like! You should ask them about it!” Ortho was absolutely beaming. Something in Idia’s chest ached.

His response to your message was short and simple. He asked what your inspiration would be, and what prop you were looking for. Price could be negotiated, etcetera.

You responded with astounding speed; it made him nauseous. At least you were courteous, though. You gave him a lot of info to say the least- more than he needed considering he was a fan of the same series. Ortho had definitely known that, but that was a complaint for some other time. He had to admit it was a good choice- and the character you had in mind would suit you well (he’d never put that in writing so long as he lived). You sent him all of your inspo pictures- purely from the manga, you explained, as the anime adaptation had changed some of the details and you had a strong preference- as well as any measurements he might need. Idia couldn’t resist pointing out that the anime had made a number of phenomenal aesthetic choices, which did start somewhat of a tangent. Before he knew it, he was caught in a back and forth with you. It was… easy. Way easier than he had expected. When you stopped replying he was even a little disheartened; that is until he realized it was nearly 4 am. It had been that long of a conversation? Something about that made him warm all over. He’d ignore it for the moment.

When you messaged him back the following morning he felt the same rush of… something wash over him. And so a tentative back and forth between you two began. Draft sketches and material concepts on his end, and what felt like endless amounts of praise from you. That’s not to say you never brought any criticism to the table. You were just as fickle as he was, it seemed- and he liked arguing with you. Whether it was about the commission or over some unrelated tangent (which the two of you frequently succumbed to), there was something uniquely fun about debating your shared interests.

Over the week or so leading up to Halloween, your communication persisted outside of his prop updates. You even sent him photos of Grim! It was hard to stomach that he’d hit it off so well with some normie, but if you were sending him cat photos and had some (several) based media takes he’d tolerate that discomfort. Part of him kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, of course. The exchange was transactional- after Ortho delivered the prop to you, there would be no need to keep socializing with him. He couldn’t imagine why you’d want to anyway. Speaking of transactions, the two of you hadn’t decided on a price point. Or rather whenever you’d ask, he pushed the question aside by saying he ‘wasn’t sure yet’. He’d given you a relative range, but no exact number. He felt pathetic, but part of him didn’t even want to charge you for it. It wasn’t like he needed the money anyway, and Ortho had been right about the whole arrangement entertaining him. He couldn’t believe he was going so soft. But it wasn’t entirely his fault! Every time he’d start to work up the nerve to give a number, you’d do something so nice it made his head hurt. Sometimes it was asking questions about his games, or sending him voice messages so you could keep the conversation going when you couldn’t text. You’d even asked to vc once or twice! He’d denied that request, but nonetheless you asked! How was he supposed to follow that up? “Oh haha yeah, it’ll be like half your last paycheck sry lmao”? He’d rather die! He knew what his work was worth (and frankly so did you), but the idea of charging you that amount was a little nauseating. How fucking lame could he get?

And the other shoe did drop eventually, just not in the way he’d expected. It came as a lull in your late night banter, followed by ‘[name] is typing…’ for quite some time. That totally didn’t make him want to puke, no way. The message that followed was as short as it was sweet.

“Hey, so ik it’s not really your scene, but I’m having a Halloween thing at Ramshackle. Idk if I’d call it a party but yk it’s something. I was wondering if you’d want to stop by? If not that’s totally cool!”

Idia stared at that message for a while. Shit. Of course there was no way he’d go, not a chance, but he couldn’t just say that could he? He’d rather be dropped headlong into Tartarus than to go to some gathering of extroverts and npcs when he could be collecting his Halloween login rewards. At the same time, giving you a resounding ‘fuck no’ sounded just as unpleasant. So he just sat there and stared for a while before doing what he did best: he gave some vague, noncommittal answer.

“uhhh idk. I don’t wanna intrude haha. plus i have a raid planned so idk if i could make it sry”.

It seemed like you got what he was trying to say; Idia was beginning to resent just how well you listened to him.

“Totally get it! Just thought I’d ask :)! Send pics of ur costume tho! I wanna see it all put together :D!”

He tossed his phone aside, opting to throw himself face down in his pillow with a resounding groan. Why did you have to be so considerate? You had to have known he’d reject that request, so why even ask? And why did it mean so much to him that you had? His moping was interrupted by Ortho knocking at the door. Idia just grunted in response, turning his head to face him.

“What’s the matter bro?” Ortho hovered in the doorway, glowing eyes keenly focused on Idia’s sprawled figure. At times like this, only illuminated by blue screens and his own artificial fire, he had an uncanny effect that was hard to shake.

Idia peeked at him through his flickering bangs, huffing a little and sending the flames askew. He subsequently realized that they were streaked with a mortifying shade of pink, one that made him want to scream into the pillow all over again. “Nothing, I’m good. What’s up?” It was obviously a lie and he wasn’t helping his case by rolling over to face the wall.

“I wanted to see if you were up for a few pvp rounds before I set up to charge for the night. But what’s going on? My scanners detect no signs of physical injury, but your vitals indicate distress. Do you need medical attention?” Idia didn’t have to turn around to know his ‘brother’ had hovered closer.

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid-,” he planted his face back into the pillow defeatedly. “It’s- [name] invited me to some stupid Halloween thing.” It was muffled, but that didn’t matter. There was no way Ortho wouldn’t hear him, so there was no need to sit up.

“They invited you to a party? That’s awesome! We could go together! I know, you could even give them the prop in person and see their costume completed!”

“I’m not going.”

“What? Why not? You’ve had so much fun talking to them and working on this commission! You should go see them!” Ortho was gearing up for another uphill battle, one Idia was once again going to resist him on.

“Because I don’t want to. You can go, I guess. I mean I’m sure you’re invited. That’s probably why they asked me, right? Because we’re a package deal? You’ll have more fun without me there to weigh you down. And anyway, I don’t wanna be around that many people. It’ll probably be total npc shit anyway.” He fell silent for a moment, the quiet whir of machine fans filling the air in his stead. Ortho didn’t try to interject.

“It’s not like- it’s not like they wanna see me anyway. Maybe my costume, I mean its S tier, but not me. And I can’t even get on a vc with them- I’d be seriously delusional if I thought I could hang out with them irl.”

“Hey, they totally want to see you. I mean, I’m sure they want to see your costume too. But I know they want to see you. If you don’t feel like going that's okay, but I don’t want you to miss out because you think their invitation wasn’t genuine.”

“Why? Like I know we get along fine over chat, and they’ve interacted with my tablet, but what if they see me irl and get all weirded out? ‘Oh, why is he blue all over? What’s with his teeth? Ewww’. I think I’ll pass.” He chewed at his sleeve, nervous over the mere prospect of facing you like that. “Even if they’ve seen me in passing like once, being up close is a whole other level.”

There was another long pause before Ortho spoke again. “They like your hair.”

“What?”

“They told me they like your hair. Like you said, they’ve seen you irl once or twice in passing. Should I play the recording for you?”

Idia felt a little conflicted about that. It felt a little invasive somehow. But a far less conflicted part of him (his massive ego) needed to hear it, and ultimately triumphed. “Yeah, fine. Go ahead.” He curbed his anxious enthusiasm by biting his sleeve even harder.

“Sure thing! Commencing playback.” There was the sudden background noise of hallway chatter, followed by your voice. “I think I saw your brother in the library yesterday. Well, I’m assuming it was him, he looked a lot like you. He’s got great hair, I’ve never seen anything like it. It must’ve taken forever to grow it out that long.”

There was a measured click as the clip came to a stop. “Recording ends. See? They don’t think you look weird. And there’s nothing else in my data logs to indicate that they would.”

“That’s… not exactly reassuring,” Idia muttered, watching as the mess of curls surrounding him flickered to life with the same rosy hues as before. Of course you wouldn’t tell Ortho that you thought he looked weird, that was his brother. But nevertheless, that was technically a compliment. A win was a win right?

“We should go, I think they’d love to see you there in person. We could even go super early to drop off the prop and leave before everyone else gets there,” Ortho chimed in, clearly trying to find some loophole in his brother’s anxiety. “And we can show off our costumes again.” There was another long pause.

“Fine. But just to drop it off.”

The remaining few days passed without incident, aside from Idia’s mounting anxieties (which he was sure would culminate in sudden death). Half dressed for the function, he sat on the edge of his bed and sent you photos of the final product. At the very least he was sure you’d like it- how could you not? He was a master craftsman after all. Your response came back at the typical lightning speed. He doubted he’d ever get used to that.

“Holy shit, it’s perfect??? Thank you so so much, I love it!! <3 did u sign it?”

“no lmao?? y?”

“Bc it’s your work??? And u should be proud of it and put ur name on it ??? Duh??? And bc I want you to ofc.”

Well that was certainly unexpected. He sat there for a minute and mulled it over- what could you possibly gain from him signing it? Did you really just want that, plain and simple? God you were fucking weird. It did feel kind of nice though. Nice enough for a smile to fight its way onto his face as he meandered back to his workstation. What was the harm in indulging that request?

“can do ig. i charge extra for autographs tho, soz. so ik ortho was gonna drop this off, but is it cool if i come? want to make sure it doesn’t need any adjustments etc yk”

Even though it took him a few (fifteen) minutes to type, it came out smoother than he’d expected. He’d consider it a win. Of course the piece didn’t need any adjusting, it was perfect and he knew it, but he had to justify his sudden appearance (mostly to himself).

“You can make it ??? Nice !!! Yeah ofc! Come over whenever :D !!! <3”

Hearts. Were you trying to kill him? And why did your texts read like the logs of a dating sim? Maybe he should lay off the otome games.

Getting fully into costume was a little more complicated than he’d anticipated. Combined with putting the finishing touches on Ortho’s matching specs and engraving an insignia onto your prop, there was no way the Shroud duo would arrive early. In fact, they’d be perfectly punctual (which Idia loathed). Halfway up the driveway to Ramshackle he started digging his heels into the dirt. Even from a distance he could see light streaming through the dingy windows, along with far too many figures crowded on the porch. Part of him wondered how many students such a dilapidated structure could support- he decided to drop that train of thought before he collapsed in your front yard. “Hey- maybe this is a bad idea. Even if they wanna see me-“

But it was too late. Cater was the first to spot the two, and immediately came down the stairs to greet them. Oh great, a boss level extrovert right off the bat? He had to get out of here!

“Hey hey! I didn’t expect to see you two here! Ooh, whatcha got there? And nice costumes! Did you make them yourself?” The redhead had a cup in one hand and his cellphone in the other, his head cocked as he observed the brothers.

Idia’s mouth just sort of stopped working, and the more questions Cater asked the more he wanted to dip out. Luckily Ortho was way better at navigating normie conversations.

“Hi Cater Diamond! [Name] invited us! And yes my brother made our costumes, aren’t they so cool? We’re kind of in a hurry though, we have the last piece of [Name]’s costume! Once we get it to them, we’ll have more time to talk.” He started to move past Cater, who was now more than ready to usher them through the throng of people in the foyer. Idia followed behind in amazement. Having Ortho around was such an op move.

“Oh nice! They should still be upstairs. Once they’re all set the three of you should come back down so I can snap your pics, ‘kay? You guys really went all out!” Cater slipped away easily before either brother could refuse his invitation. Well, Idia would just have to make sure the coast was clear when he decided to make his escape. The two made their way up the rickety staircase (seriously, how was this place still standing?) and onto the landing above. Your bedroom door was open so at the very least you were easy to locate. Before Idia would go any further he slipped on the pumpkin helmet, properly obscuring his face. That felt a little better- maybe he’d actually be able to look at you.

He lingered behind Ortho as if it would block him from your view (despite being much taller than the android model), knocking at the door frame twice. “Uh… hey. Can we come in?”

You looked up from your phone with a start, eyes widening as you took them in. “Idia? Wait, holy shit, you guys look sick.” You were fully in costume- had you been waiting for them? The way you said his name nearly made him keel over right then and there. “Like I knew they would be cool, but this is insane.” Your gaze flickered to the prop in his hands. “And that’s for me? Dude, it’s perfect. Seriously, thank you so much. I’m so glad you came.”

Idia didn’t process half of it, including you taking the prop from his grasp. You looked so good he felt lightheaded. Forget talking to you, now he was worried about remaining upright. “You- uh- yeah. You too,” he stammered weakly. You too? That didn’t make any sense! “I mean- I mean you look cool. And yeah this is for you.” Breathing in the helmet was a bit of a challenge and he couldn’t recall a time his throat had ever been drier. Ortho made no effort to intervene either- he was just watching, practically on standby mode as his brother made a fool of himself. Great. So much for his op cheat code.

He decided that looking anywhere but at you was his best option, his eyes scanning along the walls of your bedroom. It did look liveable, he’d give you that much. You even had a small shelf with a decently sized manga collection- considering how long you’d been there and the wages Monstro paid, he was kind of impressed. It was cute (you were cute). Your voice snapped him back out of his meditative scanning.

“Sorry there are so many people. I would’ve given you a heads up, but I had no idea it would be this crazy. People just started posting about it and,” you sighed. “So now like half the school is in my condemned house. Happy Halloween I guess? Deuce and Jack got a few of the other first years to preemptively agree to help with post party cleanup, so that’s nice.” You were still looking at him intently; Idia had to remind himself that you were checking out his costume and not him, of course. Unfortunately that didn’t stop the ends of his hair from flickering a dull but obvious pink. He knew it caught your attention, but you didn’t mention it. Instead you opted to change the subject entirely. By the Seven, how were you so good at this? “Anyway, I wanna hear all about your costumes. I got bits and pieces over messages but give me the rundown!”

Now that he could do.

Infodumping was an art form, and boy had Idia Shroud mastered it. From the materials he used to the classic inspo, he was more than happy to tell you all about his creations. It took him a little warming up, but he was quickly in full swing. Down to the sound effect rigging, he gave you a thorough explanation of his work. You seemed particularly delighted in how he and Ortho’s costumes were a matching pair, and of course that opened the floor for him to explain the intricacies of making new specs for his brother. In his excited haste, he’d even taken off the helmet to show you its interior. He didn’t notice for quite a while, nor did you make any mention of it. You just watched him, smiling and nodding attentively. By the time he picked up on just how greatly his range of vision had improved, it was far too late. With his peripheral unblocked he also realized that Ortho was gone. A wave of panic washed over him as he reassessed his surroundings. It was just the two of you, standing beyond the threshold of your bedroom, alone. How long had he been talking? And why were you looking at him with those big, starry eyes? He tried to tell you to stop staring, but no sound came out. Once again, Idia was convinced he was going to die.

You definitely caught onto his nervous demeanor- he wished you’d stop doing that. “Hey, so how much do I owe you?” You asked, your voice gentler than he’d realistically want it to be. Why were you being so nice to him? You had the prop already, so just kick him out! There was a whole party going on downstairs, yet here you were spending god only knows how long alone with him! Wasn’t that depressing?

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t a hard ask, and only noobs care about production costs,” he muttered, his tone not entirely unkind but thoroughly dismissive nonetheless.

“Oh- are you sure? Idia, it’s really beautifully done. Even if it wasn’t hard to do, you still took the time to do it. I owe you something.”

“I could make another one in my sleep. Just take it,” he was planning his escape, but could see no easy way out besides just turning tail and running. “Sorry for uh- well, for keeping you up here for so long. You’ve got a party to get to.”

“I’ll take it if you’re sure. Thank you, seriously. And don’t apologize, I like talking to you. I know this really isn’t your scene, so I really appreciate you coming out tonight.” The way you looked at him had him itching to put the helmet back on in record time. Your next words would foil even that half baked plan and freeze him in place. “If you wanted, maybe you could come over and hang out sometime? It’s not normally this crowded, it’s usually just Grim and I. You’re welcome here whenever, and so is Ortho.”

Every turn of phrase felt like you were whittling a hole in his brain, which made it increasingly difficult to think straight. What angle were you trying to work here? Was it just to embarrass him? He couldn’t think of a single thing you could gain from befriending him, which frankly made your kindness even more concerning. You had him one friendly gesture away from counting five things he could see, four things he could touch, and so on in the middle of the function. “I’m gonna go find Ortho,” he stated, abruptly turning on his heel. Now was not the time to go nonverbal, but that was steadily where he was headed. And he’d been doing so well! He’d talked to you irl, face to face! You hadn’t even seemed grossed out- if anything it felt like the opposite (which he would ignore). But of course his brain had to catch up and ruin everything. No, he had to ruin everything, just like always. This fucking sucked. The pumpkin helmet was back on, and he wasn’t showing his face until he was safely back at Ignihyde.

“Oh! Yeah, of course. I’ll walk down with you.” You wasted no time following after him, still holding your new prop. The trip down the main staircase was a silent one, but the raucous sounds of the party below more than made up for it. You didn’t push him to speak, which he was begrudgingly grateful for.

It was no surprise that your arrival from upstairs with Idia in tow drew a little attention. Cater even snapped a photo, saying something about how “cammable” you two looked (Idia didn’t have the strength to wonder where that photo would end up). You handled your entrance to the gathering like a pro, deflecting all the attention away from him with a small smile. He really couldn’t decide whether or not he hated how considerate you were, but that would be a viable train of thought once he was safely in his own bedroom. As he slipped away to find Ortho, he heard you discussing your costume with those gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Working up the nerve to risk a look back, he saw you proudly showing off the piece he’d made for you. The way you were so eager to credit him for it was debilitating.

Part of him wondered what would happen if he walked back over and joined the crowd. He knew he didn’t belong there, of course, but hypothetically. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining what it would be like to stand there by your side for just a little longer, to even let people photograph the two of you together. You hadn’t seemed to mind it a moment before. But maybe you were just being nice. You were always so nice. Regardless these were only hypotheticals, and he was bound to ruin your time if he stayed any longer. He’d be doing you a favor by leaving, right?

Right. With one last look at you, he resolved to find Ortho and get the hell out while he could, for your sake and his own.

Maybe next year, then.

——————————————————————————

Tag list: @v-anrouge @vtoriacore @phoneymedic @gum-gum-time @heatofmyexoheart (dm to be removed or added! <3)

Soz for not posting for a while (and this late as hell Halloween fic eek!), I obliterated my ankle about a week ago and have just been taking time to recover (that is a lie I’ve had to go to work every day on it but I digress!!!)

[tokyo-debunker-idk]

Crushed | 03

Summary: He's tried to convince Leo that you're a cool person, to which the former just scoffs and accuses Sho of having a crush. Honestly, the reaction is obnoxious – people of the opposite sex are perfectly able to have platonic friendships. Just because Sho's taken to bringing an extra lunch for you on training days so you can eat together after, and he enjoys spending time with you, and you're pretty and smell good even after an hour of sparring, doesn't mean he has a crush.

Pairing: Haizono Sho x Reader x Kurosagi Leo

Genre: Humor, romantic comedy, slowish burn, no real plot, Leo bullying

18+, minors DNI

~~~~~

"Besides, what are a few nobodies compared to the shit you've been dealing with anyway? You can handle it."

You finally realize what's been bothering you since you confronted Leo at the Vagastrom dorms (outside of the usual annoyance of Leo's general existence).

His response, despite his condescending tone… had been worded suspiciously like a compliment. Which, since it's Leo, means it probably wasn't.

"YoU cAn hAndLe iT," you mutter quietly to yourself, imitating the TikTok asshole's haughty tone. "Fuck off."

It makes you even more annoyed about the stupid sympathy that flared up when Leo mentioned death threats. He doesn't deserve your consideration, but your empathetic ass doesn't care about logical little details like that.

Sure, you've seen horrible comments and exchanges online in fan wars, but it's always been as a spectator. Receiving such disturbing messages personally, ranging from unhinged fans who call you ugly (whatever) to those that wish vile things upon you (less whatever) to others that send inappropriate pictures you wish you could unsee (your eyes, your poor non-quite-virgin eyes)… it's affected you much more than you would have expected.

For you it's mostly a weird blip in your life, and you can just deactivate an account you rarely used in the first place. Since you're stuck at Darkwick, it's not like your social life in the "real" world is exactly popping off, anyway. Despite logically knowing that nothing will happen to you, that the vitriol is being spewed by complete strangers who don't know you at all, you still feel shaken at the reminder that regular humans can be even worse than many of the anomalies you've experienced.

Even the sparse comments about you being cute together (which are repulsive in their own way, for obvious reasons) feel weird and invasive, as if you're their friend. It's like they think they know you, and that their opinion matters enough for you to hear it.

Leo deals with all of that constantly? Sure, he basically signed up for it and is apparently completely fine, but it still just… doesn't feel right.

Yeah, you dislike him, but he's not exactly evil. He's a douche who cares more about himself than anyone else, which is not a rare trait in the world. He just also happens to have brains and guts, without the morals that would keep him from using those around him.

So, a shitty guy, but not the absolute worst. At least, not evil enough for the insane hostility you received firsthand.

Then again, he's gotten those types of messages and was more than willing to put you in the line of fire. So maybe he is a little evil.

Why did he even post you to his TikTok as his girlfriend, anyway? For all his apparent dismissiveness of your capabilities, the guy is definitely way too vain to choose any random passerby, even if he later reveals it to be a joke. In its own fucked up little way, it's almost a compliment that he seems to think you're objectively attractive enough to be a believable partner to his audience.

Not that you're flattered.

Well… a small, petty part of you kind of is, because while Leo acts like a steaming pile of garbage, he's a steaming pile of garbage with taste.

Huh, then maybe he did actually mean what he said about you being able to handle it?

Nah, that can't be right.

Whatever. You have more important things to worry about than a toxic, twink-shaped gremlin. Like your new assignment with the Jabberwock ghouls. That should be your current number-one priority. You should probably go over the investigation notes right now, actually.

SHOulders: Hey Y/N, u free?

You're a strong independent woman who can prioritize important, life-altering tasks over silly crushes. You are, you can resist–

You: Yeah! What's up?

~~~~~

"So? What do you think of the sign?"

"It's amazing! It's even more impressive than it was in the photo."

Sho grins at your compliments, though he tries not to show just how pleased he is about your heartfelt praise.

"Didn't I say flattery'll get you nowhere?"

He's lying, of course. Flattery from you is always welcome, because he can tell you mean it. It's also why he's asked you to look at his menu and signboard before officializing the food truck – you'll give him your honest thoughts. Leo would have opinions on things that are trending, but Sho doesn't really want to rely on gimmicks. For all his irritation with the restrictions at Darkwick (and having to deal with his annoying ass brother), this food truck is something he's actually excited about.

Sho doesn't tend to take most things seriously… he's naturally intelligent and athletic, so he's never really had to try hard to get by. Not wanting anything badly means he'll never be disappointed if something doesn't pan out. Besides, Leo's the type of best friend to make fun of any endeavor or interest he doesn't deem worthy.

But you're different.

You work so hard every day to make up for the qualities you believe you lack, from struggling through workouts to staying up late to catch up on the classwork you miss due to being sent on missions. Maybe once he would have scoffed at your efforts, but instead, it gives him the courage to try something new.

It's safe to show you how much the food truck actually means to him. You're the one who constantly raves about his food, whose encouragement and support has helped his tiny idea grow into an actual dream. He trusts you.

"Do you have a date?"

Huh? A date for what? Why do you want to know about his love life? Or is this your way of asking him to –

You hand back the menu you were looking at, and Sho realizes you mean for his food truck opening.

Right. Thank goodness, because you guys have a good friendship that does not need to be complicated by anything like that.

"By next week, I guess? So long as no one gets in my way."

"I'm really looking forward to it!"

Yeah, the sensation in his chest is most definitely relief, not disappointment.

~~~~~

"What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too, Kurokawa," you reply drily as you put down your heavy bag, unsurprised by Leo's unwelcoming greeting. He's lounging on a couch in the common area, and you suppress an internal sigh.

It's not surprising to run into him at the Vagastrom dorm, but you had hoped he was out turning princes into frogs, forcing poor parents to exchange their firstborn for vegetables, or whatever it is he does for fun.

"It's Kurosagi."

You ignore his correction, because you know it pisses him off.

You sometimes wonder why Sho bothers with Leo when you've never seen Leo do anything nice for his so-called best friend, but it's not your place to judge. You're mature enough to understand that there's a history there you're not aware of, and that you've only known them for a very short period of time.

"Maybe I'm here to see my darling influencer boyfriend," you say sarcastically, giving him the fakest smile you can manage as you plop down next to him. You know he doesn't like you, so it's another easy way to annoy him (if at your own expense). "How could I go a day without seeing that pretty face?"

You're mature enough to understand. That doesn't mean you're mature enough to not hate it. If you can't avoid Leo, you're going to do your best to be as annoying as possible when you do have to interact with him.

"Ugh, don't sit so close," Leo grumbles, despite not making a single move to move away like the lazy little princess he is. He does smell nice though, probably some trendy cologne that he uses to cover up the stench of his rotten personality. "Have you even showered today?"

Wow. You know you smell nice because you did, in fact, shower today. Right before coming here, to be exact, because despite Sho's knowledge of your sweaty form after training sessions, you want his memories to be of you fresh and perfumed.

There is really no need for Leo to be so fucking rude all the fucking time. Especially when you've done nothing to deserve it but apparently have the audacity to exist in his presence. If anything, you've been downright charitable in never bringing up "the incident" at the Pit. Though if you're being honest, it's also something you don't want to remember, because the knowledge that you willingly ground up against his dick – even if it was out of spite – is too embarrassing to think about.

Sure, he's pretty, but you have your standards.

Why are you even thinking about this right now? Clearly you have been spending way too much time either studying, doing odd jobs for the ghouls, and daydreaming about Sho if you're even thinking of Leo in any sexual-adjacent light. You don't even really want to think about him at all.

You know that being ignored is one of the things that bothers him most of all (an attention-seeking diva, truly), so you grab a textbook out of your bag and begin to read.

~~~~~

Leo knows he's an asshole.

He's perfectly fine with it. Sometimes, it even sparks joy.

Such as now, when you're scowling at him in a way that makes him want to antagonize you even further. You're always so nice and friendly to everyone that it's satisfying to be the one to elicit a different reaction out of you. It's a matter of pride that he's the only one that can make you lose your temper.

Besides, it's not his fault you look so cute when you're pissed off.

Leo freezes when he realizes what just crossed his mind, but before he can figure out exactly where that ridiculous thought came from, you're pulling a textbook out of your bag.

… Are you seriously about to study while sitting so close to Leo he can smell your flowery shampoo?

"Can I help you, Kurohagi?"

His eyebrow twitches, and he realizes he's been staring at you. And that you fucked up his last name, again.

"You're getting very comfortable, aren't you?" he replies in a scornfully, wondering why exactly you're even visiting when Leo's the only one here.

Unless… you came to see him. Maybe you're just playing it off as if you weren't, to save face. Why else would you even sit so close to him, anyway?

"I'm just waiting for Sho to get back, he said he'd be here soon," you reply with a shrug that annoys Leo for reasons he can't explain. Your answer makes far more sense, and yet that just pisses him off even more. So he does what he does best.

"It's cute how you're being such a good little gofer for Sho," he says mildly, pretending not to care one way or the other. "He's always been good at getting people to do things for him."

You stiffen, and uncertainty flits across your face before you straighten your expression. Though you're obviously trying to hide it, the way you shift away from him reveals that he hit a nerve.

It was exactly what he was going for, but the usual satisfaction feels hollow, as if the words have left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. You don't snap back with your usual fire the way he expected. Instead you just look back at your book, and the sour feeling magnifies.

An oppressive silence blankets the two of you while unfamiliar pressure weighs down his chest, and Leo is almost relieved when the tell-tale sound of a rumbling engine signals Sho's arrival.

His friend's face brightens instantly when his eyes land on you, which irritates Leo in a way he can't explain. You smile back, though it's more subdued than usual.

"I brought the rest of the stuff from the diner," you call out, and the way Sho jogs to greet you seems to restore some of the sparkle in your eyes. It does not alleviate some of the heaviness Leo is feeling.

"Awesome, thanks," Sho replies with a grin. "You know you didn't have to, right?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to."

Barf. Are you guys fucking serious? It's nauseating, the way Sho is smiling at you like a lovesick puppy. Does he have no pride at all?

"Oh, Leo," Sho calls. Great, he's finally been noticed.

"What?" Leo replies a little petulantly, crossing his arms. Everything about this situation is pissing him off, and he doesn't even understand why.

"Stop pouting and help me out, I was able to pick up some liquor when I went on my grocery run."

"Ugh, fine," he grumbles, mollified by the promise of a night of drinking. It's sadly the closest they can get to clubbing when Darkwick watches their every move.

Leo stands to help grab some of Sho's bags and notices that you're hanging back with an uncertain look on your face. Are you stupid enough to actually take Leo's words to heart when it's obvious you have his best friend wrapped around your pretty little finger?

"Are you coming or not?" he asks testily, shoving a few bags in your direction. "We're not sharing if you don't help."

Your eyes widen at the implied invitation, and even Sho makes a sound of surprise.

"I… uh… yeah," you stammer, hurrying up from the couch to take the bag Leo is holding out. "Thanks?"

You still look and sound confused, but the smile you give him is genuine. It's the first time he's been on the receiving end of that particular expression of yours, and sunlight eases the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. It's similarly disconcerting, and Leo has no idea what to make of it.

"Whatever, just hurry up."

~~~~~

Prev | Masterlist | Next

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Counting Stars

Summary: Mel didn't know she would ever get out of the hospital that had become her prison. Year after year she lost everything. But then when she finally got the chance to escape she took it. And all thanks to the man who took down everything in his path to get to his daughter. Joel Miller.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Melanie Summer

Wordcount: 2.1k

Rating: T

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Angst, Guns, Violence, Lies, Pregnancy, talk about forced pregnancies, talk about childbirth, mention of child death, mentions of human experiments, character death, slowish burn, changing POV's

A/N: Did I plan to write this? No. Do I know how often I'm gonna update this? Also no.

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified for updates

Counting Stars Masterlist

He wasn’t thinking clearly. 

No. 

That was a lie.

It was probably the first time in a long time that he was thinking clearly. His only thought was to get Ellie and get her out of this god forsaken hospital and to safety. 

No matter the costs. 

He should have known they were gonna pull something like that. In what fucking world was he living that people were willing to sacrifice innocent kids?

Deep down he feared that even if Ellie had been given a choice, she would have chosen to go through with it. But he couldn’t think about it now. 

He could not lose her. He could not lose another child. 

He didn’t know how many Fireflies he shot on his way to pediatrics. He didn’t care about how many Fireflies he shot to get to her.  

Deadly calm he took out everyone in his way until he found himself in front of the operation room. Surely they knew he was coming, the gunshots echoing through the whole building. That was good. He wanted them to know what was coming for whoever intended to kill an innocent girl for a chance of a cure. 

As if that shit would really work. 

Even if it would work, it would just be another way for the Fireflies to seek control over everything and everyone.

A noise behind him had him whip his head around, his gun pointing at the intruder, his finger hovering over the trigger. 

It was a woman.

Dressed only in a dirty hospital gown. His eyes scanned her all over, finding both of her wrists bloodied and bruised. She looked sick, no exhausted. 

“Please….” she whispered, one of her hands holding on to the doorway to keep herself upright, her other hand laying protectively on her belly. He inhaled sharply. She was pregnant. 

He didn’t have time for that. He should take care of her. Shoot her right then and there. But something held him back. 

Closing his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath he turned away from her and opened the door to take care of getting Ellie out of there. 

Mel thought she was dreaming at first when she came back to consciousness. 

Her eyelids felt heavy, too heavy to properly open her eyes at first. 

Gunshots.

There were gunshots outside. 

That must have been what woke her from her deep, medically induced, sleep.

Trying to move her arm she was surprised she could, having been cuffed to the bed for… she couldn’t really remember when her wrists hadn’t been in handcuffs the last time. Even when she was allowed to get out of bed, there was always someone with her. She wasn’t even allowed to go to the bathroom by herself. All because of her “important purpose”.

They said it was to keep her safe. 

But she knew that was a lie. 

They were only interested in what was growing inside of her. Her hand shakily found her swollen belly. She thinks she was in the seventh month? She didn’t know how long she had been out. Finally blinking her eyes open, she found that her wrists still were swollen, so it couldn’t be too long. 

But… why wasn’t she handcuffed?

And… why was no one with her?

The gunshots came closer and she groaned as she sat herself up, slipping her legs out of bed, getting up shakily. 

Tears escaped her eyes, when she felt the baby, a girl as she had learned from fucking Marlene, move inside of her. She didn’t know why they kept telling her what sex the baby had when they would take them away from her anyway. 

Some fucking torture, as if keeping her pregnant against her will for… she didn’t know exactly how many years now, wasn’t torture enough. 

She was tired. 

She did not want to be here. But she was all because she trusted the wrong person with her secret. Someone who sold her over some fucking supplies so the Fireflies could keep her as living incubator. 

Because Mel was immune to cordyceps and someone who wasn’t even a real Doctor was telling anyone he could find a cure if he just had enough source material. 

Source Material. 

She wasn’t even a human being to them, just some… thing to get to what they wanted. Or more like dreamed.

Gathering all her strength she waddled over to the door, a sigh of relief escaping her when she found it unlocked. 

A dead Firefly was laying on the floor as she looked inside the corridor.

Her hand held onto the doorway, startled when a man across the floor turned around to her, his gun pointed at her. 

Adrenaline shot through her veins. 

Who was he?

What was he doing here?

“Please,” she whispered, her hand on her belly. She didn’t know what she was pleading for. Her death or his help. 

He just kept looking at her with dark eyes, inhaling sharply. 

After a moment he turned away from her and walked into the operating room, leaving her alone again. 

She leaned her head against the doorway, closing her eyes. 

Her baby kicked again. 

She knew that this most likely would be her only chance. Turning back around she went back into her room in search of some clothing. She had been allowed to go outside a month or so ago, so there should be some shoes and some clothes. 

She heard some gunshots, startling her again, as she got dressed. 

She threw everything she thought she could need, some bottles of water, some food, some medicine, on the bed cloth before she grabbed it to make a makeshift sack out of it. Throwing it over her shoulder she could only hope the man had taken care of all the Fireflies as she slowly made her way out of her prison and down the hall, where she knew the stairs were. 

Joel was carrying his Ellie in his arms down the corridor to the elevator, hoping it would world and bring him down into the parking garage, gun still in his hand hidden from view. He hoped he would find a car he could use to get them the fuck out of here. 

He was about to round the corner to the elevator when he found the woman inside, her hand holding it open for him.

It was her, the pregnant woman from before. 

She was looking up at him with her green eyes, before her eyes flew to the girl in his arms. His jaw twitched. He should have shot her, but something held him back. He continued to look at her, swallowing harshly when he noticed a familiar scar on her temple.

“Will she be okay?” she asked. 

He narrowed his eyes at her, before he gave her a nod. 

“Good. Take her as far away from them as you can,” she nodded at him, stepping back and Joel didn’t know why, but he got into the elevator with her, pressing the button to the underground garage. 

The door opened and the woman was about to step outside, when he told her to wait. 

“Look if there’s someone out there first,” he said. She nodded, taking a careful look around. 

“I don’t think there’s anyone out,” she whispered. 

“Okay,” he nodded, following her out, looking around carefully. The adrenaline was wearing off and his knees were killing him. 

There were some cars here, some looking newer than others. 

The woman was already making her way to one of the cars, batteries charging in front of them.

He knew he should just take Ellie and leave. It was the easier choice really. This woman he just met was nothing to him. Just a random woman he spared while taking down all the Fireflies that only breathed in his dau… Ellie’s direction. 

A woman with at least one scar on the same spot as he had one.

“You can’t keep her safe forever,” he turned around, finding Marlene walking towards him, her gun pointed at him. 

“No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, she's gonna grow up, Joel. And then you'll die. She'll leave. Then what? How long till she's torn apart by Infected or murdered by raiders? Because she lives in a broken world that you could have saved,” Marlene said. 

Maybe she would have gotten through to him months ago, before the girl in his arms became his whole world. 

But that Joel didn’t exist anymore. He looked at Ellie in his arms.

“Maybe. But it isn't for you to decide,” he said. He saw Marlene’s eyes focus on something behind him, most likely the pregnant woman, yet he didn’t dare to turn around. And a weird case of panic took over his body. He had to protect her. Them. Ellie and the woman.

“Or you. So what would she decide, huh? 'Cause I think she'd wanna do what's right. And you know it. It's not too late. Even now... even after what you've done. We can still find a way,” Marlene lowered the gun, seemingly feeling safe that she was getting through to him. 

She should have known better.

Mel had lowered her makeshift sack on the ground when she heard Marlene’s voice. 

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, still covered behind the car, hoping the woman hadn’t seen her. Taking a deep breath she looked around for something she could use as a weapon, almost crying out in relief when she found several guns on the backseat of the car.

After checking if they were loaded she decided that it was time to end this for all time. She did not want to be on the run for the rest of her life, hoping that the man had taken care of as many of these so-called saviours as possible. 

She listened to Marlene trying to convince the man to make the right choice. To let the girl go. That they could still find a way. 

Mel was used to their talks. Before Marlene there was Wyatt who told her the same lies over and over. As if she had a choice in their scheme.

“Why do you get to decide what is right?” she stepped next to the man, her gun pointed at Marlene who somewhat looked surprised at her, her gun pointing back up.

“Do you think it’s right what you did to me? What you wanted to do to his child? Does it make you feel better if you keep telling yourself all those lies?!”

“I am not lying. You both are the key to ending all of this,” Marlene insisted. 

Mel shot Marlene’s leg, making the man next to her flinch. 

“Fucking liar!” she screamed, getting closer to her, only stopped when the man came to stop in front of her. She looked at him, her gun still pointed at Marlene who was groaning in pain. 

“We all have to make sacrifices to end this,” Marlene wheezed. 

“Sacrifices?” Mel scoffed, stepping around the man so she could look Marlene into her eyes. “What kind of sacrifices did you have to make? Huh?”

Marlene glared at Mel.

“Is that what you call making me go through five pregnancies and taking my babies away from me as soon as they were out to experiment on them? To kill them?”

Something broke in Joel when he heard those words coming from he woman next to him 

“But you won’t have this baby. And you won’t have her either,” she said, before shooting Marlene again, this time in the stomach. She turned around, catching Joel’s eyes as she made her way back to the car. 

Joel decided to follow her, not seeing Marlene as a big threat at the moment. 

“You're gonna regret this. You gonna fucking regret this,” Marlene hissed after them but they weren’t listening. The woman helped him lie Ellie carefully on the backseat. 

“Get into the passenger's seat,” he murmured at her and she looked at him. 

“You sure?” she asked. Against all odds he found himself nodding, checking Ellie for one last time before he went back to Marlene.

“No, wait. Wait, wait, wait,” Marlene pleaded, “Please. Let me go.”

“You'd just come after her,” he said, not knowing if he meant Ellie or the woman, or both, before he shot her. 

It was after passing the sign that he made it out of Salt Lake City that he felt like he could breathe again. 

“Peanut?” she asked and he turned his head as the woman held up a can of salted peanuts. 

“Sure,” he mumbled and she gave him a small smile, letting some peanuts fall in his outreached hand. 

“I’m Mel by the way,” she introduced herself. He didn’t even realise that he hadn't known her name until this very moment. 

“Joel. I’m Joel,” he said and she smiled at him. 

“Thank you for saving our life, Joel,” she whispered, her hand on her belly and he noticed another scar on the back of her hand that mirrored his own.  

He gulped, his eyes back on the road again. 

“You’re welcome.”

[honkytonk-hangman]

Afterburn – Masterlist

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OC/Reader

OC/Reader's name is Teddy/callsign 'Kodiak'

Summary: It had been clear from the moment you got inside a cockpit that you were going to be something special. Which is all the more reason why it was so tragic that you would never, ever, be able to fly again.

Warnings: language? hangman being hangman, some amount of angst, slowish burn?

Notes: This was going to be a oneshot but then it got to 8k and i hadn't even gotten into it properly yet so i've decided to make a series, but each part will probably sort of be able to stand on its own? not sure yet <3

🌪️ Crosswinds

🚀 V.max

⚖️ Equilibrium

✈️ Flight Risk (AU)

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto's First Kiss Timeline? Idk let's plot it out together

Gif Caption: Me and Shoto sitting together on the train, vibing. 💕

Hi All!!

If you're a fan of the Shoto's First Kiss series, Chapter 5 dropped at like 3:30 am EST this morning because I am an absolute HEATHEN and decided to have a late night/early morning editing session for 3 hours before posting. This was fun because I decided to add the whole Lisa Frank phone background scene for kicks and add a little more build up to the smut scene (I love a slowish burn...what can I say!?).

@brie-is-cheesy had some great questions in the comments of Chapter 5, I'm going to post it below and answer the best I can! I don't have a full answer to everything and I'm taking some ✨creative liberties ✨ here and there but lets see if I can clear some things up for my lovely readers!

Hiiiii, totally loved it; I was wondering when this is set? Like the timeline, I just got confused I'll leave the list of confusing things about the timeline,, I wrote about how much I love this in my reblog cuz this is awesome!! -since bnha is set in the mid to late 2100s I was wondering if the older songs they're listening to will include songs that are relatively new for us as of now? -when does this occur? Like you mentioned they're in their first year, and its after they've moved into the dorms but it's nearing the summer of next year, so is it after the war arc, or after the events of bnha entirely? Just wanted to ask! Thank you for the update!!<3 - brie-is-cheesy

Okay these are FAB questions and honestly I can't give you a straight answer to all of them!

Here's the background: So this story started out as a one shot - this past year, Shoto hasn't been one of my main MHA favorites. When I started the Red Riot Unbreakable Heart blog, my goal was to focus on what I've been calling "My Big Three." This includes Kirishima (lol thus my username), Hakws, and Hitoshi Shinsou (I love me an emo man). I was sprinkling in smutty one shots here and there involving other characters (ex. BakuDeku Smut: Hooking Up At A Pro Hero Gala and Beneath the Bookshelves | BakuDeku ). Shoto was one of those random one offs that I was like, huh why not!? But then I published Shoto's First Kiss (Part One) this one shot about Reader x Shoto totally took off in a way I wasn't expecting. Shoto resonates a lot with you all and the more I started writing for him, the more I grew to love him. He's so complex and in need of love and care. He has so much capacity for love!! I wanted to explore that more and figure out how he would act in his first encounters with intimacy and relationships. So I kept posting chapters, and started plotting out this wild story!

Timeline: When I started writing the one shot, I wanted the story to ambiguously take place in the 2nd or 3rd year when the characters were a little older. I was kind of working it in an AU where the war had vaguely happened and was over but everyone is okay and no one was injured/died/had their quirk impacted by AFO. In the context of Shoto's First Kiss chapter one - the war doesn't matter (at least if you re-read it I hope you don't find any plot holes mentioning the war!?). Also I have tried to say "Class A" instead of "Class 1A" because as I wrote more chapters, I still hadn't figured out what year we are in here.

Now that we're world building and have a more fleshed out story, here's what I'm thinking. Bare with me, we are going to need to suspend some disbelief here and I might need to go back and make some tweaks to previous chapters to keep everything in line with this line of thinking. But let's say this:

Timeline: The timeline takes place in the character's 1st year. I just combed through this timeline of MHA that someone put together on Reddit. I'm thinking this likely takes place at the end of Term 1. Final exams are coming up, and the students have heard a little about the training camp. Most of the MHA events so far are probably cannon in my fic universe, unless otherwise mentioned. The great thing for me is - most of MHA is in the context of Izuku's experiences, so there's a lot of wiggle room in the timeline for what could be happening between Shoto x The Reader. I haven't decided if the current chapters take place before or after Shoto/Izuku/Ida's encounter with Stain, because I can see some interesting plot points coming from that. I'll think about it!! This may change, but for purposes of continuity I think this could work as I move forward with my plotting!

Age: All the characters are at least 16. Let's just roll with that and take some creative liberties here. I'm aging everyone up.

The Dorms: In this fic universe, I pictured the students moving into the dorms at the start of the year. Like the dorms are just part of the normal UA experience - for all intents and purposes it's a boarding school.

The Songs: Okay this is a really interesting idea! I am literally just putting in playlists of music I like right now, I didn't think much about modern music flowing into the story. Lol would Honenuki listen to BRAT!? Maybe. I love him and think of him as a sweet chill cinnamon roll of a dude, though. I think he would be scandalized by Guess Featuring Billie Eilish. Or maybe he'd love it. He'd def love Chappell Roan, though. Dude is a sloot for Red Wine Super Nova and I just know it!

The Vibe: @ all of my beloved readers - I realize that this story means a lot to people, and I love that!! Even though we explore complex and serious subject matter at times, this is still a goofy silly story that I write for fun! Please don't hold me to these ideas that I'm throwing out in a semi-public brainstorm. I am but a simple fanfic writer who churns out most of the Shoto pages at midnight after I work two jobs. Shoto's First Kiss is a project that I write purely for fun and to build community with other adult MHA fans. I'm not like going to publish this as a book or put it on Patr*on behind a paywall or something. So let's keep it light! That being said, I love interacting with everyone so if there are fun questions that you think would be interesting for me to answer in this story, let me know! I'm very open to hearing thoughts and considering new ideas here :)

Okay okay SORRY FOR SO MUCH INFO! Thanks again @brie-is-cheesy for being so thoughtful in your reading and for asking these great questions! This is def going to help me guide the next few chapters of the story as I plot things out and as we get a satisfying next chapter in The Party arc. I'm going to post this reply on my Master List so we can all keep track of it and come back to it easily if needed.

As always, thanks for reading!! Sending good vibes to all ☺️

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

Shoto's First Kiss Series:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

My Master List

Red's Recos: If you're looking for more fun smutty stories from my writing desk, I'll share 3 of my all time favorites from my Master List. These are all fairly long and have a lot of sexual tension/build up with some satisfying smut scenes:

How to Suck Your Best Friend’s D*ck 🍆💋

BakuDeku Smut: Hooking Up At A Pro Hero Gala

A Long, *Hard* Night with Eijiro Kirishima

[omen-of-ice]

Just found this IF, excited to see how it turns out!

A couple of questions:

Barring the obvious one (Arranged Marriage), what tropes would you most associate with each romance route?

Additionally: How would Larak react to an MC just giving him a full-body hug, arms-around-neck, legs-around-waist just at random without warning? Because you can bet mine will be doing that at some point.

I’m so happy to hear that! I’m super excited for you all to experience what Omen of Ice has to offer!

I’ll list some of big ones but I’m certain there are more when it comes to the different routes.

Daeron: Arranged Marriage is the obvious one, but there’s a smattering of other ones too: slowish burn, royalty, second chance at love.

Larak: Oblivious love, hopeless romantic, and could you truly be the one? (Larak would be more than happy with the MC doing that whenever you get closer to him/are actually in a relationship with him. As any period beforehand he’d probably think you were trying to attack him and throw you in response.)

Calypso: First love, discovering something you never thought would be possible, and I didn’t know what I was looking for until I found you.

Shanaera: Slow burn, forced proximity, and soulmates.

Fáelán: Childhood Best Friend’s to Lovers, bodyguard romance (in a sense), and hopeful love.

Valerian: Everyone else can see it, I strongly detest the majority of people except you, and dark past.