#she doesn’t usually play along with those kinds of jokes anyway

[purrplegyuu]

Cold | Choi Beomgyu

Index

Chapter three

Warnings: unhappiness, slightly angst, soft beomgyu, abusive mother, swearing. omg the softest chapter eveeer

Word count: 1.4k

Taglist: @arianap23e, @haatohwa

I don't know why is it soooo soft, I don't like it ughhh. Like this is a dark story. Anyways, the following chapters are gonna be waaaay darker (i mean i hope). I kinda like soft Beommie tho...

Let me know if you find any kind of mistake, i'm not a native speaker and this helps me so so so much ^_^

Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, if you want to suggest an event to happen on next chapters or if you have any question about any detail. Luv yaa (●'◡'●)

I’m not happy. I know that. I know I will never go to school with a bright smile on my face like Jiwoo, because unlike her, I don’t have anything that makes me enjoy sitting on an uncomfortable chair for hours, looking at the professors as if I am paying attention, and talk kindly to my classmates as if I don’t hate them so much.

I even started to believe happiness is a vile lie American series have shown to us.

However, lately, these bad feelings have been increasing. And dad knows that.

That’s why he came home early on a saturday night and announced that we were going on vacation to that pretty house on a lake that his mother left him as an inheritance. 

“You okay guys?” He asks while driving, looking at me through the mirror. I smile slightly at him, nodding. “Gyu, I heard you got really good grades again. Bet your mother is really really proud” Beomgyu looks at him back, quiet, and totally ignores him. 

The awkward aura all over the car now, as dad looks at Beomgyu’s mother, scared of making his relationship even worse. He has tried thousands of ways to get along with Beomgyu, but the boy sitting by my side never really cared.

Once we arrive, dad gets out of his car, stretching his back. I look at Beomgyu. He really hates my father. At least that’s what it looks like—he gets even darker when our parents are close to him, doesn’t even smirk at any kind of jokes and doesn’t say a single word until they are far away again. 

But today, he looks even more dark than usual, which makes me feel a bit scared.

I get out of the car when he does. I see his mother running towards my dad in order to enter the house with him. 

We both stand in front of the house quietly, looking at the way our parents play like kids with their luggage as they take it in the house. They really look like a young couple. However, I find it a bit weird, but I guess it is just because I never liked her.

I look around. There are so many memories from my childhood—the garden full of flowers I planted when I was five, the rustic oven I used to make pizza in when I was eight, the lake where I learned how to swim when I was nine. But everything looks just too old and dirty—it’s been seven years since the last time we came here, it’s been seven years since the last time I enjoyed being in such a place… it’s been seven years since I last saw her.

I walk through the trees until I have reached a certain place. A small dock made of old wood, mouldy and poorly stable. Hundreds of drawings all over one of the wood tiles—’Jeongseo’ on top of everything, followed by ‘Namhyuk’ and ‘Dami’.

I really miss those times.

By 6 p. m., dad calls me to the big dock in front of our house. 

“Gaeum, honey, could you please go get the meat?” Beomgyu’s mom smiles at him, and makes a disgusted face when she turns around. Dad’s on the white boat his father used to drive right before dying three years ago. Everything I can think about when I see it, is him swearing he will never use it again because it was his dad’s, not his.

“We’re taking Luna on an expedition” he says. I can see the happiness on his face. Luna is the name grandpa gave his boat. “Remember when we used to go to the other side of the lake?” I nod. “Well, we are going to go there to take the dinner tonight” a big smile on his face makes me force myself to smile although I’m not happy or excited. 

“I will go get a sweater”

When I get in the house, I don’t see Gaeum in the kitchen, which I found a bit weird, but don’t really pay attention to it. I go to my room, take a pink sweater and try it on in front of the mirror. I’m wearing a long-sleeved dark shirt which is supposed to cover me up enough to make me feel warm, however, the short jean skirt makes it hard for me to get warm. Even with a big coat, and in the house, I’m trembling.

However, I get out of my room, holding a white blanket, and stop walking when I hear some noises in Beomgyu’s room. The door is closed, so I cannot see anything, but I don’t also see any light under the door, even though it’s 6:30 p. m., and it’s very dark already. 

“Don’t be fucking dumb” Gaeum’s voice sounding so different—meaner, unlike her usual fake sweet voice tone. “Could you please think a bit? Ha, you’re almost an adult, why would I have to ask you to not be so dumb?” The door of my room closes strongly due to the air running through my open window, which makes me jump, touching my chest. No more sounds in the room makes me feel scared someone can catch me, so I walk back to the door.

Gaeum gets out of Beomgyu’s room, and I look at her, trying to look as natural as possible, holding tightly my blanket, faking a blank face to her like I didn’t hear anything. 

“What?” I ask when she keeps looking at me. I even impress myself with my almost perfect acting. 

“Are you ready? I’m asking Beomgyu if he is also ready” I look in his room. He’s not visible from outside, so I just nod to her, going down once again.

Some minutes after that, Gaeum gets on the boat, giving dad the things he asked for and his coat. Beomgyu walks behind her, blank face as always, and doesn’t look at dad, just gets in the boat and sits by my side. 

Dad knows perfectly how to drive the boat, so he does it while we all try to warm ourselves with our coats.

The place we and Beomgyu are sitting is lower than the place our parents are at, so they can’t see us unless they go down.

That’s why he puts his hand on my thigh, caressing it as we’re alone over there. I look at him, looking at the lake deeply. His soft hair moving with the air, his face even prettier than ever, flawless skin, and some red marks on his cheeks like he has just cried. 

“You don’t seem that happy” he says, still looking at the lake. 

“I never look happy” I say, jokingly. Spending so much time with Jiwoo has started to affect me. But he doesn’t laugh. The silence makes me want to be sincere with him. Guess he has this effect on me. “I don’t really like here” He turns around to look at me, almost surprised at my words. It’s a pretty and almost paradisiacal place. Why wouldn’t I like it? “Everything I can think about when I’m here is her… the last time I saw mom” 

We stay silent for a few minutes, weirdly enjoying each other’s company. 

Then, he talks once again. “I know you listened” his husky voice should make me feel scared, however, his hands touching me so softly, his head against mine, his arm around me, his body warming me up… I can’t be scared even if he says he will kill me after that.  And I wonder if that kind of scenes are the reason I love him so much even when he treats me so wrong most of the time. Maybe I don’t love him, maybe I just love the way he treats me so wrong, but sometimes, he acts like he loves me back.

I don’t try to deny it. He knows me well. The voice tone he used isn’t even doubtful. He knows I listened.

“Don’t want to know why was she so mad?” Weirdly, everytime he doesn’t use pet names, it’s just because he’s treating me well. 

I look at him quietly. I find it a bit acted the way he fakes peace, like it doesn’t really bother him. His eyes a bit red, like his nose and cheeks. 

“She found out I’m fucking someone” He flashes a bit more than usual. “, and scolded me for not using condom” His eyes shiny, and can feel like he’s being forced or something like that. However, I don’t say anything.

I never say anything. 

[rhythmic-idealist]

Chase Trinaeste POV Shepherds of Haven fic? Yeah………….. Chase x MC fic? Yeah.......

And another friend’s OC is also mentioned in here? …..Yeah…………… dw about it..........

Listen though. L-listen:

---

You gotta learn to braid.

Thinking about it, your head is immediately gifted with images of him irritatedly brushing it out in the morning and chewing you out for bad technique. Better yet, he wears it to breakfast, thinks it’s good, and then chews you out only after Trouble makes some no-brained comment and he looks in a mirror for the first time. After all, you’ve got nimble fingers, makes sense to assume you were trustable.

Rock’s head is in your lap.

And his hair is going everywhere, and he’s always clearly taken his time with it (at your best guess he uses five different products at least), so that’s why you’re thinking about it. Don’t people with long hair sleep with braids, sometimes? Lavinet would probably teach you, and do you the favor of not announcing that you’re about to use your skills for evil.

He’s been like this since about five in the morning. You’re a light sleeper. As needs be, you rise either with the sunset or with the sun. Or elsewise, if you’ve got to— you have what some might call an uncanny sense for a well-timed catnap.

So you’re up again, working out the couple little kinks in your back from dozing upright like that. It’s another of the perks of the job: learn to sleep anywhere. You have a lot of little resume filler skills like that, just a tragic lack of resume to put it on. Idly, you wonder over the nonsensical notion of putting one together for the Order once your writing gets good enough to, and you’re kind of attached to the idea now. Blade wouldn’t read it, especially considering you’re already in, but there’s some small giddy joy you get out of the idea of putting it in his possession anyway. Maybe Trouble would read it. Maybe Shery would think it’s juicy enough that she can’t keep her hands off it, and then roll in the guilt about it for a few weeks after. ...No, you can’t do that to her. Funny as that is, she could read with permission. You might be cruel, but she’s a horrible choice of target.

Anyway— So you’ve been watching him be like this since about five in the morning, and thus have evidence of him being like this since about five in the morning. You remember falling asleep late last night, though. Waiting for him to drift first. It was probably one, two AM.

When six-thirty rolls around, you’ll have to wake him, you have a bright and early morning dose of espionage on the schedule today (it’s why the two of you are all the way out here, plus Lavinet and Ottilie graciously hosted in another wing) and you can’t have a grouchy Hero of Haven who hasn’t had a good hour or more awake to put his silver tongue back on.

Something something joke about that tongue’s many talents.

Head in lap is a surprise at all. It’s one of those things— Rock has done this thing to you where all your defenses are the ones that keep coming down first.

It feels a little like getting grifted. When you’ve caught onto a grift, though, and you’re playing along to see what or whom or where they take you to, you don’t feel like you’re in danger, because you’re good. You’re in as much danger as you want to be, or more like: when there are unpredictable variables, you know more or less where they’re going. Rock makes you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something you don’t fucking play with, and it doesn’t help that he likes to open his mouth sometimes just to remind you you’re rolling off a cliff.

Anyway. Then you get this, and you wanna be a charming shit about it, as usual (and you intend to), you just also wonder how much he’s falling off a cliff.

He gets bad nightmares. You know that because of the trip to the Reach. You do also know it because of the tightness in Blade’s lip when you mentioned it offhand later— there’s history there; they’ve been worse than that. You also know it because you picked the brains of a couple recruits who were standing around griping after Trouble sent them for something like twenty laps around the compound (not a real intuitive head for numbers on that man): apparently, it was Captain Nomura they’d been gossiping about, and Trouble was a hardass about it.

It’s the one thing that makes you feel borderline… even. If not even, then at least okay with it.

That’s a lie, you’d probably feel okay with it anyway, you got down to being okay with whatever he’s doing to you the minute you realized you were this invested. It’s just something you use to put things in perspective. There are things you didn’t exactly expect to peel open for him, about you. But there are also things he’s not asking to broadcast publicly to every hard-luck-fleer who wanders onto the Shepherds compound to recruit. Rumors about the head of the Thieves Guild abound, but the unflattering ones are usually less true, and the untrue ones abound so plentifully that no one knows heads or tails of that, anyway.

Feels fair he should have secrets from someone. You’re still gonna fucking dig your way into them before they bury him alive, it’s just. Yeah, you haven’t had your brain pulled open onto a projection screen.

So he has nightmares. You’re not actually sure how often. Technically, you don’t have proof they haven’t gotten better since you last heard. But since you’re not bound to the same evidence requirements as a court of law, and since it’s become a roulette game of how grouchy Rock’s gonna be minute-to-minute, he was dodgy about the prospect of rooming with you or anyone on this mission at all, and he’s recently had a god or demon or trick of the light try to tell him (plus all of the rest of you) that he’s less Mage and more something else’s torn out rib, you can look at two plus two plus two and say probably.

You’ve learned how not to dream. It’s basically the same as learning how to wake up when you want to. When you did dream, you dreamt of mutiny, imaginary holes you left and getting torn down through them. You were always yourself in your dreams—some people are characters, tropes, or other people they know, apparently; you wouldn’t know. Now you keep that in the waking world, and you keep ten paces ahead of it.

That’s the thing you’re deadly sure about in him. That he’s keeping ten paces ahead of something. You—your whole tether to his side—account for anything from like one to like eight of them, as far as you can tell. That’s all you know.

…Well that’s the quick way to tell it. He’s keeping ten paces ahead of something inside the Shepherds. Could be Blade, but you’re not sure why. Could be the Autarchy, but that’s too simple for you. Doesn’t feel like it. Could be Ottilie’s God-given plans for a pretty obvious heathen, but your nose also says it’s not that easy.

He looks dead asleep right now. Comfy, you’d kind of go so far as to hope. And anyway you look at his face, still waters, and you’re a little afraid to even brush his hair out of it.

You don’t even know if he meant to lay his head down on you at all, if that’s a cliff he made his shaky peace with (or if it’s a cliff at all, if means anything to him, Hael if you know) or if he was just miserable.

You don’t know if it’s you, like the stillness might be the effect of having another body in the room that he’s willing to lay his head against— …or if maybe he just doesn’t get them every night. Or if there is one under there. But you hope he’s not dreaming.

You try to bask in it, for now. Try to pose like a king with a sweet little kitten in his lap, like a guy painted on the front of a romance novel with the sweet, innocent angel he’s seduced to lay over him, nightgown slipping down her shoulder. You spend an hour with only walls to watch, dutifully still so he can finish sleeping, and it’s only a small handful of times that you have to stop and breathe through a creep of bile up your throat.

Six-thirty hits.

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

“Mmf. What.” Rock spits a strand of hair out of his face. Yeah, you probably could have done him a favor on that instead of leaving it there for him to wake up to. But it’s funny, so, you know. Win-win.

“The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, Ottilie’s slaughtering her morning chicken—” (she is not).

Rock seems to parse the reality of where he is, and peels himself up from you, sitting facing away from you— and then he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, and everything about it is horribly, disressingly raw.

He looks at you a little too long. The thing about Rock is his rules are a lot like yours, and you are not supposed to say anything about it, but he’s looking at you, like he’s asking you to, and it lasts a long time.

Then he goes to brush his teeth.

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Shades of Dread

Chapter 3 of The Shade, the Cloud, and the Sunrise. TP Zelink. Also on ao3 here. You can find chapter 1 on Tumblr here.

Half the things Link heard echoing from the court down the hall shouldn’t have surprised him. They did anyway.

Purlo was still ripping people off, and even more than usual. Link sank further in his seat the more the description of the STAR game became even nastier than the last one he’d slaughtered with his claw shots, and he realized quite suddenly that rather than teach Purlo a lesson, what Link had actually done was make him rig the game so thoroughly it was futile for anyone else to play.

Apparently, this was also a problem for Purlo, who complained he could no longer afford the rent for the square of land his rip-off-tent sat on.

His landlord complained next that he hadn’t received his rent in three months. (Link sank even further. Four months ago, he’d kicked the crap out of Purlo’s last level and left with an unreasonably-large quiver. It couldn’t have cost him that much, could it?!).

The Princess very rightly pointed out it sounded like the buck stopped at Purlo both ways, and Link started to relax. Of course it did. Purlo was a con-artist.

Then Purlo said he was spending all his money on food.

Then his landlord said the same thing.

So did Purlo’s “customers.”

Link went real still, listening to voices rise. Insults flew for a few moments before the Princess’ voice commanded an effortless silence.

“I am aware of that particular problem,” she said.

Link swallowed as more voices followed, all with same concern.

He really shouldn’t have been surprised.

The kitten bopped his shoulder and he blinked, turning to find the creature’s golden eyes on his almost droll. He huffed half a laugh and pet its bony little head again. It leaned heavily into his palm with a purr, then dragged its back all the way along it to the very tip of its tail. It padded its way down the table runner, then flopped on its side, stretched out with one paw hanging over the edge.

Brisk footsteps reminded Link of the horrendous posture he’d adopted. He sat quickly straight, then hopped to his feet just as a young woman in a housemaid’s cap entered with a heavy serving tray.

“Good morning to you, sir,” she said with a hurried curtsy. Then she saw the cat. “Ey! Off with you, now!” she said, her eyes stern.

The kitten yawned.

Link snorted.

“Oh, a friend of yours is he?” she asked, her voice full of a light sort of reservation as she walked the tray over to set it down directly in front of Link. “Watch it. The cats’ve been nicking food from my mum’s windowsill, hot meat pies, running right off with them!”

Link glanced at the cat. “Sounds like she shouldn’t put them there.”

“Where is she supposed to cool them, then?”

Link shrugged. “The table?”

“And what if the table’s full of washing?”

“Wouldn’t the washing be in the wash basin?”

“Once it’s dry, it’s not!”

“She could put the clothes away first.”

“Me dad does that.”

Link couldn’t help it. “It… kind of sounds like he doesn’t,” he said, his mouth twitching.

She stared at him. “Are yeh criticizing me dad or flirting with me?”

Link’s eyes flew wide and hands flew out. “No, no, neither of those!”

“Well it has to be one of them,” she said, her fists on her hips.

“No it doesn’t!”

“Well either you’re joking, which means you’re flirting, or you’re not joking, which means you’re criticizing.”

“Joking doesn’t have to be flirting.”

“Does when the blokes in the café do it.”

“We’re not in a café!”

She waved at the tray. “May as well be.”

“I’m not criticizing your dad.”

“Then you’re flirting.”

Link floundered. His face felt cold as reekfish.

“Look. You’re not really my type.”

“That’s- I-“

“Don’t you have things to be getting on with in the kitchen, Fara?” Ralz asked, peering half over his glasses. He’d appeared in the door so quietly Link hadn’t noticed.

“Oh!” The woman went a bit red. “Yes, of course.” She turned to hurry off, then stopped to give her quick curtsy again. She exited with a look on her face that managed to be bored and exasperated at the same time.

“Apologies,” Ralz said. “Most of the staff aren’t used to this kind of service.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, they came in from the town of course, and from neighboring regions, but most of the people who ran this place before- before…” he took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well. Before the King’s untimely death… they didn’t return.”

“…Did you work here before?”

Ralz nodded. “Not in quite this capacity, but we’re all reeds in the wind right now, aren’t we?”

“What did you do before?”

“I was a librarian.”

“Oh.” Link blinked. “What are you now?”

A small sigh slipped out of the older man. “I am the Princess’ advisor. I suppose it’s just as well. I’ve curated enough about politics, economics, and geography to know something of them, at any rate.” He nodded again at Link’s tray. “I’ll let you eat.”

Link tried to absorb that as Ralz slipped back toward the throne room. It sounded as though rupees—and food—were still the topic in question, a fact Link tried not to think too hard about as he lifted the lid on a large plate. It contained fluffy-looking biscuits. He found clotted cream in a small bowl and honey in a tiny cup with an even tinier spoon. Everything was clean, but just as when he’d last been here, it wasn’t all that fancy. More in the castle had been damaged than the architecture, and considering what he’d just heard, he wasn’t surprised to see acquiring pretty dishware hadn’t been high on the priority list. The black tea in the pot smelled bracing. It wasn’t some expensive, flowery brew, though it wasn’t weak, either.

The cat’s head popped up as Link broke a biscuit and spread a hearty portion of cream. Link watched it as he brought the biscuit to his mouth. It followed the food’s progress the whole way, and when Link took the first, deliciously-flaky bite, it hopped up and trotted over with a “brrrr?”

Link took the saucer from under the teacup and put a dab of cream on it. “Here you go.”

The cat sat, then leaned down with a series of wary sniffs, each bringing its nose a hair closer to the little white dollop. Its sixth sniff was one sniff too close; it flinched back as though shocked, a miniscule spot of cream now in the exact center of its little pink nose. Its paw shot out to swipe at the offending substance between its nostrils, and as it licked its paw clean, it paused for an instant. A moment later, it devoured the cream on the saucer.

“Glad you like it,” Link said, adding a heartier dollop.

The biscuits reminded him of the ones Pergie’d been baking for as long as Link could remember: light, savory, buttery, and so flaky they melted in your mouth. The cream was excellent, too. Butter was more the norm in Ordon, but this was a nice change, and just as simple. Link washed two biscuits down with four (small) cups of tea before uncertainty stopped him. He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait, and he didn’t want to have to disappear to empty a full pot of tea back out. He added a little more cream to the cat’s plate (it attacked it with a purr, ceaseless even while swallowing), replaced the lids, and walked to the window. The panes’ wooden frames looked new.

The view was just about right for Link to see the edge of the castle graveyard. He shivered.

The dead soldiers stood, rotted faces full of a strange dread as they stared, pointing shaking fingers at the grave beneath the sacred tree. Link’s wolfen nose twitched as the scents of sulfur and petrichor stifled something subtle—something that seemed familiar, though he could’ve sworn he’d also never smelled it before. His chest squeezed, the tiniest whine escaping his nostrils.

Midna made her sing-song “Aw,” with a downright affectionate pat to his shoulder—not at all like the ones she used to give him. “Why be sad? He doesn’t have to dig around for a key in all this muck. Besides…” she squinted- “he’s cursed, remember? Wonder what he did that was so bad?” She giggled.

Something made Link shrink, his ears flattening back and his shoulders approaching them.

The pat turned into two swift pets. “What is it?” Midna leaned around his neck to peer in one of his eyes, her smile gone.

Link panted, and before he could stop himself, he’d done the water-shake again. Midna gripped his fur hard as both she and rainwater flew off his back. She plopped back down on it with her usual “uh!” and scowled at him. “Again! Do you have to?”

Link produced a puff of hot nose-air and craned his neck to eye her.

“Lucky for you I held on. Who would help you if I cracked my skull on that wall?” She pointed toward a battlement.

‘You can fly,’ he tried to say, but he couldn’t. As usual, a series of puffs and a few throat noises emerged instead.

“And what’s that supposed to mean, hm?” She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and shook her head.

He made their ‘change me back’ reverse-nod signal.

She shrugged with one hand in the air. Then she used it to magic the Shadow Crystal from Link’s forehead.

He strangled the cry of pain as its existence scraped against his, and the next as his bones creaked, ground, and jerked into the shape of a Hylian skeleton. Relieved air burst from his humanoid lungs a moment later.

Midna hummed and stowed the crystal in whatever invisible space she seemed to carry along with her as Link rummaged for one of Barnes’ bombs, fighting bile in his throat. He took longer in placing and setting it than he should have.

Midna’s eye never left his face as he backed off, the explosive hissing behind him. “Why didn’t you just dig?” she asked.

Link swallowed. “I-“

The bomb exploded. A small amount of soil struck Link’s back—he shuddered.

“I didn’t like the smell,” he said.

She’d always known when he was lying.

He wondered if anyone had filled that soil back in.

Pretty suspicious when a gravemarker isn’t at its grave. He wondered (not for the first time) whether it had always been that way, or if Ganondorf’s minions had messed with it. They’d clearly locked the place up…

He supposed if he was staying here he’d have plenty of time to ask.

A lump rose in his throat.

He wondered how much Ilia had been crying.

A sudden wave of sorrow crushed his diaphragm, rolling upward to empty his lungs and fill his heart with a grief that spread to the very ends of his fingertips, shards of nerve-pain as real as the claws of any shadow-beast. Contradictory compulsions tore at his nervous system amid a wild fear that he was ripping in two, unable to be just one, like his change to wolf-form had stopped halfway through to leave him monstrous and irreparable.

He clutched at the dissonance his chest, gasping for breath.

Extremely soft fur met his pinky-finger, and he pried his eyes open to see the cat straining to reach him, its back paws on the table and one front foot on the arm of a wooden chair. Link blinked, and though the sensations still held him in a vice-grip, he managed to offer the creature his palm. The cat pressed its head hard against it with a purr, and a few flutters of airy laughter left Link. “Why… did you follow me?” he managed. “Huh?”

If its thrumming held any answers aside from it generally liking him, Link couldn’t understand them—at least not in this form. “Can’t change anymore.” Link huffed. “Well… that’s not true. I could change. Just… not change back.”

Link’s breathing began to ease after many passes of the cat’s full body beneath his outstretched hand.

He- he would write to Ilia. Right?

Yes, of course he would. But he wouldn’t leave. He’d just gotten here.

And he’d write to Rusl, too.

Of course.

He wouldn’t leave.

--

Ralz called an end to the morning’s court session well after noon. Zelda rose from her throne with an intentional dread borne of mistrust for her own faculties. It must have entered her gaze, somehow—everywhere she swept her eyes, the people before her hurried to exit, or to look elsewhere if they could not.

Zelda took the dais step by slow step with an inner mantra: He is not here. He is not here. He is not here. Her dreams had cast their shadow fully upon her reality. She had reached some threshold beyond which lay madness, and once crossed, she suspected she would be unable to return. Hyrule’s best option, in that case, would in fact be for her to marry and produce an heir as quickly as possible.

She would ask, though she had forced herself to expect the antechamber to be empty. She could have imagined the entire morning's unusual occurrences. Link, suddenly returned? A cat on his back? Strange behavior from their northeastern neighbors? The three oddities intertwined.

Ralz drew back at whatever message her thoughts had written upon her face. “M- Princess?” he asked. His voice had wavered.

She watched the eyes behind his glasses carefully. “Is there a visitor in the antechamber?” she asked, her voice flat. She expected the confusion which appeared on his face.

“Yes, Princess,” he said.

Her head rose a fraction.

“Link is waiting for you, as you requested.” He waited, his hands clasped loosely in front of him, a deep wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows.

She stared at him.

“Princess?” he took a small step forward, speaking quietly. “Are you well?”

Her head tilted ever so slightly. “I am always well.”

His wrinkle deepened, but he joined her as she nodded toward the hallway.

She strode to the doorway with all the poise that befitted her station and saw him within moments—standing at the opposite end of the weighty table, idly scratching the ears of the creature which had ridden him here. He appeared even handsomer than she remembered him: his wild hair streaked with tones of wheat and earth, his eyes earnest and unguarded, and his curved features gentle. His chest seemed to have broadened in the months since she’d seen him, and that, more than anything else, told her this was unlikely to be her imagination. She’d never seen him as such in her dreams.

Zelda’s face remained immobile. Her thoughts whirred. If this was real, so was Vale and Holodrum's mad offer. Perhaps her dread had arisen equally from that ill-boding message.

His eyes met hers with a small smile. Then he seemed to remember himself and bow his head. “Princess,” he said.

She nodded, her voice emerging without her conscious interference, as though he were any other visitor. “Link. Thank you for your patience.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Princess,” he said, with a sideways pull to his mouth, which he opened and closed again.

It occurred as it had in the throne room—her mouth threatened to quirk. He did appear to be unused to formalities. “Will you join me for a brief lunch while we speak?”

His eyes widened a little, and he glanced at the tray already on the table.

She suspected she knew the source of his hesitance. “Hospitality may include both breakfast and lunch,” she said. “It is also quite likely to include dinner, in this case.”

Link swallowed. “I would be honored, Princess.”

Zelda glanced at Ralz, who promptly nodded and rang a bell on a cord running high along the wall twice.

“Have you any need of me, Princess?”

“Not for the next hour,” she said. “Thank you, Ralz.”

He bowed himself out.

Zelda’s gloved hand rose to lean on the doorway’s stone beside her. She’d made no conscious effort to do so. She supposed her body had need of a steadying support. She assured she stood straight and tall, as always. She could not feel the limestone’s texture through her glove, and the glove felt like nothing. “You appear to have returned at an opportune moment,” she said.

His eyes flicked to her hand. “Is it- the men from Holodrum?” he asked, quiet, and with a small frown.

“It is indeed,” she ought to have said darkly—but it emerged as even-toned as most words had since the end of the Twilight. “I expected offers from our neighbors, and I expected them to hurriedly follow the recent happenings in our realm. Yet this morning’s offer was all but an open threat—and that, I did not expect. Dealings between King Hessal and my father were always cordial.”

Links throat worked.

“I am unsure what would have come to pass had you—and your companion—” her eyes flicked to the cat now cleaning itself on the seat nearest the window—“not been present, but those men were far too ready to draw their blades.”

“They were-“ Link started and stopped, his head jerking back- “I- apologies, Princess. I didn’t meant to interrupt.”

She waved the hand at her side a few languid inches. “No need. I welcome your perspective.”

He nodded, his mouth working as though picking through words. “They seemed like they were sizing up the guards. And right before—well… before the cat and the noise and all that, the way they were moving—some of them, to me, seemed like they were thinking about drawing. It’s the hands.” He raised his left one, arranging his fingers subtly, his head tilting back and forth. “Hard to explain, but I saw it.”

“You were not alone in noticing,” she said.

He blinked at her. “Oh.” He leaned further back. “Oh.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You just- seemed so calm.”

“I am always calm.”

He made no move to contradict her. He squinted a little. “I’m- pretty sure the guards didn’t pick up on it.”

“They didn’t.”

His lips parted. “I was hoping- they’d- uh…” his hand came up to run through the back of his hair, and the grimace she suspected he’d been holding back had been forgotten—it arrived on his face full-force.

“Indeed,” she said. “Ashei is doing what she can to train them, and Auru is most kindly recruiting likely candidates for service at the castle. Yet we are in a precarious situation should someone choose to attack us directly, and considering the extraordinary supply problem in recent months, it is quite plain that casualties elsewhere were also high.” Her hand on the stone curled into a loose fist. “Considering a total of three people survived the assault on Kakariko, it may be unwise to draw even a handful of people inward to central Hyrule.”

“They didn’t hit everywhere,” Link said, his voice a quiet rasp. “Ordon- Ordon’s fine. No one died.”

Zelda nodded. “Do you have news of the deeper south? Perhaps southeast Faron, as well, or the southern shores?”

He stammered a moment. “No. I’m sor- apologies, Princess. It didn’t occur to me to-“ he squinted one eye- “I really should’ve checked.”

She raised an easing hand. “You’d done quite enough. We all owe our lives to you. I’d merely supposed your Ordon’s Rusl would enlist your assistance.”

He just looked at her.

“No? I’d requested he look into the matter.”

“He…” Link shook his head, a small line appearing beneath each of his eyes. “He didn’t tell me.”

Her hand slid from the stone. She moved to the left side of the table, fingertips testing the lacquered seatback instead. “Then I shall hope to hear from him soon.”

Her fingers lifted and lowered again, one by one, on the wood grain, as a distant hesitance overtook her. This was the moment she ought to produce a polite smile. She ought to ask him why he’d chosen to leave the peaceful home his heart had seemed to desire: what his concerns were; if he intended to remain indefinitely; if he would agree to the post she now believed he should take.

A smile in his presence felt as though an approaching precipice, the plummet’s bottom obscured.

She saw it in the movement of his eyes about the room, as she had in Sherize and so many others. They could not see within her; they saw only the edge of herself, carefully sculpted. She could not allow her form to lapse as it was now.

She shaped her smile slowly, her stomach plummeting as though she’d fallen already. She would not acknowledge it. “Tell me,” she said. “Why have you returned? Last we spoke, you made your intentions clear.”

His mouth pulled inward again and he moved to stand opposite her, his hand mirroring hers on the nearest seatback. His fingertips emerged from his swordsman’s gloves, worn, yet not so much as Auru’s or Rusl’s. They traced a narrow length of the chair’s curve, back and forth. “It might sound- strange, or—” his head shifted slightly sideways, then back—“dis… quieting.”

The sound of bustling in the hallway silenced him. Zelda kept her polite smile and turned it on the two women who entered, again with swift curtsies, and deposited one tray at each of their seats. They left as quickly as they’d come, acknowledging Zelda’s thank-you with two more curtsies.

“Well,” Zelda said. “Please, sit and eat.”

She’d seen him eat before. The swift disappearance of the grapes, aged cheese, and hearty wheat bread from his plate therefore did not surprise her. He only sipped the tea—the only part she partook of much. She’d developed a strong thirst with the lengthy talk at court.

She took dainty bites of the bread, chewing them carefully. Dust. A morsel of cheese sat heavy on her tongue.

“I’ve been having these visions,” Link said, his eyes on his plate. He pushed the tray an inch further from him.

She waited.

“They’re of you, Princess.” He winced a little, glancing up as though expecting admonishment.

An image from her dreams flashed before her, of his silhouette disappearing against the sunset. “Indeed?”

His head bobbed—an incomplete nod, his hands flattening on the table.

“And what occurs in these visions?” she asked. She heard an undefined strangeness enter her voice.

“Not- much. You glow,” he said, the wince deepening for a moment.

Her brows rose. “That has not occurred in reality.”

“That’s—good, maybe,” he said, appearing to consider his fingernails. “I felt pulled here. I still do. I know it sounds strange. I…” his eyes found hers again, and the impression of unguardedness struck her once more. “I wondered, after what happened this morning, if it was because you- because I’m needed here. That something’s happening.” He shook his head, one hand rising to rub at his forehead.

“Things are certainly happening,” she said, quiet and calm. “I’ve no explanation for the form of your- visions… yet your arrival today is worthy of note, and considering your connection to sources of extraordinary magic, to ignore them would be unwise.”

Something in his face struck her apologetic—regretful. “I couldn’t ignore them, Princess. They got- they grew too strong.”

Receding into twilight.

Perhaps no longer.

Were these dreams of hers more than dreams? Were they borne of more than the way he’d struck her the instant she first saw him whole and Hylian?

That would assuage some of her uneasiness. Perhaps her state of mind was not so poor as she’d concluded—though this was only one of many deviations from her self before the Twilight.

Before Ganondorf.

She would have shivered if she could.

Link leaned sideways, studying her face. “Princess?”

Her gaze had listed downward, to the back of her hand, where the mark of the Triforce had faded. She returned to her accustomed poise at once. “It is customary for guests of import to dine with the royal family,” she said. “I expect Prince Vale, at the very least, to attend, likely with one or two other men. To say I mistrust their intentions would put it far too mildly. Link—would you accept my invitation to join us at dinner?”

He blinked. “Of course, Princess. I offered my service. I’ll do anything you need of me.”

“Not yet,” she said. “Tonight, you are yet my guest. You may enter my service tomorrow as captain of my personal guard.”

His eyes widened.

“It is a new position.”

“Who- who else is on your guard?”

“My rapier.”

A laugh puffed from his mouth—then his eyes grew positively owlish. “I’m- oh Goddesses- I didn’t mean to laugh at-“

“Please- don’t concern yourself. It is a simple truth, yet an absurd one. Let this be the first step in rectifying it.”

“There- really are too few soldiers, then,” Link said.

“Far too few, and far too little valor between them. I can only hope they shall improve, yet the happenings of the Twilight—it cowed many of them.”

Link nodded. “Yeah. I remember—the dungeons.”

Zelda’s head cocked ever so slightly.

“They were down there. Spirits in the twilight, and really scared. Not all of them, but—I mean—I guess they ran.”

“I… cannot say I blame them,” Zelda said. “Those who hid survived. Those who fought died.” She watched him a moment, some strange flickering of sensation in her chest as her eyes shifted between his. “I, too, surrendered.”

“You were right to,” Link said.

She made no answer.

The whispery padding of the cat’s feet broke the lengthy silence. It approached Link’s tray, sniffing. He offered a crumb of cheese, which it accepted happily.

Before the Twilight, she’d have found some amusement in it.

She recalled the kitten-abundance problem in town. It seemed the least of their imminent challenges.

She rose from her seat.

Link rose immediately with her, bumping his thighs on the table in his haste.

“I must attend to this business of the letter and the more usual correspondence. I must also speak with Ashei.” She shifted her tray toward Link. “Please feel free to have more—and to share it with your companion. I’ll have Ralz direct you further.”

“Thank you, Princess,” he said.

She couldn’t quite place the look on his face. Concern, perhaps, but over what she did not know. She nodded at him. “I shall see you at dinner."

He bowed her out.

As she made for her new receiving room, the dread she ought to have felt at opening the waiting letter remained in her thoughts only, unanchored from her body. She walked with practiced neutrality, the image of an immutable sovereign. It was for her people.

The envelope sat atop a stack of other letters and reports.

She'd grown weary of sitting in the morning's long session. She remained standing, and broke the Crown Prince of Holodrum's seal.

~

To Her Royal Highness, Princess Zelda of Hyrule,

If this letter has found you, no doubt you have already heard words of offering from my royal brother, Vale. Yet here I state, in my own hand, that I, Prince Thelgran, Heir to the Throne of Holodrum, intend to take your hand in marriage.

Hyrule is evidently in dire need of humanitarian aid and of reinforcement at its borders. The beginnings of a solution present themselves with clarity. The dissolution of the long border between our two lands eliminates the need for extensive garrisons in the Whitewood Mountains, the White Expanse, the edge of your Gerudo highlands, and the verges of the Great Chasm. Hyrule need no longer trouble itself with security in these regions. Fear not, for Holodrum’s might is already working to secure these areas for the protection of Hyrule’s remaining populace.

Alarming reports have reached us of Hyrule Castle itself besieged and taken for a time. I congratulate you on its return to your stewardship. I encourage you to retain my brother Vale and his men for your own personal protection.

I await your acceptance of my hand, without which I will rightfully reserve my guarantee of safety for Holodrum’s people only. I extend that guarantee to Hyruleans as a courtesy for your promise of loyalty. The lives of my men are precious, and not to be squandered without benefit.

Make the appropriate preparations for my coming.

With Affection,

Thelgran Rabastre Crown Prince of Holodrum Guardian of the Oracle of Seasons Bearer of the Slayer’s Ring and the Holy Ring of Seasons

~

A strange cold had bled from some pit deep beneath Zelda’s navel down her thighs, her knees, her calves, seeping into the very tips of her toes, a rapid paling of muscle strength following it.

She dare not move. She would fall.

She dare not stay still. She would fall.

One set of gloved fingertips spread smooth on the desktop beside her, her hand tented. It bore more weight than it should have.

Ganondorf’s leer sparked to light with a burst of his laughter, tangible, hot in her face, and her fingertips caved to the weight now upon her palm.

She hadn’t fallen.

She would not.

Her visage remained immutable.

What heat had drained from her lower body seemed now to rest in her eyes—which found her other hand. It had fisted the edge of the thick paper. She loosened her grip, slow and calm, a pale sweat emerging from her as she did.

She would not sit.

She would not lower herself. Not even here in relative privacy, hundreds of miles away from this man, would she concede a single inch. Not again.

Make the appropriate preparations for my coming.

Were it only herself at risk, she would do exactly that. She would wait for him upon her throne and skewer him when he arrived. She would not drop her sword. Not ever again.

Yet he threatened her people, and that demanded an immediate response.

An offer, indeed.

She breathed, outwardly calm. Had anyone passed, all they’d have noticed was a sheen of sweat, and a few too many breaths to have been resting.

--

Follow this link for my masterlist.

[erodasfishtacos]

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

**

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame. 

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

**

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face  relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels. 

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

**

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers. 

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

**

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless. 

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom.  Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

 Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,”  Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and  Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear. 

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

 Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her. 

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

*

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again. 

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife. 

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat. 

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction. 

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?” 

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Assists the Jedi Council While On Medical Leave

AU brainstormed primarily by @atagotiak, @gelpenss, and myself.

Basically, a fix-it based in Anakin getting a peek into the daily life on the Council early, and accidentally Figuring Some Shit Out along the way, mostly because Palps Fucks Up.

So, Anakin gets injured in a way that limits him to Coruscant for a few weeks. He can still walk and talk, but he can't fight. The specific injury doesn't matter, just this:

Anakin runs errands on behalf of the council and sits in on meetings to take minutes as a "you're on medical leave but we need all hands on deck, congrats you get to be the secretary until we can send you on stabbing missions again" thing.

Also, there just aren't a whole lot of people with Anakin's clearance level. They had to send out Stass Allie to handle the mission that was originally next on Anakin's roster, and Anakin's the most convenient person to substitute into her position.

He's not super happy about this but he can more or less understand the point of it. Given that he gets antsy about needing to fight almost immediately, he can acknowledge the worth of having something useful to do, if only as the person who's writing down who says what and making sure everyone has the right file on hand.

(Besides, Obi-Wan jokes in a way that Anakin thinks might be encouraging, this is good practice if Anakin ever wants to be on the High Council himself!)

(This is a very helpful conversation.)

BASICALLY, Anakin is resigned to this but agrees because "Usually we have Master Allie handle this but we need her running that mission that was originally set for the 501st, so you get to fill in for her until you can switch back. Think of it as training for eventual mastery or admin or--listen, we're just really stretched thin."

Here's the key thing, though: Anakin isn't supposed to leave the Temple, for medical reasons, so Palpatine doesn't know Anakin is sitting in on Council meetings. They haven't met up since Anakin's last surgery, and because [muffled hand-wave reason] he didn't find out another way, like Anakin comming him or the Council giving him the heads-up about the change in attendance.

It's fine. He's just taking notes and doing preparatory research, he has the clearance, the Chancellor likes him anyway. Hell, they'd have had someone's Padawan doing this, before the war increased the necessary clearance levels. They'll toss in a quick message in the brief they send to Palps that he never reads anyway, and that's really all they need to do. Skywalker's getting some rounded experience and this way the medics won't be freaking out about him stressing his heart after getting electrocuted by trying to spar too early.

Palpatine doesn't talk directly to the Council, he just sends a recording the first time Anakin is there. It's a bit weird, but nothing goes wrong. Anakin's off-screen from whatever device they use to send a response, since he's not technically a member, just assisting for a bit on the part of Master Allie's duties that he's actually allowed to touch (and not the bits that are getting added to Mace, Plo, and Shaak's stuff).

The first four or so meetings are like that. Anakin starts having a bit of sympathy for the Council as he sees how many things they want to do that are hampered by the need for Senatorial approval, things that he would also want to do and didn't think required this much red tape.

About a week in, still mostly recordings with Anakin just sitting on the side playing paralegal, the wheel of fortune turns a few pegs.

Palpatine hands over a an order on the range of injury that a soldier should be treated for, "to ensure that republic resources aren't being wasted on clones that, while expensive, would actually be cheaper to replace than repair."

Oh, he dresses it up in prettier language than that. Anakin doesn't process it as such first.

The Chancellor manages to couch his phrasing in "prioritizing resources for taxpaying republic citizens and employees of the GAR," which... well.

The natborn commissioned officers pay taxes. The Jedi are employees. The clones are neither, because they're slaves.

Probably he frames it as the employees thing, very much the kinda language that sounds halfway ok unless you’re fluent in political bullshit.

And Anakin is really confused at first about why the council is upset by the order because, okay, he would PREFER to be able to use medical supplies on refugees when possible, but he understands prioritizing the soldiers?

He just looks up, totally lost, when someone groans and goes, "That's the third time this year, is he trying to get us all killed?"

And it vibes as such a genuine, aggrieved, sad reaction that Anakin is completely blindsided because it's not the sarcastic, petty resentment he kind of expected? It's just... desperate depression.

And someone gently has to explain that this is the third time they've had resources restricted to only GAR employees and that it's a polite way of saying "prioritize natborn officers, stop wasting resources on clones, we can replace them easier."

Or maybe he doesn't ask, because he's just there to take notes, not argue, and he can see the masters drawing up a response that amounts to "We would like to remind you that our soldiers do not fall into that classification, and to limit their access to our medical supplies is liable to cause a loss of life that we find unreasonably high. Please see the annotations attached to adjust wording so that the clones may receive the same level of care."

Anakin's internally just like "Yeah, that's phrased nice and addresses the main problem, Palpatine will obviously agree and change it!"

And then he comes in the next day and the response comes in and it's just dripping condescension about considering the clones actual people.

"This is why we can't use the bacta tanks on clones anymore, just the patches. We could use them at first, we had a few of the CCs get through fatal injuries with them, but they cut that off and said we could only use the tanks on Jedi and non-clone officers a few months ago. The Banking Clans keep tightening their belts on the army, and the Chancellor insists we put citizens first, and the clones aren't citizens. We've been arguing back as much as we can, but he keeps going on about the economy and we can't... we just can't, Skywalker. We're trying to save as many of our men as we can, but..."

Something like "Allocation of resources reiterated, the Kaminoans have assured the senate that the Jedi are far from exhausting the resources ordered."

And Anakin's like. He can't blame the council for lying about Palpatine's past or future actions. He just saw Palpatine's actions. Those actions were to order people under his control to throw away lives he saw as replaceable commodities.

These are his friends' lives.

His soldiers are being thrown away by a man in a tower that he trusted.

And then that man has the gall to suggest it's the council's fault.

Palpatine is good at what he does, especially in public, he dresses it up in flowery language and everything, but Anakin's just like "Those are my FRIENDS and also this is??? How slavers talked about their property on Tatooine???? FRIENDPATINE, WHAT THE FUCK."

Anakin can be passive aggressive sometimes as well as outright aggressive. So if he brings up the guidelines and why they make him upset in general terms, and Palpatine says something about how he’s sad the council doesn’t care about the clones...

Anakin, internally, having just watched the council scramble to save as many clones as possible within the guidelines that Palps handed down: Uh-huh.

(Anakin is just the gay horror teeth gif from queer eye.)

Just. “Yeah, funny you say that, Palpatine! Because as I remember, you told the council not to waste more resources than necessary while Mace Windu was arguing to expand the treatment range!”

Palps doesn't even have time to salvage the situation or attack Anakin because Anakin just bulldoze rants for fifteen minutes and then storms out.

Anakin... maybe does a little treason and gets a copy of the orders so he can ask Padme "Hey, can you explain the politics of this?" and doesn't tell her who wrote it so she isn't biased (he tells her that this is why he's not sharing the author's/speaker's name), and just lets Padme pick apart all the 'this is a nice way of saying they don't view the clones as people' details.

Alternately, someone on the Council sees Anakin dithering and manages to get him to admit that he's not great at political language and wants to ask someone to help him understand the full implications. The person--Mace? let's go with Mace--is aware that Anakin is on good terms with Senator Amidala, if not necessarily aware of the depth of said relationship. Mace points out that he's probably going to be seeing her soon just because he usually does and, as a Senator, she can get easy access to these sessions since they're not about specific missions, just allocation of resources, etc. It's not an optimal solution, but she's got a bit more free time than anyone else Anakin knows with the clearance levels, like Order members that are actively involved in the war effort.

Anakin dithers and panics and Mace, trying to be helpful, tells him that plenty of Jedi have made friends among the Senate over the years, didn't you know Qui-Gon Jinn was a personal friend of Former Chancellor Valorum?

At any rate, Anakin goes to Padme and asks her to explain it to him, because she knows how to phrase things so he gets it.

Anakin has to have her pause and he goes outside and destroys some things halfway through.

(Anakin maybe thinks back to the times Padmé or Obi-Wan were really obviously frustrated and when he asked, they said stuff like “I can’t stand Palpatine rn, sorry Anakin I know he’s important to you and you don’t want to talk about politics, let’s just talk about something else.”)

(Obi-Wan: I don’t trust Palpatine Anakin: you just don’t like politicians in general Obi-Wan: yes that is also true)

(Obi-Wan does like Bail and Padme but he does also talk a bit about how politicians generally aren’t to be trusted.)

[malleux]

spell [2]. | corpse husband

part one ; part three

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

-> Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

-> Warnings: Hate Comments, Self Doubt, Anxiety, Cursing

-> A/N: thank you for 1k notes on part one! i’m so glad everyone likes my work. it’s really nice getting this much love after taking a hiatus on my fire emblem writing blog. i hope y’all enjoy it and stay on the lookout for part three!

corpse husband taglist is closed!

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since you joined Sean’s Among Us stream.

While that was your first public appearance, you had joined three others after that and already you were blowing up on almost every social media platform you had. The attention was kind of nice, you had to admit, but sometimes the anxiety of becoming a public figure weighed heavily on your shoulders.

During that time, you turned to your friends who were used to such scrutiny: Sean, Felix, and now Corpse, who you’ve been talking to every day for those two weeks.

It was another one of those nights where, at 1am, you were on Facetime with said man. His screen was dark, as usual. He hadn’t shown his face yet and you respected that. You didn’t need to see him to talk to him, or be his friend, or develop a slight crush on him. All of which you did.

The call was relatively silent on your end. Corpse was on Facetime with you, yes, but he was also on a call in Discord, once again playing Among Us.

You often wondered if playing that game was all your new friends did anymore.

You stayed quiet, letting Corpse play the game and avoiding his fans finding out about your call. You had college work to finish anyways, so the silence was rather helpful.

“We should ask Y/N if she wants to play. I wanna meet her.” Sykkuno’s voice rang out from the Discord call. He was right- you’d never met him. He and Corpse seemed extremely close, though, so you’d love to talk to him. A friend of your crush friend was a friend of yours.

“She’s busy tonight.” Corpse responded.

“Yeah, she’s got an exam coming up- wait, how do you know?” Sean joined in, questioning Corpse.

“Uh, I mean we’re on Facetime right now, I guess.” Your heart sped up- now his fans knew. “She’s studying. We’re just hanging out.”

“Didn’t you guys ‘hang out’ last night as well? It seems like you’re trying to take my best friend away from me.” Sean joked back.

“I mean, I definitely am.”

Your breath caught in your throat. What was that supposed to mean? Sean was obviously kidding, but the tone in Corpse’s voice wasn’t the one he used when he was joking as well.

Felix suddenly butted in. “Ooooh, I think Corpse-y has a little crush.”

“And if I do?”

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

꧁꧂

Three weeks, now, that you’ve been talking to Corpse daily.

One week since Corpse’s crush comment and one week that you’ve endured countless mentions and tags on Instagram and Twitter, constantly talking about #CorpseY/N.

You didn’t really mind the shipping, often losing yourself in daydreams about driving those two hours down from your apartment in Los Angeles down to San Diego and running into his arms. It didn’t help when he mentioned wanting you to come visit one day.

You just worried about how Corpse felt about them. He was still relatively new to blowing up on the internet as well, his fame suddenly skyrocketing in the past few months, so you weren’t sure if he was comfortable with them. You didn’t want to bring it up, either, fearing that the discussion would make things awkward between the two of you.

For now, you were rather content with just scrolling through the #CorpseY/N hashtag, looking at the pictures and nice things people had to say about you both.

“they’re so cute when they talk to each other, you can just tell Corpse meant it when he said he was trying to steal Y/N away.”

“#CorpseY/N is my new favorite thing. Everyone shut up this is all I’ll be talking about from now on.”

“God why can’t they just be together already? #CorpseY/N”

Everyone was so supportive and sweet, it almost made you feel like you already were Corpse’s girlfriend. Although your heart hurt when you were brought back to reality, you couldn’t help but love the comments that everyone left. They were amazing.

Until they weren’t.

There are always two sides of the same coin. Along from the supporters and their loving actions, there were also those who seethed at the idea of you and Corpse.

They scrutinized everything about you to the point that you made your Instagram account- already with 30k followers- private.

Haters talked about you. Your body, your personality, how you weren’t worthy to even talk to Corpse and the rest of the Youtubers, and so much more. You’ve spent many nights with your Facetime mic muted so that Corpse couldn’t hear the small sobs coming from you.

These thoughts were almost always on the back of your mind, but you were sometimes able to push them away.

Like now- as you focused on your exam. Well, tried to focus. There comes to be a time where one can only hear so many negative things about themselves before they can’t ignore it anymore.

But alas, you tried your hardest and finished your exam, before walking out of the room and pulling out your phone. Now, you had a break before your new classes started and you’ve never been more relieved. You pulled up a certain contact and clicked on the message icon, beginning to type.

you:

i’m finished! up next, a break.

corpse:

I hope you did well. How long is your break?

you:

two weeks!

corpse:

Come spend it in San Diego

You stopped in your tracks, taken aback by the offer. You really didn’t think that he’d invite you over, but you weren’t about to complain. Instead, you sent back an ‘I’ll pack tonight :)’ and rushed home to do just that.

Corpse called you as you packed, just like he calls every night. You were used to the routine now, often falling asleep around 3am as he stays on the phone, doing whatever he does with his ruined sleep schedule until you wake up and say good morning.

Tonight, however, you were too jittery to sleep. You stayed up all night with Corpse, talking about anything and everything, like usual.

What wasn’t usual, though, was how distracted he sounded. It made you nervous- was he having second thoughts about inviting you over? Was something wrong?

Your thoughts nearly overwhelmed you, forcing you to say something.

“Are you okay, Corpse?” You tried to hide the small shake in your voice.

“Hm? Uh, yeah, yeah, everything’s good. Why?”

“It doesn’t sound like it. What’s going on? You’re acting off.”

His side of the phone was silent for a moment, before he let out a sigh. “I’m just thinking about what I’ve got to do before you get here tomorrow. Like, cleaning and stuff.”

“Pshh, that doesn’t matter to me.” You waved your hand, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness of your room.

“It’s just that, my apartment isn’t… the best. It’s small and there’s only one bedroom and it’s kind of shitty. I just don’t want it to be even more shitty.”

“Corpse, I’m coming there to spend time with you, not your apartment. I don’t care what any of that shit looks like. I’m going to be looking at you and hanging out with you. Not your apartment.” You didn’t mean to go on a tangent of reassurance, but you truly meant all of your words. “Hell, I might not even see the apartment because I already know I won’t be able to look away from you.”

“I- God, give me a minute. That took me off guard.” He laughed. “But thank you. I may not even be able to clean because I’ll be distracted too.”

“By what?”

“You, standing in front of me, in person.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s a fucking dream come true.”

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

taglist: @namjoons-crabssss @lookingforaplacetosleep @teenloves @princess00wifi @pillowjj @nvm-idgaf @creativedogs @wildflowerwhore @chillininahottub-withaghost @whyisquill @holosexualunicorn7000 @ourheavenlyemotions

┖┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┚

[dememetor]

HEY HEY HEY

I love your writing, can I please get jealous hcs for anyone? Please include suna thi he's my latest brainrot hAHA

hi, thanks for the request! and suna brainrot?? bitch me too the fuck. anyways, hope you enjoy~

(also sorry this is kinda late, i've rewritten iwaizumi and bokuto ones a million times)

Haikyuu boys when they're jealous

characters suna rintarou, kuroo tetsurou, iwaizumi hajime, bokuto koutarou, kenma kozume

warnings none but i'm probably gonna say fuck at some point

Suna Rintarou

he tries to be chill about it, he does

it hurts his ego to be this clingy but god

he can't help but to feel that sour sting of jealousy when he sees another guy approaching you

at first will only take a quick glance from afar, just to check if the guy is bothering you, and then promises himself to stay out of your business

well he doesn't

once he decides the guy has lost talking-to-y/n-alone privilege, he will nonchalantly make his way towards you, one hand in his pocket, other sneaking its way to your shoulder, resting his elbow and giving the poor boy a menacing look

he can be pretty intimidating too with that eyeliner and all

(but that look only works on people that don't know him well, he tried it on atsumu once and the latter just laughed in his face)

not the type to be openly jealous but when he sees someone blatantly flirting with you he will start to give you the Glance

blinks slowly (you know, like that one blonde haired guy gif) and looks at you through raised eyebrows as if to say hey babe, i love you and i trust you. what the fuck tho

and when the guy starts being borderline creepy he'll appear between you - and i mean literally will inject himself between you two and strike a conversation with you as if nothing weird happened

they usually get the hint, but this one guy tried to go around him, still rambling about whatever and suna literally turned on his heel and said "come again?" with such unrivaled coldness, his eyes exuding just sheer fucking spite

but like i said, unless the other guy is asking for it, he's not the type to start a direct confrontation

will take you by the hand and leave without much thought because he simply doesn't have the time for that shit

he might seem grumpy afterwards but a couple of soft kisses usually do the trick

soft kisses which are followed by a breathless make out session with you on his kitchen counter because he still wants you to know you're only his

Kuroo Tetsurou

this little bitch

never gets jealous

and i mean never

once pretended he was jealous just to make you feel better (??? his logic? unparalleled) but once you found out you beat his ass

loves it when you get jealous though (he thinks it's cute)

sometimes he does get insecure, but he shows it in an unusual way

like if you've been talking to someone, smiling at your phone for a while he'll just get up and randomly do a couple puhs-ups, start flexing his muscles and shit

all while you're looking at him like,,

"babe, what are you doing"

"oh i didn't think you'd notice me there. since you're on your damn phone all day"

"...are you my mom?"

nah he'll be fine (will steal your phone though)

also it's the funniest thing when he sees someone trying to flirt with you

he will literally walk over there, introduce himself (not mentioning he's your boyfriend) and act really interested in the conversation

he plays this game where he tries to see how long will it take the guy to realise you two are together (longest time: 24 minutes, record holder: yahaba shigeru)

whenever the guy asks you something he will interrupt you and answer for himself as if the guy were flirting with him

"so, like what do you do in your free time?"

"not mu-"

"oh i love taking long walks on the beach, especially during sunsets. i really think it is healthy for the mind and the soul, not to mention quite romantic too. don't you too love sunsets, kevin?"

at one point kevin will have had enough of it

"i was talking to y/n alone here"

"aw don't worry, you're not bothering me"

he is such a pain in the ass

why can't he just be normal

Iwaizumi Hajime

rational, mature, i love him

seriously, he is the bestest boy and he will treat you so well because he trusts you and respects your friendship with other guys as well

but on those rare occasions when he does get jealous,, oh boy

first of all, the PDA skyrockets, he has to have his arm around you at all times - around your shoulder? on your waist? in your backpocket? his hand's been there done that

not in any way possesive but will be really annoying unless you give him your full undivided attention that day

he lets himself be selfish a bit, after all he is your boyfriend he can have you all to himself for a day, right?

jealous sex with him? better prepare a wheelchair cause you want be able to walk straight tomorrow

sees a boy trying to flirt with you? tries not to make a scene but absolutely will throw the first punch if he needs to

one day he was having a particularly rough time at practice and all he wanted to do was lose himself in your arms and fall asleep to the feeling your fingertips tangled in his hair

and then he saw this?? guy? (the audacity!) laughing with you after telling some dumb joke and let me tell you - iwaizumi wasn't having any of it

he came up to you from behind, wrapped his arms around your waist and planted a small kiss on the crook of your neck

"when are we going home, love?"

and he gives him the calmest yet most fear inducing stare from behind you

and suddenly the pattern on poor boy's pants starts to look awful lot like piss stain

it is actually kinda hot how one single look from him can cause such a reaction

"he was just asking about english homework babe"

"yeah that's what they all say"

Bokuto Koutarou

gets jealous so so easily

it is actually fascinating

will get mad at otome games

"what does jumin han have that i don't???"

god forbid you pay attention to your pet more than him (btw you have a golden retriever and his name is bean)

you're sitting on the couch cuddling with your dog, scratching his ears, ruffling his fur and all that, and there he is, your clingy boyfriend, snuggling right next to you, demanding you play with his hair too

so dramatic

"you smiled at him... the way you used to smile at me..."

"bokuto, he's a dog"

the only guy he trusts 100% to be around you is akaashi, even kuroo is on thin ice

but him and akaashi are something else, one time you three had a sleepover and you felt like you were the third wheel

will act like a tough serious boyfriend in front of others, especially your other guy friends but in reality will look for affection immediately after

oh while we're at it - jealous bokuto kisses? are the best kisses

will also force you to wear one of his shirts for the rest of the day

my poor man is so touch starved so when he feels insecure or jealous he will look for comfort in things like holding your hand, nuzzling your neck or giving forehead kisses

but later that day, when you two are sitting on the couch cuddling he will quietly ask you something along the lines of "you still think i'm pretty, right?"

you can feel him all over you - his hands are creeping down your waist, he's pulling you in, deepening the kiss until all you can see, think and feel is him

he wants to show you exactly how much he wants you and what you were missing out on while you weren't paying attention to him

and it shocks you for a moment because you didn't realise just how much that one short moment of jealousy actually stayed with him

you have to reassure him he's the most beautiful boy you have ever met, and not only that, but also the funniest and the most caring person as well, and that you would never leave his side no matter what happened

and as much as he loves getting praised he always gets embarrassed, so he just smiles in return, but he is also happy to know you're there for him and you don't think he is too much

Kenma Kozume

it depends on his mood honestly

sometimes he doesn't mind it even if the other guy is flirting with you and sometimes will get pissy if you smile at the cashier

but when this boy gets really jealous oh my GOD

he is just like bokuto if not worse; he just hides it so well

one time you went grocery shopping with him and spent the entire time texting your friend who had just told you she was visiting your city

and he got so offended

you didn't even notice it until later that day when you came home and he suddenly refused to cuddle with you

silent treatment

lifts his nose and ignores you, only giving you dirty side glances from under the eye

such a massive sense of pride in those 170 cm even oikawa would be impressed

in my country there's a saying "it's in the smallest bottle that the poison lies" and honestly? yeah

at some point you realise why he's acting like that and you start teasing him

"i am not jealous i am just mildly irritated" is the only thing he deems necessary to say before going back to being unnecessarily pissed

he reminds you of an angry cat

it's kind of amusing seeing him like this but you were also getting real tired of his shit

don't even try bribing him (you tried buying him over with a ps5 but he just looked at you unimpressed, disgusted that you think so low of him)

the only thing he will accept is a sincere apology

if it's sincere or not is up to him to decide, obviously

which can lead to quite some bickering

will try to get you to beg but please have dignity, if you do it once he will make you do it every time

yeah generally a lttle shit but his kisses after making up are just as eager as yours so

[sonianvmd]

thh characters with a crush on you

warnings: none, maybe some swearing but otherwise nothing major

oH and mentions of murder and death but this is danganronpa so im going to assume u expected as much

a/n: so we kickin this blog off with a bang, writing for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CAST LMFAOAOAOAO (excluding hifumi, yasuhiro, and the two despairs doe bc i’ve already made that clear)

also some character’s sections are shorter than others im sorry i just couldnt think of as many bullet points for them *tiktok cry emoji*

edit: I FORGOT CELSESTE FU K SORRY

spoilers under the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

makoto naegi

when he realizes he likes you, he doesn’t necessarily panic or anything, but he does get nervous

nervous around you, that is

y’all saw how he was with sayaka

if he says anything that might sound intimate then he’ll immediately rephrase it or reassure he didn’t mean anything by it

he really only does have good intentions but his wording just kinda flops sometimes

he appreciates how you listen to him and value what he says

you don't make him feel dumb or inferior compared to a bunch of ultimates with actual talents

he’ll muster up the courage to tell you eventually

let’s hope his luck comes through 😁

byakuya togami

now when THIS man realizes he likes you, he a bitch nigga bout it 😐

he can't believe he fell for a common plebeian such as you

but it was hard not to

the way you preferred to get to the point

the way you were aware of your situation and didn't sugarcoat how you felt about it, although you certainly were nicer with it than him

he's ruthless

anyways

you knew your priorities and spent no time trying to use your resources

he noticed how much you had in common; in you, he saw himself

and we all know how this mf feels about himself 😐

he’ll be quick to defend you in class trials

he won’t realize he’s doing it but he just subconsciously protects you

but just because he doesn't notice it, don't mean the rest of the class brushes past it as well

yeah they on his ass LMFAOO

kyoko kirigiri

kyoko is very good at keeping her composure so she won’t be very obvious

she’ll probably just hang around you more

she’ll also defend you in class trials, calmly

“oh, it couldn’t have been [name]. i remember seeing them in their dorm around the time the murder took place.”

hifumi probably finna say some dumb shit like “aye what was you doin in their dorm doe” but anyways

she finds you respectable

if you have anything to contribute, she’ll let you take the floor

when she tells you, she’s very composed, but also very indirect LMFAO

she’s not too sure on how to express her interest in you but maybe she’ll go about it like “well, [name], now we’ve made it here, would you like to step back into the world with me?” or somethin else along those lines idk

take her hand

pls

toko fukawa

y’all know her whole “master togami” shtick

yeah so 😁😁😁😁

no but fr, toko ofc still has her borderline stalkerish 🧍🏾‍♀️ tendencies

she’ll often find herself staring at you, either in the library or in the morning meetings everyday at breakfast

but she isn’t as straight forward as she is with byakuya

i actually think she’d be mad shy and non confrontational

the whole thing she kept up with him ? yeah, never again

if you approach her first then she’ll be able to get a few words out but for most of the conversation, she’ll just nervously play with her braids

you’ll most likely put two and two together

unless ur a makoto kinnie bc then you’ll have to wait till someone else puts it in place for u but anyways

if you decide to approach her about it, you’ll kinda be backing her into a corner bc she’s just bad at deflecting things lmao

she’ll eventually confess (begrudgingly but hey i mean its better than nothing)

expect much stuttering and a gesture like giving you a small gift

and not to be that writer that uses japanese terms in english writing but toko seems like a tsundere but not really if that makes sense?? so she’d probably shove it in your hands and if you try to say something then she’ll just try to play it off as not a big deal lol

calls u a baka 😍😍

aoi asahina

i know y’all all see how she is with sakura

yeah.

aoi is the kind of person who’d like to spend time with their crush rather than shy away from them

she values you and your friendship very much

bring her donuts

just trust me bring her donuts

she doesn’t really realize she’s into you like that for a while but believe me, she is, the whole time

and yeah i think she’d be nervous to tell you bc that’s just natural but ultimately she’d be cool about it

uh oh looks like we goin for a swim

sakura ogami

similar to kyoko, she’s very calm

despite her big and bad appearance, she really is a sweet girl

she cares for you and your well-being very much

will indeed go on x games mode for you

the way she tells you is very sincere and well spoken

kith her

naow

im sorry this is like the shortest one i couldn’t think of much for her 😔😔

leon kuwata

flirtatious ass mf

and he’s lightskin

so this just cannot go well

y’all know that bit where it’s like the guy yawns and stretches his arms up and then wraps one around your shoulder

yeah that’s literally him LMFAOO

he’s very confident

he was fairly well known with the ladies at his old school so you know he’s rhockin wit it ‼️

but

you feel.. different than usual ??

those girls were just lil flings n dates bc he was nice enough to accept their confessions and it boosted his ego anyway so it was a win win

but you

he was genuinely interested in you since he had saw you the first time

he didn’t just acknowledge your appearance

he learnt about your personality and your hobbies and what you liked and such, and he really cared and wanted to hear you talk about it all

he felt the need to really make an effort to show you how much he respected and had affections for you

he doesn't tell you in a grand way

probably just asks you out to a movie or somethin

he's chillin

mondo owada

you know

for being the biggest, baddest, most respected biker gang leader

or just for being in a biker gang period

mondo’s a huge softie lol

yeah he gets violent but he’s a sweet guy who cares about and is loyal to his friends

so mfs need to be nice to you

or they gettin whooped

when he decides it’s time to tell you how he feels, he thinks over his words and he’s all confident there’s no way you’d reject him but then he sees you in the halls and goes 🧍🏾 LMFAOOO

he’ll push through but it’s like he’ll walk up to you and look away from you because he refuses eye contact and just go

“so y/n, would you wanna.. tch.. come to a drive-in movie with me or somethin’?... dumbass.”

real smooth mondo i think you got em good job

please tease him LMFAOO it’d be so funny

he’d probably yell but you can tell he’s not mad so you just keep going with it

but once you’re done tormenting him, you do agree to the movie, don’t worry 🙏🏾

also mondo would call his s/o doll

that is all

chihiro fujisaki

my fav dude in a dress <3

chihiro would be quite shy, but that’s just how he is tbh so no surprise there

he’s very kind so he’d check up on you often just to see how you are

he cares about you v much

the way he confesses is one that consists of a red face as he offers you a box of candy or something similar

and he’d feel honored that you reciprocate his feelings

he’d be very scared to tell you his secret but once he does, he’s delighted to hear it doesn’t make any difference to you

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you

not only because woooo they like me back but also because you like him despite,, well everything about him LMFAOO

sweet lil boy

i’d feel like he’d talk about you to alter ego a lot

and when u meet the program for the first time, he’s like “oh! you must be [name]! master’s told me all about you :)”

sobbing i miss him

kiyotaka ishimaru

okay here’s the thing

if taka were to like someone

i can’t tell whether he’d be more strict because he doesn’t want them to get in trouble (and also so it would hopefully divert any suspicion that he DOES like you since he treats you the same as everyone else, only more)

or if he’d hold back more because he favors them LMFAOO

so imma write a lil bit for both

in the case that he was even stricter:

he’d prefer to be around you because he believes the best way he can make sure you stay out of trouble is to make sure you don’t get into any in the first place

of course it’s impossible to monitor you every second of every day but he does his best to make sure you’re doing well

if he sees you do anything out of line, he’s shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY

but in the case he let up:

he’d still lecture you but noticeably less than the other students

if your feet were resting on top of a desk, he’d ask you to move them and then leave you alone rather than yell at you and forcibly move them himself

if you notice his behavior towards you in comparison to the other students do not tease him about it he will go as red as his eyes /hj

either way he’s confessing to you with a polite but exaggerated bow while holding out a well thought out letter with both hands

sayaka maizono

she will tell you

idk why but i feel like she’d be straight up lol

she’d make sure she’s sincere

she is the ultimate pop idol and all so she wants to make sure you know that she really does like you and isn’t playing a sick joke on you or anything

ok bc

while i do think she’d tell you

i’d feel like she’d be a little indirect just to see how you feel

like she’d give you a free ticket to one of her upcoming concerts with a kind smile

and naturally, you're like :o

and of course you come to support her

and seeing you smile at her from the crowd and cheer her on was the encouragement she needed to push her to ask you out

for real this time

she asks if you wanna come to a concert with her and ur like “oh yeah i love ur shows!!” bc ur dumb and then she’s like “no i mean.. for another artist” and eventually it hits you that she’s asking you out and ur like “oH YEAH YEAH SURE THAT SOUNDS GREAT YEAH OK” LMFAOO

———

i really hope that this is good LMFAOO this is my first time writing for dr so 😃👍🏾

fun fact i finished toko’s section first and taka’s last 😁😁

and i’d like to thank @mius-imagination @bloodygir n the rest of the discord for helping me figure some of these characters out *simultaneously whips and nae naes*

bye ive been working on this for like weeks this took forever

———

edit: here’s a deleted section bc i kept blanking for this character 😍

[soulmate-game]

Harley's Plea for Help ch. 6

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6-- you are here

Yet another night of barely any sleep, but this time Marinette didn’t have the coffee-angel Red Robin at her rescue. No, instead she had to go completely uncaffeinated until she and her class got to Wayne Enterprises. Madame Mendelieve could only sigh as she watched Marinette scamper off to the café as soon as they made it past the initial security of the building. A couple of her classmates chuckled or snorted at her familiar behavior.

It was the same barista at the register as before, but this time Marinette felt too tired to properly order or be adventurous in looking for new flavors.

“I feel like death. I don’t care if it tastes like pure bean oil today. Flavors will take away from the amount of coffee you can shove in one cup, right?”

The poor barista blinked, eyeing the deep bags forming under the poor girl’s eyes. She sighed. “I had hope yesterday that you were just a normal caffeine addict. Now I see we actually have a second Mister Drake,” she said it as if she was mourning at Marinette’s grave before poking a few buttons on her touchscreen order station and turning her head. “One Insomniac CEO, but not for the boss!” She called out. The barista making the drinks paused for a second with wide eyes.

“We have another one?!” He asked, shocked. “Piece of advice?” He turned to Marinette. “Get some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the dead,” Marinette deadpanned back. “I got stuff I need to do today.”

The guy just shook his head and sighed, making the drink as Marinette paid and left a good tip. The drink came out fairly quickly, and everyone behind the counter stopped for a moment to stare as she gulped down the hot drink with no concern for her tongue or throat. A satisfied sound left her as she finally pulled away from the cup.

“This is really good!” She complimented, turning to the Baristas with a still-tired smile. It would take a minute or two for the coffee to have full effect, but she already felt better. “A little too bitter for my usual tastes, but perfect for days like today. Thanks!” She waved at them before turning around and seeing that her class was already gone again. Before she could fully process that though, a hand slapped down onto her head and ruffled her hair.

Surprised (really, not a lot of people could sneak up on her anymore. Just how tired was she?) she let out a high pitched squeal.

“You’re a good kid,” the soft, slightly scratchy voice that said that made Marinette’s shoulders drop and eyes widen. Tilting her head back she was greeted with the widely-grinning face of Jason Todd. He was once again in the uniform of a security guard.

“Wha— Uh,” Marinette couldn’t quite find the right words right away. She was too stunned. Jason just chuckled, jerking his head to indicate the same door her class had gone through the day before and leading the way over there. Marinette scrambled to catch up.

Once they were far away enough from prying eyes and ears, Marinette cleared her throat.

“Um,” she started. “Did… I mean, do you..?”

“Yeah, our mutual friends had a chat with me last night,” he confirmed casually. He sent her a meaningful look even though his grin never left his face. “Like I said; you’re a good kid. And I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re not responsible for the things your parents have done, you know.”

The girl at his side hummed noncommittally, not fully convinced but also not wanting to argue.

“You’re not,” he repeated firmly, stopping in the middle of the side-hallway. They could see her class at the other end getting checked in, but didn’t make a move to join them yet. “I mean it. The stuff that happened to me, none of that was you. Hell, you were a little kid back then. And there’s nothing you could have done to stop it, either. I’m not gonna hold anything against you just because you’re his child. You didn’t ask to be,” he shrugged. “Besides, I get it. Biological relation doesn’t equal family. Trust me,” his grin was gone and a tired one replaced it. “I know that better than most people.”

The pigtailed girl could only gulp, taking a deep breath as she forced down the tears that wanted to bubble up. She had had this conversation with Adrien a few times, but even then she had been convinced that he just didn’t understand. He was just being nice. But this— Jason’s words were more valuable than gold to her. He had no reason to be nice, so it had to be at least partially sincere.

“Thanks,” she whispered once she was positive she wasn’t going to break. She lifted her cup up and took a long sip of her coffee. The slight burn against her tongue helped ground her. “That means more than you know.”

Jason chuckled. “Nah. The fact that you stood up for me to the Bat,” his grin returned to his face full blast, making dimples appear on his cheeks. “Now that, you have no idea how much that means to me. You must have some serious guts to lecture that guy, too. Is it too late to adopt you for myself?”

That tore a quick laugh out of her, making her classmate’s head whip over to the opposite end of the hallway where she and Jason were. She quickly quieted herself, but her eyes danced with amusement as she looked up at Jason. “You’re too young to be my parent anyway, but I wouldn’t say no to a brother,” she joked. Jason’s eyes sparkled.

“Good, exactly what I was aiming for!” He slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. “That’s my number. Call me if you ever need anything, got it?” He turned to resume leading her back to her class and she quickly slipped the paper into her pocket before anyone saw and got the wrong idea. “And I mean anything.”

Marinette just smiled and nodded. By then, they were close enough for Alya to smirk and ask; “What took ya so long, girl?”

“Oh,” Marinette shuffled a little on her feet before an observation gave her a last minute idea and she straightened up with a wide smile. “We just got distracted talking about motorcycles!”

Jason’s eyebrows raised for a quick second before he settled his expression again and played along. He had figured that not many people knew about her biological family. That part made sense. But she had been a total mess just the day before when she had tried to lie about Paris’ little villain problem in front of Bruce. How was she able to actually come up with a good lie this time around, when she had been just as much put on the spot? He wondered to himself about what was different about this situation to allow her to lie more easily. Maybe Bruce not being there was part of it— she seemed easily flustered by famous people.

Think of the devil, because no sooner had that thought finished developing in Jason’s mind before Bruce Wayne walked into the hallway with a paparazzi-ready smile. Jason rolled his eyes and sunk to the back of the group silently, sinking back into his job and keeping an eye on their surroundings. He listened as Alya laughed softly and elbowed Marinette even as the group turned their attention to Bruce.

“You and your bikes,” Alya teased. “If someone knew enough about motorcycles, I bet you’d marry them on the spot.”

“Nah,” Marinette whispered back. “If they gave me a really nice one though? That’s marriage potential for sure.”

The two girls laughed for a second before focusing back on the tour. Adrien wasted no time making his way to Marinette’s side, silent questions in his eyes. Jason watched with interest as the two seemed to silently communicate with one another. It was obvious that Adrien was calling her lie, and Marinette was essentially silently telling him that she would explain later. It was so seamless and subtle that if Jason hadn’t been extremely familiar with that kind of communication already, he wouldn’t have noticed it. Once again his eyebrows rose a tick on his forehead, and he made a mental note of the interaction. That kind of silent conversation wasn’t an easy thing to do with people. It was most commonly seen in married or otherwise long-term couples, childhood friends, family, or hero partners. The childhood friends and family sections were already ruled out from their background check on her and Harley herself had mentioned that even though Marinette had once crushed on Adrien, she had unofficially adopted the boy as her brother since then. Though, their time as close friends was only documented as having lasted about a year. That wasn’t quite enough time for that sort of effortless silent communication to be possible.

Of course, Jason had his suspicions already. But there was no rush, either. The Clown was on the move and more important to focus on for now. He could focus on the puzzle that was Marinette and Adrien later.

Bruce took over the tour as he had the day before, and the class was instantly riveted once again. If the fact that they were being led through the building by the very man who owned it wasn’t awesome enough to get everyone’s full attention, the man’s personality was. He came off a little carefree and very kind, but there was an obvious undercurrent of just how much he loved his company that showed that he did take it and his job seriously. Just, not too seriously either. And he interjected everywhere he could with personal stories and anecdotes and little bits of his family history that the normal tour guides might not have known. It was not long after he announced that he was going to take them to a lower lab set aside specifically for their class’ tour, so that they could do their first interactive activity, that jason found the opportunity to sidle up next to Marinette on the opposite side from where Adrien walked alongside her.

“So,” he said casually. “How’d you know I ride a motorcycle?” he smirked to show he wasn’t upset as he looked down at her curiously. Marinette blinked, taking her attention away from Bruce to look over at Jason. Once his words registered, she smiled widely and pointed to one of his pockets. The corners of his bike gloves flopped over the edge.

“I noticed those. I figured you’d have a negative reaction that might give us away if my lie was too off the mark, and I do have a habit of saying stupid things if I don’t have a clue or something to play off of. I also had to make it believable for the class, and they all know that my Nonna has played a huge part in my love for motorcycles. I plan on getting a license to drive one when I turn sixteen later this year,” she told him softly. “I tend to gush whenever I see a cool bike, so I knew they wouldn’t question it.”

Jason huffed a little bit of laughter under his breath. It was like the trope of a character looking at random items in the room to come up with a fake name, but somehow it had actually worked for her. She was quick-witted and clever, he had to admit. And observant.

“I was running late, so I must have left them in my pocket when I was changing,” he admitted, unbothered. “Ah, here we are,” he nodded to return the two teen’s (he had noticed Adrien paying close attention as he and Marinette had their conversation) attention back to the tour. Bruce opened the door for the class with a flourish, gesturing for everyone to go in.

“Since these first few days are going to be tours and lessons about working in general, your first activity of your trip is to solve various problems we’ve given you based on real situations that WE employees have been in before. Split up into groups, and choose a table. Each table has a different problem covering a different industry. Reporting, Science— specifically research and development, business management, and entertainment…”

—*—*—*—*—*

“It’s straight,” Adrien assured her, trying to keep himself from laughing as Marinette straightened his tie for the millionth time. “I promise. And you look fantastic.”

Marinette stepped back, nodding at Adrien’s appearance in approval. “I know. We both look great, but…” she fidgeted and then stepped forward to go right back to over-straightening his tie. Adrien snorted, grabbing her hands before she could touch the poor thing again and lowering her arms to her sides.

“Calm down. Like you said, we both look great. You don’t have a single hair out of place, the outfits you made us look amazing, and my tie is at a perfect ninety degree angle to my collar. Take the model’s word for it,” he teased with a lopsided grin. “We look ready for the front cover of a magazine. So just take a deep breath, because we should get down to the lobby soon to wait for the ride he’s sending for us.”

“Right,” Marinette nodded. She followed his advice and took a deep breath. Once she was suitably calmed, she opened her eyes and nodded at him. Adrien smiled and held out his arm, making Marinette snort as she took hold of it gently and let him lead her to the elevator.

Bruce had not specified whether the dinner was going to be casual or formal, but with the fact that his kids were going to be present and it was at his own house, Marinette had a feeling it was going to be more of a casual thing than if they had went out to a fancy restaurant with a black tie dress code. At the same time, this was the Wayne manor they were talking about. She didn’t want to be underdressed, either. Not to mention that it was her design skills that had played a huge part in her winning the contest in the first place, so she felt like she had to show her work again to prove that they had chosen the right person.

A playful wolf whistle greeted the two of them when they got down to the lobby. Alya was, to no one’s surprise, the perpetrator. She stood in the lobby with Alix, Nino, and Max, who all had known about the dinner and agreed to be there to see the two of them off and put Marinette’s worries to rest. The four of them jogged over, Alix smiling and adding her own soft whistle of appreciation.

“You guys look great,” the short skater assured them, taking the time to skate slow circles around them to make sure that nothing was wrong with their outfits. “I think you’ve outdone yourself, Mari! Very cool.”

Alya nodded eagerly, bouncing in place with a wide, beaming smile on her face. “Ah! The both of you look ready to kick ass and woo rich people!” she added. Max pushed his glasses up on his nose with a small grin.

“There is a ninety-five percent chance of your work impressing all of the Waynes,” he said in his own version of encouragement.

“You guys got this!” Nino shot them a thumbs up. “They beat me to all the stuff I wanted to say.”

Marinette beamed, laughing along with her friends as she allowed herself to relax a little. Adrien’s outfit was of her own making, a subtle way for him to rebel since his father had sent him with his own Gabriel brand suit should an appropriate opportunity to wear it come up. Adrien had no plans of ever putting his father’s suit on his body. In an effort to spice up formal men’s wear a bit without making the whole thing white and silver like Gabriel wanted, Marinette had made him a classic silk shirt in black, with short sleeves that fell at that perfect halfway point between his elbow and shoulder. The sleeves had thick cuffs in a dark forest green, with decorative straight stitches on the seams in a bright magenta pink thread. On top of that was a corset-style sleeveless vest with a deep V. The majority of the vest was the same black as the shirt, but with dark green hand-stitched swirls that were just barely bright enough to be contrasted against the black. It created a very subtle pattern that would be hard to see in the wrong lighting, but would make it look that much more expensive and elaborate in the right lighting. The lapel of the vest was in the same dark forest green as the cuffs of his shirt, with a few decorative swirls embroidered on the very corners. The piping of the corset-vest made three curved lines on either side of his waist, curling from mid-rib cage to his waist. It gave him a slightly more feminine twist to his outfit, making his waist look smaller even though it wasn’t actually pulled very tight on him— it was mostly the illusion made by the piping rather than the actual tightness of the garment. The two outside piping lines were done in a magenta pink, while the middle piping line was once again in dark forest green. Unlike most corset-style vests, this one had no buttons or zipper on the front at all. Instead, it was closed only by corset lacing in the back, the laces done in such a dark shade of green that it was almost black, while the eyelets that the laces were threaded through were that same magenta pink as the piping and decorative stitches elsewhere on the outfit. The tie that Marinette had spent so long making sure was straight was almost entirely soft lace, but it was layered in such a way with layers of sheer green and pink lace that it looked like it was a constant swirl of the two colors. If someone got close enough to see the pattern of the lace tie, they would notice that it was a pattern of cats chasing a butterfly.

Underneath the artistic top of the outfit were black dress pants, once again with thick forest-green cuffs on the bottoms. But instead of the decorative stitching, the pant legs flared a bit at the ankles for just a little extra drama. Magenta-pink Oxfords peeked out of the wide cuffs. The green detailing made Adrien’s eyes pop, while the pink accents gave his boyish charm a little more of a feminine touch that almost seemed to highlight his naturally sensitive and charming nature.

In contrast, Marinette wore a sleeveless pink pantsuit. It was the same shade as the pink accents in Adrien’s outfit, and had a built-in corset as well that went only around her natural waist. The corset boning on Marinette was a solid black, while the rest was just the same base pink as the majority of the suit. The black of the boning seemed to flow downwards, changing from boning into thick hand-embroidery in thread of the exact same black. The embroidery flowed down the sides of both legs, in the shape of tree branches and apple blossoms. Pale green accents in the form of swirls at her high neckline and a pale green lace capelet that was the only thing covering her shoulders helped tie her outfit in with Adrien’s. She also wore pale green low kitten heels and her black hair up in a braided bun. With how her pant legs were form-hugging until they flared out slightly at the heel, and the lack of sleeves exposed her toned arms and shoulders and emphasized her strength there without making her look unbalanced or too masculine for the rest of the outfit’s style, she looked ready to rock the business world. Her bright blue eyes clashed with the green details of the outfit just enough to bring attention to them, assuring that people who met her eyes would not be able to easily look away.

The quick snap of a phone’s flash went off, drawing everyone’s attention to Madame Bustier. She was beaming at all of them, and had just taken a picture of her two students all dressed up. She waved her phone happily. “I’m sending this picture to the both of you. I’m so proud of you guys!” she gushed.

Marinette and Adrien both blushed deep red, shifting in their spots. They were confident in their looks, and Adrien was just as proud of his pseudo-sister, but neither of them was very good at handling so much positive attention aimed only at them. Especially not from their extremely sincere friends and teacher.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” An older gentleman with a British accent turned everyone’s attention to him. The first thing Marinette thought was that he had kind eyes. He also had soft wisps of white hair on his head, carefully trimmed and slicked back. Of course, Marinette and Adrien also couldn’t miss the high quality and perfect press of his carefully maintained suit. Once he had shown all the proper credentials to Madame Bustier, he introduced himself to the two well-dressed teens with a shallow bow. “I am Alfred Pennyworth, the butler for Wayne Manor. I am to escort the both of you there for supper tonight.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, Monsieur Pennyworth,” Marinette said, walking up and shaking his hand. Adrien was right by her side the whole time, matching her smile watt for watt and shaking Alfred’s hand with just as much enthusiasm.

“Yeah, thank you for having us over. I know it was technically Bruce who invited Marinette, but you’re probably the one that has to do all the work. So, thank you. We really appreciate it,” he told the man sincerely. Alfred’s answering smile was soft, almost fond.

“Yes, I admit I am in charge of most of the work for tonight. But you shouldn’t worry, it’s no different from any other day at the manor,” he said lightheartedly, a little bit of good natured snark shining through his otherwise proper behavior— “Every last one of the Waynes would die in less than a week without me to keep everything in order,” he joked. “Allow me to lead you to the car.”

Marinette and Adrien followed behind Alfred. She didn’t know if it was the calming aura he put off, or if it was the gentle way his eyes sparkled that made her want to look after him. But whatever it was, she found herself wanting to protect this kind old man already. Which is why her eyebrows slightly pinched together. Before climbing inside the luxurious town car he had brought for them, she couldn’t help but turn to Alfred and ask;

“I hope you aren’t overworked. I don’t want to overstep, Monsieur, but isn’t the Wayne family rather large for one person to look after on their own?”

Alfred laughed gently at that, his eyes once again softening. “Do not worry about me, Miss Dupain-Cheng. They are family to me. And though, yes, you are correct in assuming they are a handful, they are also wonderful people. They help me where they can, but taking care of themselves is not their forte. Being able to do that for them is my greatest joy.”

The wrinkles in Marinette’s brow smoothed out and she smiled. “That’s so sweet. You’re making me want to meet them all even more.”

Something about that twinkle in Alfred’s eye made her feel like he was laughing at some joke she didn’t hear. “I’m sure all of you will get along swimmingly.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“I FOUND HER FIRST!”

Alfred had barely opened the manor’s doors to let Marinette and Adrien inside before the chaos started. Or rather, before they were let in on it— it seemed as if the chaos had already been going on for a while.

Jason skidded across the floor in a mad dash, having to grasp the doorframe he was running out of so that he could turn the corner sharply and veer towards them.

“Tell them, Marinette! I found you first, you’re my sister now, don’t fall for any of their Jedi mind tricks!”

Marinette just blinked, a little caught off guard. It hadn’t exactly sunk into her head until right that moment that ‘Wayne Family dinner’ would include Jason. Her mind was still catching up to the fact that she was seeing him out of his security guard uniform for the first time. He wasn’t dressed up at all, in a well-loved brown leather jacket over a white shirt and dark wash jeans. He still had his motorcycle gloves on. Marinette looked down at first herself, then Adrien.

“Are we overdressed?” She asked with a grimace. Jason huffed.

“Of course not, you guys look amazing! But seriously, tell them that I claimed you as my sister first and none of them are half as cool as me.”

Marinette and Adrien traded glances before laughing together.

“If we’re being technical here,” Adrien drawled mischievously as he straightened out his vest. “I met Marinette first, and she adopted me as her brother long before we met any of you,” he pointed out with a sharp grin.

“Ha!” a younger man laughed pointedly, following after Jason. The newcomer was dressed more formally, in a dress shirt under a very luxurious looking burgundy designer sweater. Under that, he wore black perfectly-pressed slacks and nondescript oxfords. His collar showed signs of housing a tie earlier, but he had clearly taken it off sometime earlier. His hair hung slightly long, framing his face with two long locks while the back of his hair slightly stuck up in all directions in natural tufted curls. Like Jason, his hair was jet black and he had bright blue eyes. He was also about half Jason’s size, much shorter and leaner than his adoptive brother. “He’s got you there, idiot,” he snarked smugly at Jason before turning to the two guests. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, Mister Agreste. I’m Tim Drake-Wayne, it’s nice to finally meet both of you,” he introduced himself as he walked over to shake their hands. “And your outfits are amazing! Did you make them, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

“Marinette,” she corrected with a lopsided grin. “My last name is a mouthful, and I prefer to just go by Marinette anyway. And yes, I made both of these outfits before we left Paris,” she admitted, trying her best to seem professional. She had already ruined her chances of that with Bruce and Jason, but this time she was prepared!

“They are just as impressive as the rest of your work that I’ve seen. And call me Tim, it’s only fair,” and then he smiled.

Damn his boyish grin. He wasn’t someone Marinette had a crush on— he wasn’t her type— but damn he was unfairly charismatic and charming. His smile temporarily short circuited her brain. That was exactly the kind of boyish smile that had started her crush on Adrien, and that she was unfairly weak for. Now she felt a deep-seated urge to protect this boy and his smile or so help her, someone would be sent to the ER if he was hurt and it wasn’t gonna be her. And she didn’t try to dissuade herself from that strong protective urge, her mother had already assured her that all the Waynes were trustworthy and that Tim in particular shared a lot of her bad habits. She could allow this little bit of vulnerability. Hopefully.

“... I’ve only known you for two minutes, but if anything happened to you I would kill everyone in this room and then myself,” she breathed. Adrien elbowed her hard, making her yelp.

“You said that out loud Mari,” he deadpanned. A deep flush immediately came over her face, and she covered her mouth with both hands.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry— but you— just forget I said anything. Please!”

Tim was visibly shocked, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Jason snorted, overcoming his own brief moment of shock pretty easily.

“Careful there,” Jason chided good-heartedly. His gaze met Marinette’s with a slight weight in it though. “You barely know the guy. He’ll annoy you out of your mind soon enough.”

Marinette caught the hint, wincing and changing the subject. Jason could see that she had done exactly as her mother had warned— she had gotten attached to Tim almost immediately. And while he wanted to believe Marinette when she said that the same wouldn’t happen with Joker, that she was not going to repeat her mother’s mistakes…

He couldn’t help but worry. Joker was a slippery bastard, and good at getting past people’s defenses.

Tim eventually led them all to the dining room, where several people were already sat waiting for them.

“We decided it would be best if we didn’t all swarm you at the door,” Tim explained, grinning at her kindly. “Take a seat wherever you want, Alfred is probably going to be done with dinner soon.”

Marinette and Adrien both nodded, going to sit by each other’s side. Adrien put his hand on her knee when they sat down, and traded a meaningful look with her.

“Calm down,” he whispered. “We’re not in Paris. And if you slip, I’ll catch you. Promise.”

Marinette’s shoulders relaxed a little. Yeah, she could trust Adrien to make sure she didn’t slip up too much. Get too careless. He’d watch her back like she did for him. She’d be okay. They’d both be okay.

“Thanks, Adrien. I needed that.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list:

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

Story Tag list:

@golden-promises @tazanna-blythe @chocolatecatstheron @dorkus-minimus @laurcad123 @mizzy-pop

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @deathssilentapproach-blog @user00000003 @frieddonutsweets @blur-of-colours @prettylittlebutterflie @ladyqnoirr @a-star-with-a-human-name @mizzy-pop @laurcad123 @literaryhiraeth @asrainterstellar @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @miraculous-trinity-leo @missanalysis @lovelyautumnsunflower @lolieg

[randomreshiram]

Can we know about personalities of the legendaries pokemon in your AU if you are not busy?

Yeah! Ok before i get into detail i’ve had made multiple different personalities for different pokémon in different au kind of things, anyway for the sake of answering i’ll just go of my most recent Pokeronpa LK AU set with brief descriptions

————————————————————————

Mewtwo: Taciturn, serious, doesn’t take jokes too well, especially on a serious issue, can come if as rude because of it.

Lugia: Nice and outgoing, kinda have written him to act fatherly to most and especially to those who need it. He’ll almost get along with anyone, so if you find you aren’t…might want to check that attitude then. So if you ever need a guide for anything, Lugia’s your guy! Though he can also get chaotic.

Ho-oh: Ho-oh can be nice, a bit more serious than his counterpart. One thing is his temper, he can get angered and jealous easily and can be seen acting a bit petty because of it. Seeing Lugia help others as much as he doesn’t want to admit it annoys him. Also has a flirtatious side, but only seen with Lugia.

Latias: Sweet, very outgoing and talkative. She can get chaotic and usually has to be calmed down by her brother (Latios). I’ve also written her using a lot of modern slang so “Girlboss” and “Slay” are things you’d hear her typically say.

Latios: Quite the opposite of his sister. He’s nice, but overly cautious and a bit reserved to people he first meets. The paranoia of people out there to get them, mainly worried about Latias, usually drives him to get hostile. He can appear kinda ticked off but it’s all for good reason.

Kyogre: Just a encouraging friendly whale. But around Groudon it’s basically a turn for a sadist type. She can get competitive and do some reckless things when it comes to the classic land and sea debate.

Groudon: OH BOY, basically any frat boy or typical player type you’ve seen can accurately describe him. Just a guy trying to pick up a few ladies. Kyogre, despite being a girl, annoys the fuck out of him and he’ll do anything to keep his status as the “better of the two” (as there’s never been a status established). Also cue a lot of vulgar humor.

Rayquaza: I’d say on his own, he can be a bit of a daredevil, but with the previous two he’s the more responsible compared to them. He’s may look intimidating but he won’t bite, just looking for fun to distract his eternal pain.

Dialga: Introverted, she doesn’t enjoy talking to others too much and rather be playing some video game. Has an affinity for speaking the harsh truth and insulting others that annoy her at the slightest. She might of had some moments of loneliness, but no one can know about that.

Palkia: Have any nerd stereotypes, apply here, Palkia’s basically the definition of a teachers pet. He finds the study of just about anything compelling and interesting as it’s stimulating. He can be nervous about sharing his stuff sometimes though as Dialga never gave a fuck about it and kept insulting him. If he finds someone willing to listen, it might be a while. He’s a good tutor though.

Giratina: Oh Arceus, literally the spawn of distortion itself. He’s very egocentric and prideful about his work, and will often try to explain the benefits of manipulating others. He does look for “prey” to pick off on and use any factor from them to control them for his benefits. He can also be found with the occasional inappropriate remark. Not so surprising why he’s in the distortion world now, huh.

Reshiram: Pretty well educated and aware. She usually can easily tell if something is wrong and instantly tell if you’re lying as she’s seen a lot of peoples behavior when it comes to lying. If she finds out there’s an issue, she’s most likely to be the one to do something about it. Though as aware as she is, she still doesn’t know about the feud between Zekrom and Kyurem. Quite comical how she misses that.

Zekrom: He’s a party person, jokester, more optimistic and looks on the bright side of things, but with that he’s also not the brightest. Also any friend that agrees with him about anything he says about Kyurem is a friend for life, basically say that he [Zekerom] is meant for Reshiram and he’ll be your best friend. He can also be seen as a “simp”. Bonus: He’s a talented cook.

Kyurem: Cold (yes both figuratively and literally), reserved and prefers isolation, well except for Reshiram of course. Kyurem will literally do anything to make Zekrom mad and present himself as a better option. Kyurem also pretty sarcastic and enjoys hearing the creative insults others make, might be taking notes for later use. Besides that it’s hard to get him to open up, so don’t count on that if you try.

Xerneas: Nice, literally a saint. She’s pretty pure and will help pretty much anyone that’s not a psychopathic war criminal. She’s pretty calm and angelic most of the time, enjoys taking care of the ones in the forests of Kalos. She never gets mad, but if she does, hide.

Yveltal: Evil? No, quite the opposite. Yveltal’s pretty shy and introverted, not cause he doesn’t want friends but is scared of hurting them. He’s scared his power, or life draining aura, will hurt others and isolates himself for everyone’s sake. As much as he keeps a lot of his feelings and thoughts to himself, anger is his enemy. If he gets angry he’ll lash out as his emotions can get the best of him. Don’t worry, he’ll immediately apologize and hide away.

Zygarde: Zygarde’s a nice fellow, they just try to be supportive of his friends. He often worries about Yveltal along with Xerneas, but also don’t know how to help and end up leaving him alone. Zygarde also can be hard to understand as he speaks really formal, like the equivalent of reading something from the 1800’s. This also means he’s unfamiliar with modern social patterns and often described as disconnected.

Solgaleo: A jolly lad, very friendly and enjoys the company of others. He’s pretty calm but enjoys the thrill of adventure. When he gets upset, scared, or nervous he calms himself either by hanging around people or singing. Also HC, he speaks with an australian accent and slang.

Lunala: The best friend of Latias, total girl queen barb slay material girl. She’s nice and enjoys hanging out with her friends just about 24/7. Though if anyone bothers her or her friends you’re about to catch her hands, er, wings.

Zacian: The sister to Zamazenta, the more levelheaded one. Her respect is earned, and only those who know justice are likely to get it. She’s pretty serious but if you catch her in the right mood she can be found enjoying things, usually enjoying the karma that people receive (especially the karma for Giratina).

Zamazenta: The more laid back brother of Zacian, he’s known as a hero in Galar, and as much as he prides it he’s more laid back when it comes to duties. He likes to joke around and just have fun, and despite being a defense based pokémon when it comes to strangers he lets his guard down a bit too much.

That was a lot to type, but here ya go!

(Bound to have typos, sorry)

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Band-Aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes, But Your Kisses Do

summary:  in a standoff with an unsub, reader makes a choice: her life or spencer’s. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader 

category: angst/fluff at the end 

warnings/includes: canon typical case violence, based off of episode “haunted” so spoilers, guns/gun violence, hospitals, kissing, mentions of hotch’s stabbing 

word count: 3437 

author’s note: i wrote this one a while ago and thought i’d share it. if anyone wants to be tagged, i’m going to figure it out and i’ll add you to a tag list!!  

Band-Aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes, But Your Kisses Do

The two agents that sat on swivel chairs facing each other fake arguing about an episode of Dr. Who. Spencer had his legs straight out, resting on Y/N’s lap comfortably. She leaned forward and placed her chin on her hand as she explained to Spencer her thoughts on the episode. 

“Spencer, you cannot tell me that you don't think  David Tennant is hot! I watched the episode with you and I can tell you are-" 

“I’m not going to argue against that, Y/N. David Tennant is,” Spencer started as he fiddled with the lollipop that Garcia handed him when he and Y/N walked into the bullpen.

“Is what, Spence?” A teasing look graced her face as Spencer’s blush grew down his exposed neck and collarbone. 

“He’s hot, okay Y/N is that what you want me to say!” Spencer’s voice rose a couple octaves from his admission over his not-so-subtle-crush on The Doctor.

“That’s exactly what I wanted you to say, Spencer. Least I know we have the same type” She said with a wink. 

“You got a type, Y/N?” Derek called from the doorway of the conference room. 

“Yeah, hot doctors with brown hair”  Emily said without missing a beat. She had walked in behind Derek, the pair  of them discussing her annual Sin-to-Win Weekend in Atlantic City. 

“But they, you know, have to be like Time Lords, or whatever” She said in efforts to cover up her growing discomfort. 

She turned her attention back to Reid, who was in the process of trying to remove his leg from her warm lap. He did not want to give Derek anymore ammunition to make sly jokes at his not-so-subtle-crush on his best friend/co-worker. Secretly, he wanted to keep his leg there, against her soft thigh and maybe she’d drop her hands on his leg in a comforting gesture of….friendship. 

Garcia placed a tin decorated with white and orange cats dressed in bonnets on the table just within reach of Hotch’s usual spot near the monitor. Reid reached forward to open the tin, which he deduced was filled with Penelope’s infamous snickerdoodle cookies. Unfortunately, before the genius profiler could reach the gaudy tin, Penelope swatted his hand away from grasping the cookies. 

“Hey! Those are for Hotch” Penelope shouted as she grabbed the tin and moved them closer to Hotch’s chair. 

“What? You know I love cookies, Garcia. Come on, Hotch hates attention” 

“I just made some cookies, it’s not like I made him a cake.” Penelope argued as Derek and Emily both quietly eyed the cookies. 

“Spence, we’ll make cookies tonight. It looks like it’s just a paperwork day” Y/N said with a slight smile, that, in turn, elicited a big grin from an unsuspecting Spencer.

“Anyway,” Derek started as he chose to ignore the interaction that unfolded before him “we all know he’s going to act like nothing happened” he remarked as he fingered through the dozen case files spread out before him on the table. 

“Doesn’t mean we have to,” Penelope said sadly as she looked down at the cat cookie tin.  

“Maybe we should,” Reid said quietly to his co-workers. 

“But, I’m not built like that!” said Penelope. 

“Hotch is though, Penny,” Y/N noted as she snuck a cookie while Penelope’s back was turned. She broke it in half and handed it to Spencer under the table. He winked at her as she shushed him. 

“Yeah, Y/N,” Spencer said with a mouthful of cookie, “Hotch never blinks” he finished with a large swig of lukewarm, sugared coffee. 

“Classic Alpha Male” Spencer said, looking towards Derek. 

“Do you think he stared down Foyet...you know while it happened?” Emily questioned. She was usually the one who could stomach all these, but when it came to the team, she was as nervous as the lot of them. 

“It’s probably what saved his life,” Derek said somberly. 

“He can’t be okay,” Penelope said with a whisper. 

“I wouldn’t be,” Spencer said with an air of uncertainty, “I’m a blinker” 

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

There was an uncomfortable silence during the ride to Louisville. Hotch was more sullen than usual, but, thankfully, Garcia broke the tension with her reports via computer screen. 

“Our point in Louisville is Lieutenant Kevin Mitchell, my contacts don’t report any more attacks related to this unsub” JJ relayed. She sat next to Derek, who was across from Hotch and Rossi. Emily sat criss cross on the table across from the foursome. On the small jet couch, Spencer and Y/N played a game of chess as they listened to the initial reports JJ received from the local PD. 

“Call’s proving hard to track. He never had a driver’s license, so he’s probably still on foot,” Spencer mumbled without removing his eyes from the chessboard. 

“Or public transportation,” Y/N added as she cringed when Spencer announced “check”. 

“Well, he’s not going to get anywhere too far with his face all over the news,” Emily continued. 

“So, what do we think the stressor is,” Rossi nodded. 

“He just lost his job. Worked in a factory since 1990. He made appliances forever. Not a single promotion” Garcia’s voice came across a little staticky. 

“That’s a long time to be bitter,” Derek posed. 

“Or he just doesn’t care,” Reid countered. 

“According, to what you sent over Garcia, he kind of seems like a hermit. Far as I can tell he’s got no one. No wife, no children, no parents.” Y/N added with a sad tone in her voice. 

With a sharp tone, Hotch added “then why didn’t he kill himself?” 

“He’s not finished killing yet,” Reid continued the thought, “check mate!” 

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

It was at times like these that it seemed like the case drags on forever. Call had kidnapped a little boy, who, Spencer had figured out was Call’s biological son.  The local PD was getting them nowhere. Those overly macho cops seemed to be having a difficult time taking orders from JJ. Y/N watched as she marched over to Mitchell and demanded that he give a press conference. 

Y/N chuckled quietly to herself as she watched the interaction. JJ was a force to be reckoned with, especially when the life of an innocent child was at stake. That cop had no idea who he was challenging. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer called from his spot in front of the whiteboard. It was decorated with a combination of their messy, rushed handwriting. Spencer grasped his blue marker and looked at Y/N with a painful expression. 

“I’m not getting anywhere with this geographical profile,” Spencer’s somber tone flooded Y/N’s emotions with an overwhelming sense to comfort him. 

“Spencer, put the marker down and look at me, please, for a second.” He obliged as he turned to face her.

Y/N reached up on her tiptoes to gently rub her hands along the base of Spencer’s neck. He could feel the tension melt away. Spencer was not one for physical affection, but he realized that he, in fact, craved the soft touches of people he trusted. Whether it was a brotherly pat on the back from Morgan, a playful high five from Garcia, a proud fist bump from Hotch, Spencer had grown to seek out affection. 

“Y/N,” he said. His voice but a whisper in the loud, hectic bullpen. 

“Shh,” She could sooth his worries just with a graze of her hands across his neck. It was magic to a scientist. Her magical presence set him on fire. 

“Hey, we can do this, Spence, all of us, but we need you,” Y/N voice mirrored his own. A hushed whisper that fueled the flames of his love. 

Instead of kissing her forehead or even hugging her, all Spencer could make out was a small thank you, before, like the wind, she was gone to see if Garica had any updates on the missing boy. 

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

In a frantic hour, Garcia had discovered a possible location of Tommy and his father, Darrin. Like most the unsubs, they were children of tragedy. Children of abusive homes and of deep rooted violence. It was up to the team, as they raced down the street in their crowded SUVs, to stop the cycle of violence for claiming another innocent child. 

“Hotch, you are on speaker,” Emily called from the passenger seat of the car as Derek sped down the warehouse where they suspected Tommy to be held. 

“Do not go in there without SWAT, do you all here me?” Hotch said sternly. 

“That means you, Derek, don’t go in there till backup gets there,” JJ added from the phone that Emily held. 

“You got it, boss man,” Derek made a sharp turn that led Y/N to nearly fall into Spencer, who sat next to her. 

“Spencer! Where is your vest!?” Y/N asked him impatiently, with a tinge of nervousness and fear laced in her tone. 

“Y/N, Call doesn’t have a gun, he’s been using weapons of opportunity. The profile points to him not even being armed right now. If anything-” 

“Screw the profile, Spencer!” Y/N’s voice was hysterical now. “You need to where a damn vest, you are an FBI agent, if you get-” 

Y/N’s rant to Spencer was stopped short by the disturbing sight before her. From the SUV the four of them could see an even more distraught Call standing out in the middle of the warehouse parking lot. He held Tommy by the neck, with a gun pointed at his temple. Derek stopped the car and jumped out, his gun wielded as he began to try to talk the man down. 

“Call, drop the weapon and release Tommy, right now!” Derek’s voice loomed large and powerful as Emily, Reid, and Y/N each got out of the vehicle and turned their spots with Morgan. 

“You don’t want to hurt Tommy,” Spencer started. “we know who he is to you, we know that he’s your son, and that you weren’t there for him.” He put his gun away in an attempt to show Call that he was not a threat. Y/N could read the desperation in Spencer’s voice from a mile away. Call, like Spencer’s mom lives with schizophrenia. Spencer and Hotch nearly had it out in the middle of the bullpen after Spencer insinuated that Hotch was implying that Call was only going on this murder spree because of his condition.

“Just let the boy go, Call.” Y/N continued the track that Derek and Spencer started. “Just let your son go. We will make sure that you can get medicine, that’s why you went to the pharmacy, right? You need meds to help yourself and then,-” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Spencer inching closer and closer to Tommy. As if it was a chain reaction, Call drew his weapon and fired towards Spencer. Before she even could realize the consequences of her actions, Y/N tackled Spencer to the ground. The bullet lodged itself into the Kevlar vest she wore. Her side burned as she came to understand what had transpired in the last couple of seconds. 

Spencer scrambled onto his knees and clutched Y/N’s cold hands in his. 

“Spence, I’m okay,” Y/N said as she struggled to sit up straight with Spencer practically laying on top of her. 

“No, Y/N! Don’t do that,” Spencer started with tears flooding the corners of his eyes. The little droplets made his sometimes brown and sometimes green eyes sparkle with sadness. 

Spencer moved his hands from the place where the bullet lodged itself in her Kevlar to grasp her face tenderly. But his movement caused her cheek to be painted with a deep red handprint in the shape of the crying man crouching before her hand.

“Spencer,” she let out a small whimper when she saw the look of horror on his face.  Before he could even ask her why she did what she did, Y/N passed out, her limp, cold hand finding its home in the comfort of soft, warm ones. 

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

The rest of the case passed in a numbing hum for Spencer. Once Y/N got shot by Call he let go of Tommy and Derek shot him the leg. Spencer did not even stay for when Emily and Derek apprehended the unsub. It was like his legs acted of their own accord when the EMT showed up for Y/N and he walked with them never letting go of her hand. 

The ride to the hospital in the back of the ambulance was hectic. The EMTs had to monitor her heart rate, her blood pressure, and her oxygen. Even the temptation of numbers could not capture Spencer’s attention as he mulled over the possible conclusions to why Y/N would take a bullet for him. There was no logical reason for it. Not one. Spencer let the steady rocking of the ambulance to soothe him as he gently rubbed his thumb over Y/N’s hand. Even though he longed to hold her against himself, this would have to do, for now at least. Till then, Spencer forced his mind to focus on the pattern that her beating heart created.

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

Hospitals terrified Spencer. The smell, the sick people, the people who were unsavable. Part of him wonders what his life would be like if he became a medical doctor. As a kid, he had a future where he could do anything he could dream of. Cure schizophrenia on Monday, operate on an inoperable tumor on Tuesday- that’s what his life could have been like. 

But sitting there, in the sterile hospital with the white walls and constant beeping, Spencer’s mind was only thinking of another life he could be out living. In the minutes that he sat with Y/N as she lay in pain in his arm, false memories of a life together painted in his mind. Laughing children, family picnics, couple’s Halloween costumes. He stroked her hair and saw a life so familiar that he could almost taste it. He tasted cookies that they baked together as they danced without a care in the world. He tasted Halloween and Forth of July and all the holidays in between. He tasted butterfly kisses with his children that had her hair and her eyes and her smile. 

He was stripped away from those memories that he didn’t even own. Now all he could taste was the bitterness of regret, the sourness of what if, and the tartness of the nightmares masquerading as reality. 

“Family of Y/L/N,” a surgeon dressed in light blue scrubs walked into the waiting area with an unreadable expression on her face.

JJ and Derek stood up immediately as the doctor went to continue to deliver the news. 

“She’s awake and doing okay,” the doctor said with a relieved expression. 

“Oh that goodness,” JJ said as she hugged Emily in a moment of happiness. 

“She’s a fighter,” Derek quipped, “I’m going to call Garcia, she’s probably a nervous wreck” 

“She’ll make a full recovery, but should avoid air travel because her internal bleeding,” the doctor reported, “also, which one of you is Spencer? Even since she’d been lucid, she’s been asking for you,” she said looking around at the remaining group, with her eyes landing on the man in question. 

“She is?” Spencer questioned carefully. He was worried that maybe she regretted jumping in front of him. 

“Yes, why don’t you come with me. It may make her more comfortable having someone she wants with her” 

Y/N wants him. 

Him. 

Spencer was not sure how he even walked himself down the corridor to where Y/N’s room was located. But sure enough, he was met with her ashen face beaming up at his. 

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, are you okay, I mean, obviously you’re injured so you’re not okay. I don’t mean to invalidate your pain, I just...why, Y/N, why on Earth would you do that?” Spencer finished. His voice was more tender towards the end. He looked down at his friend before him and tried to read the expression that graced her face. 

“Spencer, I did what I had to do. You….you would have died,” Spencer noticed the tears that puddled in her eyes and had to suppress the sudden urge to kiss them away. 

“I’d rather die than live my life in a world without you, Spencer.”

Spencer closed his eyes and sat down on the bed with her. 

“Why?” he asked in a voice that was hardly audible. It can’t be, he thought. Maybe this is just something that a teammate does for another teammate. Comrades in arms or something like that, he thought. Trying to make sense of senselessness. 

“Why do you value my life more than yours? Why-how can you do that” there was not stopping tears in his eyes now. She reached out and held his face, like he held her as she bled out in the warehouse only a couple of hours ago. 

“Spence, my life would be dull and gray without you in it. You’re my best-” She stared as he tensed up at what he knew was coming. She only jumped in front of him because it’s what a teammate does. 

“Please, I can't bear to hear that. I-maybe you only can think of me as a teammate or worse a brother, but part of me. A hopeful and romantic part of me that I can't let go of the thought of you thinking about in a different way,” he was so embarrassed, so raw in the moment that he could not bear to even look her in the eyes. 

“Spencer?” he could only watch the way that their fingers laced together. He focused on the patterns between the itchy hospital blanket. 

“Y/N,” he started and took a deep breath. Spencer had never intended to tell her this. Maybe in moments of drunken bravery he thought about it, but he’d always sober up before his dreams could come to fruition. 

“I’m a logical man, I solve problems for a living but sometimes. Sometimes, I can’t use logic to solve some problems, and there’s no logical reason for you to jump in front of a bullet for me. Unless you love me? And I hope with every fiber of being that you do, because I am so desperately in love with you” 

Spencer allowed himself, for the first in his life, to have once of hope and faith. 

Y/N’s eyes met Spencer’s in an uncharacteristically shy moment. 

“I do, Spence. Of course I love you”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh as he, once again, gently placed his hands on her jaw. He placed a kiss on her forehead. The small, tender affection elicited a whimper from Y/N. Spencer jumped back in horror. 

“Oh, honey did I hurt you? You gotta tell me where it hurts” he murmured in a comforting voice. 

“Hmm, no I’ve just been waiting five years for you to kiss me and you settle on my forehead?” Y/N beamed up at him expectantly. 

“Nowhere do you want me to kiss you, my dear?” Spencer questioned playfully. 

“How about in between everywhere and anywhere you want, Doctor Reid,” Y/N, despite the pain, managed a smile for the man that held her hand so lovingly. 

“How about here?” Spencer leaned forward and kissed the left corner of her mouth. 

“Or here?” The right corner. 

“What about here, I’ve dreamed of kissing you here.” He moved his mouth to meet the place on her neck that met her collarbone. Y/N looked up at Spencer dreamily. One day she might chalk it up to the painkillers flooding through her system, but the pure adoration that melted from Spencer’s lips to her skin was something that never knew she’d crave. 

“And here” 

His lips parted slightly as he moved in to meet hers. The feeling was more divine and earth shattering than when Prometheus gave humans fire. Together, intertwined in bedsheets, IVs, and fingers laced with hair, they lit a fire of their own. Kissing Spencer stopped time. 

It was Y/N who broke first. 

“Spencer,” she said with a new reverence that would only be reserved for him. 

“Yes, sweet girl?” 

“You gotta promise me something,” she said as she raked her hands across his arms, feeling him shudder under her touch. 

“Anything and everything for you” he said, mirroring her earlier words to him. 

“Wear a vest next time”

[suupernovalight]

- Haikyuu Boys Making You Insecure

Includes: Tsukishima, Oikawa, Ushijima, Bokuto

Small Note: uhh- sorry for suddenly disappearing, I had family issues and soon forgot about this acc. Though now I’m starting to make a few stuff as I slowly come back, so here’s some light angst :D

Tsukishima Kei

Trouble with math

You and Tsuki have been together for about a year now

You two first met when you were struggling on a test and he decided to help you… by cheating

He secretly passed you a pen with a paper of all the answers written on it

Ever since that encounter, you two kicked it off and started talking more

Tsukishima even tutored you on the subject you were having the most trouble on

It was math

Currently, school finals were coming up and you had to take a math quiz

Tsuki’s tutoring helped you with your confidence a lot but sometimes, you weren’t to sure about yourself

To gain some extra confidence, you decided to study your ass off

Tsuki also noticed that you were studying a lot more than usual but never mentioned it and went along his day

It was the day of the test and you were sure you were gonna get a good or at least decent score on it

You did horrible

You got a 25% on it

Feeling embarrassed and losing your confidence in yourself, you decided to keep it a secret

However, your boyfriend somehow found out

Now Tsuki loved making snarky comments, no matter the person

That included even you but you would know that he was joking

This comment however, stuck to you

Feeling dejected and depressed about the score you got on your test, you decided to take your mind off of it and go home with Tsuki after school.

You tried your hardest to stay the same usual s/o you always were but Tsuki knew that you were putting up a face.

Once you two got to his house and went to his room, Tsuki decided to ask how your test went.

“It went good,” you lied.

Tsuki raised his eyebrow. “Do you mind if I ask what score you got?”

“I think I left my paper in my locker,” another lie but he didn’t have to know that. “May I use the restroom?”

Nodding his head, Tsukishima watched as you quickly shuffled away out of his room. Just by the look on your face, he knew that something went bad.

Curiosity got the best of him and he decided to check your school bag to see if you had your test. It didn’t take long before he found a crumpled up paper . When he unraveled it, he soon saw the math test… and the score.

Once you came back from the restroom, you walked in on Tsuki looking at your paper. Embarrassment washed over you as you tried to grab it but he raised his arm up so you couldn’t reach.

“Give it back! Please?” You pleaded as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Damn Y/n, after all those tutoring sessions I gave you and the extra time you spent studying, you really wasted your time just to get a 25% on your test,”

Ouch. That hurt.

“Give it back you jerk,” you gritted as you bit your tongue back from crying. However, you could already feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/n, your making me think you are stupid with this score,” tsuki snickered.

He’s joking, he always does.

You fought back the urge to yell and scream at him. Looking at the ground, you avoided his burning gaze. Giving up, you walked to your bag and started to pack up your belongings.

“What are you doing?” He asked but you ignored him.

Once you were done packing up, you walked over to the door of his room but he quickly got up, blocking your way.

“What’s wrong Y/n?” He asked, giving you back your test which you ripped out of his hands.

“Fuck off Tsukishima,” you spat as you finally looked up from the ground with tears welling in your eyes.

Tsukishima’s eyes widened at your sudden anger and tears. He then scoffed and looked away.

“It was just a joke Y/n”

Just a joke. A joke that hurt you.

“Move out of my way. I’m going home,” You said as you watched him move slightly to the side.

“Y/n, come on, don’t leave because of what I said. It was obviously not meant to be taken seriously,” Tsukishima tried to convince but you wouldn’t budge.

“Oh yeah? Well I tried my best on that test,” you started with your fist clenched. “You saw how much I was studying. You KNOW that math isn’t my best subject and it made me self conscious but here you are, making fun of me. Now get the fuck out of my way, Tsukishima.”

Tsuki watched as you pushed him to the side and stormed out of his room and then his house. He was to surprised to even move, much to your dismay.

Tsukishima always joked a lot and even made snarky comments at some times. Though despite his pride, he knew that deep down, he fucked up.

Oikawa Torū

Jealousy, betrayal

He’s a ladies man, what do you expect?

You knew from the moment he asked you out, you would go through the wrath of his fangirls

And you were ready for anything

At the time

You were self conscious about yourself and his fangirls seemed to make it worse

Even Oikawa knew

He would usually console you and tell you that you’re the only one he sees, and you believed him

It wasn’t until one day, you walked in on a fangirl confessing her feelings to your boyfriend

Even worse, the girl does something that Oikawa doesn’t stop, and it made you pissed.

It was after school and you decided to head to the gym because you wanted to see your boyfriend practice. You told him beforehand so he wouldn’t get surprised by your sudden appearance.

However, when you arrived, he was nowhere to be found. Even his teammates were wondering where he was. They just assumed he was with you cause you are his girlfriend.

“He’s not with me,” you confirmed. “I just got out of class,”

“Weird, let’s wait another 5, if he’s not here, you’re gonna find him Y/n,” Iwaizumi informed, making you slightly scoff.

“Why me?” You asked as you put your hand on your hip.

“Uh- you’re his girlfriend?” Iwaizumi trailed off as he saw you sigh.

“Girlfriend, not babysitter,” you mumbled.

Five minutes have passed and your boyfriend was still not at practice. Mentally sighing, you went out on a mission to find him.

You look in the hallways, any open classrooms, and even outside. Still no sign. You’ve probably spent another 5 minutes just trying to find him.

Thinking that he finally arrived at the gym, you decided to return back. He was responsible enough to know that he was late, he was the captain after all.

“I’m sorry I brought you out here,”

The sudden sound of a girls voice made you come to a halt. Looking around, you saw nothing. That was until you looked behind a wall and saw a girl standing right in front of your boyfriend.

“Not another damn confession,” you groaned as you thought about walking away. That was until you heard your boyfriend’s voice.

“No no, it’s okay. Practice can wait,”

Uh- weird.

Now you were invested in the conversation. Oikawa hated skipping practice. Even if someone wanted to confess to him, he wouldn’t go. What made her so different from the rest?

Usually, you wouldn’t care about people confessing to your boyfriend. Whatever makes them sleep at night. It’s been awhile since you’ve felt jealousy and even worry bubble up in you. Even worse, the girl who was confessing knew damn well you were listening. You and her even made eye contact.

“I wanted to confess to you. Ever since I first saw you play volleyball, I was always fascinated by you Oikawa,” The girl bowed as she gave him an envelope with a heart sticker to seal it shut. Pretty cliché.

“Sorry but I have a-“

“Who cares about her,” the girl cut in, making you tense up.

“Excuse me?” Oikawa said, obviously surprised by the sudden change of tone.

“She doesn’t have to know about us Oikawa, don’t worry…” the girl then went closer to Oikawa and he didn’t back away. “You deserve better anyways, someone more… prettier, ”

You felt a pang in your chest. Like your heart has been shattered into little pieces. Your eyes widened as you saw her smirk, her eyes glancing over at you.

Deep down, you knew you weren’t the prettiest of the school. You looked decent but you didn’t care. Oikawa loved you for who you were as a person, though now all of that was crumbled into nothing.

“She won’t even find out, with that dumb little mind of hers,” smirked the girl as she wrapped her arms around Oikawa.

Oikawa froze up. “She won’t know?” He then looked at the ground. “Her looks can use some work…” he mumbled, though the girl heard clear, you didn’t hear a thing.

Your eyes widened even more. Was he actually considering it? Was this considered cheating?

When things couldn’t get any worse, they did for you. The girl leaned in on Oikawa’s cheek, standing on her tippy toes because she wasn’t as tall as him, then kissed him on the cheek.

“Sorry to interrupt,” you sourly said, getting out of your hiding place. “Torū, the team is looking for you, c’mon,”

“R-right!” Oikawa stuttered as he smiled towards the girl. “See you around!”

As the two of you walked away, you kept your eyes away from Oikawa. His smiling demeanor soon disappeared once the girl was out of sight.

“What’s wrong? How much did you hear?”

“I heard enough, thank you,” you spit out as you heard Oikawa sigh.

“I should have known you were the jealous kind of person,”

It was like venom dripped down Oikawa’s tongue as he spoke. Stopping in your tracks, you looked Oikawa dead in the eyes, tears threatening to fall.

“Me being jealous? I have a right Oikawa! She flat out kissed you and you didn’t stop her,”

“It was only on the cheek!” Oikawa argued making you scoff.

“On the cheek or not, nobody else can do that except for me! You’re digging yourself a hole and you can’t climb out,” you said, your tone harsher and louder than before.

“Don’t cause a scene, I have practice,” Oikawa mumbled making you even more mad.

This time, tears did fall down your eyes. Though, you wouldn’t let him see them.

“Oh so now you care about practice? But when that girl was confessing, you said practice can wait?? I’m disappointed in you Oikawa!”

“Then leave,” 

Oikawa started to walk away as you stood still. Your legs didn’t budge. As much as you wanted to chase after him, you couldn’t. You lost him… he lost you.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

For people who talk a lot

You two were opposites

He was quiet

You were quite talkative

Despite your guys differences, you guys never broke apart because of it

Though, you have been thinking some thoughts

Ever since you were young, you’ve always been ignored and neglected

Now that you have someone who will actually listen, you take every opportunity you have to talk your heart out

That was until you overheard a conversation with Ushijima and Tendō talking about no one other than you

You had just got back from the convenience store with your friends. While you returned back to your dorm, you decided that you got to much food.

So, you decided to give some to your wonderful boyfriend, Ushijima. He wouldn’t mind you coming to his dorm this late. Plus, everyone should be at their dorms and not wandering around. Totally not you.

As you headed to Ushijima‘s dorm, you made sure that your snacks weren’t dropping. You really did have a hand full.

Finally, after a lot of walking, you made it. Since your hands were full, you couldn’t knock on the door. So to improvise, you were gonna use your head until… you heard something.

“How are you and Y/n? Things going smoothly?”

The voice sounded like Tendō from what you could hear. You wondered to yourself, why was he there in the first place. Though, that wasn’t the only thing you wondered about.

“Smoothly? Yeah we are. There’s just one thing,” a deep voice rang. You immediately knew that it was Ushijima.

“Oh yeah? What’s wrong?” Tendō replied as his full attention was on his friend.

“Y/n… she’s just, I don’t know,” Ushijima stuttered as he tried to find the right words. “Loud…

…annoying,”

You felt a sharp pain in your chest. Like someone just stabbed you. Frowning to yourself, you looked at the snacks. Did he really think of that about you? Were you really annoying?

Just as you were gonna walk away, the dorm door opened and you were forced to stay.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Asked Ushijima after he opened the door all the way. “How long have you been here?”

You stayed quiet but sighed. Turning around, you shoved the snacks in Ushijima’s arms. Biting your lip, you kept back some tears.

“Do you really think of me like that? Annoying?” You replied as you began to back up.

“Well you can talk a lot and sometimes-“

“Shut up,” you spat out, making Ushijima tense up. “You don’t have to talk behind my back. If I was annoying you, you could have just said it yourself. Y’know, at my face,”

That’s when Tendō walked up to the door to see what was going on. He had no clue you were there. He just thought Ushijima went outside to do whatever.

When Tendō saw your hurt face, that’s when he knew that Ushijima screwed up. Backing up from the door, he minded his own business, even though he was quietly listening.

“Y/n, I’m telling the truth,” Ushijima argued making your run your fingers through your hair out of stress.

“And sometimes, the truth hurts Ushijima! You knew how insecure I was about this. I never got to speak as a kid and now that I have someone to speak to, they even don’t want to hear me,” you said, making sure Ushijima was listening to you.

Ushijima stayed quiet which made you want to yell at him more. Instead though, you turned on your heel and began to walk away.

“Don’t text me, call me, or do anything in that matter,” you harshly said as your figure disappeared.

Once you were gone, Ushijima walked back in his dorm and set down all the snacks. His face then looked at Tendo’s who was also frowning.

“Wait for her to cool down… then speak to her,” was all Tendō said before grabbing the snacks. “Im going back to my dorm, see you tomorrow Wakatoshi,” Tendō then left without another word.

“Bye,” was all Ushijima said before turning his attention back on the snacks.

Bokuto Kōtarō

(For skinner girls)

You and Bokuto have been together for a good 7 months

You two met during class

When he first saw you, something in his mind clicked

As you two began to talk, his feelings for you began to grow

Soon, you found out what type of girl he likes

Plump, curvy woman

You weren’t any of those, you were skinny.

At first, you were insecure of it, but ever since Bokuto came into your life, you knew that it wasn’t a big deal

As long as you were healthy

Though, it wasn’t until one day, you walked in on Akaashi, Bokuto, and Konoha playing truth or dare during lunch

Lunch has started and you told Bokuto that you would be late. It was because you had to run to the library to retrieve a book that would help you with your studies.

You ate lunch with Bokuto, Akaashi, and Konoha. It didn’t bother you at all but sometimes, you would be skeptical of what they talked about. One time, you walked in on Bokuto talking about his childhood and how he hit his head on a brick one time.

Now back to the current situation. You were just walking back from the library and was making your way to the cafeteria.

When you arrived, you saw a bunch of people everywhere. It was more crowded than usual but you didn’t care as much.

So, you tried to get past the people but there were a lot of them so you had some troubles. Now it was becoming a bother.

The closer you got to the table, the louder you heard the boys talk. Apparently, they were playing truth or dare and it was Bokuto’s turn.

“Bokuto… truth or dare?” Asked Konoha.

“Hmm…” Bokuto thought. “Truth!”

Smirking, Konoha titled his head. “What is one thing you don’t like about Y/n,”

Wtf Konoha

After hearing what Konoha asked Bokuto, you were invested of how he would answer.

“Uhm… nothing, I love everything about her!” Bokuto smiled making your heart flutter.

“Then what is one thing you wish y/n has but doesn’t,” Konoha asked, making Bokuto‘s face scrunch up.

Sighing, Bokuto lowered his head. “I wished she had more curves. I wished she wasn’t so skinney,”

“Wow.” You said as you finally got out of the crowd. “I thought you knew better Bo,”

All the boys looked over to you with wide eyes. Especially Bokuto who had guilt wash over him.

“Y/n, we were just playing truth and dare and I got asked-“

“I heard all of it,” you said as your fist clenched up.

That’s when you turned around and quickly walked away. Bokuto looked back at his friends, then ran after you who was already out of the cafeteria.

“Y/n, let’s talk this out,” Bokuto tried saying but you tuned him out.

Turning the corner of the hallway, you came to a sudden halt when you felt Bokuto grab your wrist. Still, you didn’t turn to look at his sorry face.

“Y/n, talk to me,” Bokuto pleaded.

“Talk to you? After you said that shit?” You growled back. “Bokuto, you knew how insecure I was about my body, you even comforted me when I wasn’t feeling the best about it!”

“We were playing truth or dare Y/n, it’s a game baby,” Bokuto frowned but you only scoffed.

“Only a game? Oh yeah, it’s only a game. Bringing up my insecurities and how you wished I was the type of girl you want,” you mocked as you began to walk away but was stopped again.

“Calm down Y/n,”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Bokuto,” you muttered making him let go of you.

“Y/n, please relax. It was a truth and…”

“And what?” You cut in. “You told the truth. I don’t know why you’re trying to defend yourself. You’re obviously in the wrong!”

Bokuto was about to say something when you lifted up your hand to slap his face. However, instead of it hitting him, it stopped right before it, hovering.

His eyes were still on yours. Slowly, you caressed his cheek with tears in your eyes. After doing that, you quickly turned around and ran away from him, fearing to turn around.

As for Bokuto? He stayed still. Even his own eyes were tearing up. He knew he was in the wrong but he just wanted everything to be okay.

“Y/n…” he whispered as he felt the lingering touch of your hand on his cheek.

[atsuwiee]

the reader is niki's makeup artist, and he has a crush on the reader but he doesn't realize it. the reader had just been swapped with jay's makeup artist and he wasn't informed about the swap, so when he sees the reader and jay together cracking jokes/laughing together, it makes him jealous and like grumpy(?) the rest of the members notice it and tease him about being jealous since his crush is obvious just not to him and the reader. you can have some creative freedom/add on your own spin!

isn't it obvious? :: n.rk

genre: fluff, crack (a bit) pairing: idol!nishimura riki x makeup artist!reader

warnings: not proofread, grammatical errors, swearing tel's note: OH WOW THIS IS PRETTY INTERESTING I LIKE THAT BRAIN OF YOURS, ANON. anyways i hope you like this because i did this late at night and it's prolly half crap sorry :/

riki arrived on the shoot along with the other members, they were having some photoshoots for magazine and fashion brands. they all headed to the dressing room to get them ready, riki settled in his usual spot, waiting for you.

he watched you arrived and for a few seconds he could only stare. "good morning riki!" you greeted him with a smile. "good morning" he says with his usual smile when he is around you. you greeted the other members as well when they entered.

"time to get ready!" their manager said and the staff were preparing their make up looks for the set. usually you had already started off doing riki's make up, but this day you had to swap with one of the other make artists.

riki waited for you to go in front of him, but you didn't. instead, another make up artist starts doing his make up and you're there with jay. "ah noona?" riki spoke up. "hm?" she replied to the boy. "why is y/n right over there with jay?" he asks. "we had a swap" the make up artist replies. riki nodded and continued to glance at you and jay.

he always wondered why he caught himself staring, but he isn't complaining- call him weird but he could stare at you all day.

from a distance you could be seen laughing with jay, he was probably cracking those lame dad jokes, but it still managed to make you laugh. "ugh" riki groaned. "something wrong?" the makeup artist asked. "oh uh- nothing..." he says.

riki felt like he was the one supposed to make you laugh, cracking up jokes, telling you funny stories from their dorm, not jay. he wanted to share a laugh with you- he always found your smile amazing.

when they were finished on getting their hair and makeup done, they were off to the shoot. "oh, looking good riki!" you say with your usual kind smile. "thanks, you too- i mean- uh yeah, thank you really" riki said, why was he suddenly stammering, he wasn't like that.

"it's because of jay hyung..." he said under his breath with a groan. "you said something?" you asked since you heard him say something. "w-what? no, i didn't say anything- anyways i'll get going to the shoot- see you there!" he says as he dashes off.

"woah riki you have plenty of good shots!" heeseung complimented as they scrolled through the photos. "tch" riki said and walked away. "he's been acting grumpy... what's up with him?" jungwon asks while the others shrug. "i'll go ask" jay says. "oh i wanna join!" jake said, until the others started tagging along.

they approached the grumpy boy and jay began to ask "hey, something up" he asks. "yeah nothing much" riki lied. "you're lying~" jake said and riki rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"come on you can tell us, it might distract us from our shoot later" jungwon says. "ugh fine, it's because jay uh... jay had y/n as his makeup artist" he said as he lowered his head. "huh? that's it?" heeseung asks for confirmation. "yeah... i wanted y/n to be my makeup artist not jay hyung's" riki said softly.

the members looked at each other, but jake looked like he had a lightbulb idea.

"wait but why do you want y/n?" jake asked as riki just shrugged. "i don't know, it just came to me i wanted y/n as my makeup artist" riki replied. "yah~ tell us the truth~" sunghoon teased. "you like y/n~~" jake teased as well.

"yah! i don't- it doesn't even look like that!" riki said with a groan. "ohoho our riki boy was just jealous~!" sunoo joined in on the teasing as well. "oh come on riki, stop playing dumb! you do like them!" jake said with everyone agreeing.

the manager approached them telling them their break was dones and it was back to work. all of them were walking back to the set when suddenly jay had caught up with riki. "you should've just told me you were jealous~" jay teased. "oh shut up-!" riki raised his voice.

"ni-ki!" he heard you call his name and he was quick to turn to you. "ah i told you not to call me that" riki said while he put his hand on his nape. "ah sorry, i haven't gotten a hang of it-" you say. "anyways, i have to retouch your lipstick a bit. i forgot to do it while you were on break time" you say as you brought the small brush to his lips, gently repainting them.

riki's eyes focused on your face, oh how he liked being this close to you, or how he likes the way you have to tiptoe in order to get to his height. "there! you can go continue now~" you say with a smile. "a-ah! thank you" riki said with a bow.

when riki came back to the members all of them had this weird cheeky grin. "oh come on, what now?" he asked them. "don't lie, we saw the look on your face when y/n got close to you! you like y/n~" sunoo says with a chuckle.

"sunoo is right, stop lying" jungwon chimes in. "oh shut up, please" riki says. "y/n likes me, riki~" "y/n what?!" riki stomped gooing to jay ready to beat him.

"boys come on! we have to finish up this shoot" their manager called. the members laughed at jay and riki with their never-ending teasing. "chill! i was joking" jay said while laughing so hard. "you should've seen the look on your face!" riki rolled his eyes while his hyungs were laughing.

riki kept denying how he felt for you throughout the day, but he just doesn't realize it yet. even if he denied it, isn't it obvious?

[spencersawkward]

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

[imthatchishiyasimp]

HELLOOOOO!!!

I'm freaking out this is my first post, like the first one shot I post and write about AIB and Chishiya.

I really hope you all like it, please please please tell me what you think about it and whatever you want to tell me.

It's long (4444 words), I know, but I hate small things because I get upset. It's very close to the story and it doesn't have lot's of changes, I wanted to try first to write about something I know. In the future I will write more original and new stuff. Also, I wanted to get used to the universe and to the characters first.

HAVE A NICE READ 💚

“THIS WAY TO THE GAME ARENA”

The sign flashes all around the city. I slowly walk towards the Toei Sendagaya block apartment, focused on the cube in my hands. Due to having no electricity, I’ve gotten used to pick random things from stores to entertain myself.

It’s still shocking to feel the city so silent and calm, and at the same time it feels terrifying. One would think that being that people die every day, the streets would be forgiving. You can’t even lower your guard now. Even since the first day, I’ve liked walking around the streets, checking out shops and random apartments. I kinda feel powerful, but it’s something that deep inside I know it’s just fake and limited. And I’m not giving up, but at least I’m going to enjoy now that I can, until ‘they’ decide that I’m not needed around anymore.

The tall complex shines between the bushes and buildings, its lights on every floor lighted on. I place myself a few meters hidden behind the stairs leading to the central lobby. From there, I sit and watch people climb the stairs. A couple of them look pretty scared and lost, showing signs of this being their first game. The rest all look shaken up but used to this. When it looks like no one else will come, I get up and get to the crowd around the phones.

There’s thirteen people waiting and all of them look at me while I pick the phone from the table. When the facial recognition is finished I can see that there’s only a few seconds left for the game to start. Almost didn’t make it. Would have been stupid to die because I was daydreaming.

‘Move aside’ I say to Chishiya, elbowing him after not having a response. He looks at me annoyed and slips off his earphones. He finally moves to let me place my back at the wall and get my hair in a bun.

“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 14 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

It’s so easy to point out who the newcomers are and the ones that are sick of playing. You can also name who’s going to be willing to put themselves first and who’s going to scary run the whole game.

I start rolling the sleeves of my sweatshirt up when a boy with a cap starts talking to some guys. They look lost, but not new to this. Might be the first week here. I eye them from my spot, not saying a thing but listening to the whole exchange.

“Excuse me, do you know what this is?” He asks a black haired boy. Honestly, he looks a mess, like he has just gotten up from bed and hasn't changed in a few days. “I ended up here and I have no idea what’s going on”.

“It’s a game” He answers. At the same time, the blonde man next to him, probably his friend, tells him to stop it. I chuckle and cover it up with a cough, earning myself a glare from both Chishiya and Aguni. I might be prone to get in trouble with people and they won’t be happy if I screw a game up. Better be quiet.

The blonde guy whispers to his friend and I try to pick something up from the conversation. Not get close to the new ones and something else.

“DIFFICULTY: FIVE OF SPADES”

The card flashes on our phones, telling us the kind of game and the level of difficulty. I was so curious about the card when I got to my first game, I didn’t know what it meant and what I was supposed to do with it. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I admire the cleverness behind the rules and the method of the games. It’s the work of both a psycho and a genius.

A sporty girl starts to stretch just after the card shows, so she must know what it means. She’s calm and collected and I bet she’s willing to put all of us on the killing zone before she goes down. We could be friends, I think.

I hear a sigh next to me and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya rolling his eyes. He doesn’t exactly hate physical games, but they sometimes mean having to run or climb and he’s not a fan of working out. And, even though he won’t admit it, he doesn’t like having his white hoodie dirty. Not going to judge, I don’t love spades games either, but I will choose them over the hearts ones a million times.

I get down to tie my shoes tighter just in case. I would hate tripping like the clown I really am in front of all these people. Some guy in a hat starts explaining to the two friends from before what it means a spades game. Club games are hard if there are more newcomers than experienced people. I mean, if it's a game where team work means everything, you bet you prefer working with someone who knows the way around the games. Diamond ones are a bit weird: being clever will get you through them, but sometimes the answer is so straightforward that you get lost looking for the catch. Heart games are the worst. They will kill you even if you survive, and pray that you don’t get to play with a friend or someone you know.

“GAME: A GAME OF TAG.”

“RULE: RUN AWAY FROM THE TAGGER.”

“CLEAR CONDITION: DISCOVER THE SAFEZONE HIDDEN IN ONE OF THE BUILDING ROOMS WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN THIS OBJECTIVE IS FULFILLED.”

“TIME LIMIT: 20 MINUTES.”

“AFTER 20 MINUTES HAS PASSED, THE TIME BOMB HIDDEN IN THE BUILDING WILL EXPLODE.”

I turn around to face Chishiya, grinning like a mad girl. He doesn’t even flinch when he stops me from talking. “No, I’m not racing you to the top.”

“But…” I sigh and watch as everyone starts running to the stairs like lost puppies. “You are so mean”. I punch him in the shoulder and cross my arms, walking towards the lift. No need running seven floors up and wasting energy if I’m not even going to be able to brag about having won a race.

Chishiya follows closely behind, probably guessing I’m going to try and leave him there.

“TWO MINUTES BEFORE THE GAME STARTS.”

We get inside the lift and silently wait until we get to the seventh floor. It’s been a long time since I used one, not everyday you get to play in a building apartment. Feels nice, and like we’re back to normal.

Once we get to the top, we both choose a position that lets us have a good look at the whole complex. He goes to one wing while I leave for the other one. No point leaving a flank unseen. I take my cube out and restart it, keeping an eye on the people looking around scattered through the floors. I don’t get why someone would choose saying in the lower ground when a tagger is supposed to chase you through the whole building. Dude, that’s the most critical place to start.

“Hey, don’t get distracted with those games of yours.”

“Don’t be mean, Chishiya. You know I’m paying attention.” Anyway, once I finish the cube, I keep it in my pocket and rest my arms on the banister.

Aguni and his new friend get to the seventh floor and both of us wave towards him. Like always, he completely ignores us and keeps walking towards another high point.

“That’s nasty” Chishiya says and I nod along. Aguni is always so serious during games, it’s boring.

“I place my bet on those two guys and the sporty girl surviving”. I firmly say. They look like they will make it, but not without having a rough time.

He has the audacity to snort and laugh at me and I look at him surprised. “You’re joking. Everyone looks like they’re about to die, as usual. Just look at them, they don’t know shit about what to do”.

“Were you this calm in your first games? Don’t be mean, they are trying their best. No one wants to die.”

“But, where you that stupid?” He says while pointing to a couple of girls on the second floor who are touching their phones desperately. “I’m not saying you gotta be a genius from the start, but if you don’t collect yourself quickly, you are already dead.”

“Well, my majesty, not all of us are like you, and some people need a little more time, and a little more help.”

Chishiya looks at me and, as if I had imagined, a caring and sorry look crosses his eyes. He probably remembers the first time he saw me get through the games and how I completely lost it once. It wasn’t easy.

“THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

He nudges my arm with his elbow and I look at him.

“THE TIME LIMIT IS 20 MINUTES.”

“Hey” He says with a soft voice.

“GAME START.”

“Don’t die this time.”

“Wasn't planning to.”

“THE TAGGER IS NOW ON THE MOVE.”

As if we all had planned it, the whole complex goes silent, trying to locate this said tagger. A trumpet goes off and everyone looks scared, ready to bolt to wherever they can.

The sound of the lift’s doors can be heard from our position, so the tagger is probably on the sixth or fifth floor.

Not a penny drop can be heard. Not a breath.

Some people start walking and try to open doors. The rest are all watching closely until something happens.

And it does.

Gunshots run through the dense air that surrounds us. I try to see where they come from and I finally catch sight of the tagger. Probably a man, judging for the height, with a horse head and a really mean gun. He’s on the sixth floor, just in front of the stairs.

I point at him and nudge Chishiya, but I already know that he has seen him.

There’s now thirteen of us.

And then shots are fired again and we can see the two friends and the one with the hat running down the stairs, away from the tagger.

“Told you, they are gonna get killed.” Chishiya says with a smirk.

“Oh shut up, this is not a TV show we are talking about. And I have faith in them”.

They split up on the third floor, the hat man keeps going down while the other two try to hide in the hallway. Not long after, on the ground floor that the tagger chases and shots the first one and finds another man freaking out. I don’t know if it’s better that he died because he went off the game zone instead of being shot by the tagger. Anyway, he’s also dead. And that makes three dead players.

Eleven participants left.

“See, they are smart. At least the cute one”. I say smiling.

Chishiya looks at me and raises an eyebrow, silently questioning just what I said.

“What? It’s not like I’m lying; he is cute, and smart.” I laugh and wink at him, cutting eye contact with him. If we are going to have an awkward moment, please don’t be while we are playing for our lives.

The killing spree of the tagger continues with the pretty and lost two girls. They sure are on their first game, because they look so freaking scared and unprepared. I mean, who would have come with heels and handbags. I scoff and shake my head watching how one of them falls dead and the other one wastes an incredible opportunity of getting away while the tagger reloads. Well, not all of us are strong enough to leave our friend and not panic at the same time. Shame she has to die, anyway.

So now we are nine players still alive.

Looks like everything’s gone silent again, until shouts break the silence and we all look for the source. It’s the cute guy and I laugh when I understand what he’s saying.

“Everyone! The tagger is currently at the second level of the central area! The tagger has bad vision because of his mask! Let’s inform each other of the tagger’s location and search for the safezone together!”

“Oh my god, did he seriously turn a spades game into a club’s one?” I laugh again and Chishiya scoffs under his hood. “I want to be best friends with him”.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chishiya says. We move a bit to see where they are going now that they are all running. “It’s a good idea, not going to lie, but no one will answer him.”

He mutters something else, but I don’t really catch it. I think I saw the tagger doubt his step when he heard the guy shouting, but he definitely looks annoyed when the sporty girl shouts back.

“The tagger is moving from the fourth level of the central area! Anyone nearby, run!”

I celebrate and raise my hands, clapping and laughing in Chishiya’s face. He looks surprised and tells me to shut it.

The girl runs from the tagger and finds an elderly woman in the hallway. With the tagger on their back, they are probably going to get killed. I grip the banister and hold my breath. She seems friendly and clever, I’m internally rooting for her.

Suddenly she jumps off the balcony and starts climbing the pipes up to the next floor. The other woman dies behind her, and the tagger tries to catch the girl but fails.

“She’s pretty good.” Chishiya mutters. “You just wish you could do that. It’s called envy”.

“As if you could do that too. You are just as weak as me.”

“Hey! Don’t throw me in the same casket!”

“EIGHT MINUTES UNTIL THE GAME ENDS.”

“THERE ARE CURRENTLY EIGHT SURVIVORS.”

Already? We should start moving.

I look at Chishiya under my hair and he frowns at something. I follow his gaze and see the tagger looking at the cap boy from an upside floor. What’s shocking it’s him starting to shoot from there. He has been killing just people he casually finds while walking around, not shooting from that distance.

The boy goes down, but looks unharmed. The two friends are on the same floor and get to him, running away from the door he was trying to open.

Not bothering to ask Chishiya if he got that, I start jumping on the place and keep my phone in my pockets. He slides off the hood and shoves me towards the stairs.

“Shall we, ma’am?”

“THERE ARE FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.”

From the corner of my eye I catch Aguni intercepting the boys and I make a face. It doesn’t always go well when he does that, he tends to let them die in order to have his way. The sporty girl stops to talk to them and she starts jumping from floor to floor.

“Do you think someone’s going to get it too?” I ask out loud. Chishiya shrugs and keeps on walking. I tsk and stay behind him when we get to the hallway. I turn around and watch my back, even though I heard a fight somewhere near. Probably Aguni, who are we kidding.

Just when we are arriving at the safezone apartment, the cute boy appears from the other side.

“Cute boy! I’m glad you realized it!” I happily say without thinking. I mouth a silent sorry when he looks at me a bit perplexed. Chishiya elbows me, hard, and I whine a bit. That’s mean.

He picks the doorknob first, but doesn’t open it. The three of us are watching closely, and honestly I’m a bit nervous about the time. I don’t like risking it as much as Chishiya.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asks.

The boy answers a couple of seconds after, lost in his thoughts “Why did the tagger chase us? He could have just waited here.”

He is onto something. Now, I’m not liking this at all.

“Seems like there’s something else we don’t know.” Chishiya says, keeping his calm exterior. He’s going to use this poor boy in case he has any doubt of a risk. “However,” he adds, taking his phone out “if you don’t open it…”

There are three minutes left.

Sweat starts running down my back, making me shiver and hold my breath while I watch the boy start turning the doorknob. All our phones beep announcing the time left until we all die with the bomb.

Slowly, he opens the door with caution. We all walk inside, in silence and with darkness surrounding us. It 's empty. No furniture, neither personal objects nor some leftovers of someone’s life. A few steps in we notice a door at the end of the room and we all walk towards it.

It’s not until we are too far inside that another tagger walks out behind the door.

“Look out!” the boy screams and pushes us out of the shot range.

Gunshots fly around the apartment and I duck behind the bathroom door. Chishiya uses the taser and the tagger goes down, but recovers quickly and starts shooting again. I scream when a bullet gazes at my arm. It fucking hurts, but at least the bullet didn’t got me completely.

I can hear the apartment door being shut and the other door at the end closing too. They must have gotten through them. I hope they aren’t harmed.

I wait, trying not to make any sound in case the tagger comes to finish me off. I search through the room, but nothing seems lethal enough to use like a weapon. I hate bringing weapons to games, I don’t really want to kill anyone if I can help it.

Gunshots are fired and I cover myself up, even though they are not directed towards me. Fighting blade weapons? I’m okay with that. Fighting people? Not against it. But, I have nothing towards a gun. I mean, it can take me from a long distance! No point.

“Everyone! The safezone is in apartment 406! It’s impossible to clear the game alone! We need two people to do this!”

Are you kidding? This is so mean. What if you were the only survivor? Not fair, not at all.

Well, it seems like I should get moving and try to do something useful in this game. I haven’t done shit, now that I think about it.

Slowly, I open the door just in time to see the tagger shoot the door and break the safelock. I take small steps following it, ready to throw myself to placate it. Just when the gun is going up I jump and kick the tagger in the knee, managing to bring it to the floor.

I hear a scream coming from the tagger and a lady cursing from behind the mask. She starts shooting and I scream trying to cover myself without being hit. The guy bolts and tries to help me get her off the gun, but she keeps fighting like a mad person.

We both go down before she gets us with the bullets and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya at the door, trying to help but having to cover himself because of the lost shots.

The phones all inform us of the ten seconds remaining at the same time that the sporty girl jumps through the glass of the balcony. The tagger kicks me and gets the gun pointing at my face and I panic just a bit before I push back. The other guy tries to help me, but with no help.

“Hey!” Chishiya shouts.

I’m on the floor fighting the tagger with the gun under my chin, trying to get it off my face, but I see him throwing the taser to the girl and she quickly gets the tagger down.

I let out a sigh before I heard the time almost coming to an end. My eyes search for him and we lock our gazes. I can feel the breath we are both holding and the silent words running through our minds. My fingers clench and I swallow, accepting death like a forgotten friend, saying goodbye with a blink.

But, just like that, with a blink, it all finishes. The buttons are pressed on the last second and we all hear the beeps from our phones.

“GAME CLEAR.”

“CONGRATULATIONS.”

In that same moment, the tagger gets the mask off and we can see an old lady crying looking at us. The collar in her neck starts beeping faster and faster and I scramble to get away from her. Chishiya grabs both my arms and I scream at the touch in the bullet gaze from before, but he doesn’t let go and gets me away at the same time that the collar explodes, killing the lady.

My whole back is covered in blood and I roughly grab Chishiya’s hoodie. I don’t want to look at her and see what we did, even though it was unintended. She was also playing, and she died because we won.

Chishiya and I are left in the room with the dead tagger, and he grips my hand and makes me let go of him. He starts checking the pockets of the lady and gets something out, but I don’t register exactly what.

I get out of the apartment to breathe. I hate this part where we really think about what went down here. Lots of people died, and we got a few days to live just to have to risk it again in the next game. Could have we saved someone? Not really, I know that. But it doesn’t make it easier anyway.

“I’m Arisu.” Someone says beside me. I turn and the cute boy is there, watching me from a distance. “I wanted to thank you, for risking yourself back there. We are alive thanks to all of you.” He sticks out his hand to me and waits.

I’m speechless. No one has thanked me like this in any game. I didn’t really do a thing, but he’s thanking me. I should be the one doing it, he cooperated with the other girl and they stopped the bomb. We could have died there.

I let out a small laugh and shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arisu. And thanks to you, you did the dirty work inside the room.”

I look back inside and watch Chishiya stick the paper in his hoodie and walk towards us.

“I look forward to meeting you somewhere else, hopefully not dead in a game. Be careful and enjoy the warm water in the ocean now that we are all alone in the city.”

With a wink, I walk out of the apartment building with Chishiya not too far behind. I think he heard me talking to Arisu, but he doesn’t comment on it.

We walk, and we walk, and we walk. Neither of us likes to go back to the Beach in the cars, so we always take a stroll through the streets, enjoying the silence and the stars shining above us.

���Does it hurt?” he asks.

“Mmh?” I look at him questioning and he nods to my bleeding arm. “Oh, yes, like a bitch. But I’ll have to wait until we get there.”

He tsks and grabs my arm, leading us to a pharmacy around the corner. I don’t say anything, knowing he will shut me up and will only be a waste of time. We get inside and he starts looking for some disinfectant and bandages.

He knows his stuff. I was surprised at first to discover he knows his way around the medical grounds; and I’m glad he does. It doesn't hurt having someone nearby capable of dealing with nasty wounds.

He silently works and I watch him closely. He’s handsome. And he knows it, that’s why he smirks feeling my gaze on his face. I trace his features taking my time. His eyes are the most scary thing I’ve ever met. They hold so much knowledge and feelings. I always feel like he could take me apart just with his eyes. He mostly covers his emotions, so even though you search for micro expressions, you will come empty handed almost always.

I bring my free hand up and run my fingers through his hair. I love it, it’s so smooth and soft. And the fact that he always wears white to match his hair makes me smile like an idiot.

Chishiya clears his throat and starts covering up the wound. My hand drops and rests in his arm, basking in the heat he’s making.

Once he’s done, he brings down my sleeves and looks me in the eye, silently checking if I’m okay. I nod and take his hand, quickly gripping and, just as fast, letting go. I can hear him sigh behind me, and he follows behind.

“You know, I’m glad I met you here, but I would have prefered meeting you in the real world.”

“Why?”

“Because I know I will be safer here with you, but I also know the probability of us having a happy ending is minimal while we are here.”

“You are not wrong.” A couple of minutes goes by until he adds: “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try and make the most of it while you are alive. It will hurt more, but at this point, who cares?”

I let out a breathy laugh and turn around to hug him. Hard. He stops and lets me hug him, finally giving in and hugging me back. I hide my face in his neck, breathing deep and closing my eyes. I can feel his pulse and his chin coming down on my head, his hand running through my back.

“You are an idiot.”

“And you are mean. Deal with it.”

I swear I can feel his lips kissing the top of my head, but it’s so fast I can’t be sure. He starts walking again and I run to catch him before I lose him.

We may have a complicated relationship, if you can call it that. We are there for each other, not sure of what to do, what to give, what to take. But we do not give up. I’m just glad I’m not alone, and thankful that I have someone looking out for me.

I smile all the way to the Beach.

[yourmcu]

Body Pillow

 Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary:

Natasha finds you cuddling a body pillow. In your dream, it’s actually her you’re cuddling. It’s Christmas Eve too.

Word count: 1,600

A/n: I’m takin a long time to post but I’ll get em out soon! I hope! thanks for 200 followers btw :))

Warnings: fluff, sleep talking

It’s not a surprise to anyone in the compound when they find you sprawled on your favorite sofa in the lounge. Of course you had a room, but you just love it so much that you’d rather sleep there most of the time. Especially after or before your favorite holidays.

Bidding Sam and Bucky good night as they're the last ones to turn in, you ask Friday to dim the lights and to turn on a Netflix show. If you’re ever wondering why no one stays with you for a movie night or something it’s because you’ve had too many already, and most of the time you don’t mind being alone anyway.

After two or three shows, you finally fall asleep.

Few hours later, Natasha walks across the lounge to get to the kitchen, not all that fazed when she sees a lump shaped like you on the sofa. Though she stops in her tracks when she hears a faint voice coming from your direction.

“Nat,”

She decides that she’s just hearing things, or you probably saw her come in then drifted back to sleep.

When she’s about to return to her room, you speak again.

“Nat,”

She decides to reply this time. “Yeah?”

You don’t respond back immediately. So just in case, she walks up to the sofa to see if something's wrong.

Your hands are wrapped around the side of the body pillow and it's slightly bigger than you. The whole blanket is wrapped around you as well, so Natasha could only imagine how comfortable you are in your sleep.

“You give the best hugs, Nat,” you murmur, still fully asleep, oblivious of the same redhead witnessing it in real life too.

Everyone knows you’ve developed a lil something for Natasha. Does she know? Yes... and no. She refuses to believe you like her that way. If you do, she wants to hear it from you, not from the testosterone of the team.

But seeing you so adorably vulnerable and cute, in a way, it makes her heart flutter.

“I do, huh?” Natasha chuckles from above you and leans down to kiss your hair. “Too bad you’re gonna have to get up soon.”

“Aww, no,” you whine, snuggling closer to the crook of her neck.

Natasha just stands there and tries to process it - you, her teammate and close friend, is dreaming about her. It’s normal, right? Even she has dreamt of the others, including a weird one where Tony and Bruce were riding unicorns-

She flinches when you make a movement, but you just make yourself more comfortable on the pillow, sighing contentedly.

Obviously she’s giving you a good time in your head. Natasha believes she could do better though. If you ever ask her to cuddle, she’d make sure. Am I really jealous of myself right now?

The opening and closing of bedroom doors shake her from her thoughts. She clears her throat and walks back to the kitchen to wait for Wanda so they could make breakfast together. It the day before Christmas, after all, everything has to be special today and the next day.

Wanda enters the kitchen moments later, still a bit groggy from her slumber but she’s in a mood to make a good breakfast. As the pair gets started, they hear a yelp that sounded like yours from the lounge.

“Ow! Tony!”

“Wakey wakey,” Tony teases, defending himself from your playful punches. “For gosh sake, you need to stop having sleepovers by yourself here - you sure you don’t want that sofa in your room?”

You grumble and walk out of the room to get dressed, taking your blanket and body pillow with you.

The lounge and kitchen starts to get occupied by the inhabitants of the compound. One of them being you, out of your pajamas and in a casual Christmas sweater. You greet them with the usual good mornings including Natasha.

“Good morning,” she drawls out. “Sleep well?”

She's curious on how you’d react. But of course you don’t think much of it, you don’t know that she knows what you dreamt about.

“Yeah, it was... nice,” you try to play it cool, avoiding her eyes to pour yourself a glass of eggnog. I mean, look who’s asking. And the fact that she was just about to kiss you in the dream before Tony so rudely interrupted-

“Bet it was,” Natasha smirks after Steve grabs your attention to point out your favorite comic strip on the newspaper, thinking you didn’t hear her.

You chuckle at the Christmas-themed edition of the comic but your gaze returns to Natasha not long after because you did hear her. Maybe she was just being Nat but yeah, the dream was nice. Too nice to be real. You sigh and sip on your drink, getting lost in your own world as Tony loudly rambles about a party to the group.

It was just you and her, so many blankets, watching movies. You don’t know or remember what film specifically, everything was a blur except the way she held you.

As a kid you never got that much affection physically, so every hug from your friends means a lot to you. Well, especially the ones from Natasha.

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit how you feel for her. The men constantly tell you to do it, that it wouldn’t hurt to try, but you’d rather have a close and friendly relationship with Natasha rather than an awkward one just because she didn’t feel the same about you.

The thing is, you don’t know if she shares those kinds of feelings. That’s what Bruce was nagging to you about. ‘You won’t know until you try, until you tell her-

“Y/N, you with us?”

Your hand involuntary twitches as you snap back to the room. “Sorry, yeah. What’s up?”

“Well, instead of a usual party, we’re gonna have a movie night,” Tony says, stealing a piece of food from your plate. “Thoughts?”

You sent him a look but chuckle, “haven’t we already had enough of those?”

“But it’s Christmas!” Tony insists. “And we’re watching Die Hard.”

Steve frowns. “That doesn’t sound like a Christmas movie.”

-----

“Alright Cap, it may not sound like a Christmas movie to you but it’s one of the best.” Sam jokes and plays the movie once all of you have settled.

The theater room is dim and composed of two large sofas, one in front and one just behind it, and a table filled with food. You're one of those who occupied the second sofa behind along with Clint, Wanda, Vision and Natasha. The rest fought for a place up front, which took a while to be honest.

“Hey Nat,” you mutter, eyes not leaving the screen but you do see her from the corner of your eye claim the spot beside you, the one at the edge of the sofa. She gives you a warm smile and makes herself comfortable.

An hour into the movie only the men seated at the front are fascinated by the fighting scenes. Well except for Clint who's seated at the other end, pointing and asking Sam questions about the plot. Wanda and Vision are half asleep leaning on each other, you and Natasha are the only ones calmly watching, probably because you’ve both seen it many times.

You make a sound when Hans Gruber appears on screen again. “Did you know that’s the same guy who played Professor Snape?”

“What?” Natasha chuckles.

“From Harry Potter,” you reply, smiling to yourself. Then you turn to her, “have you watched any of those movies?”

“I’ve heard of it but, no.”

You tilt your head at her, slightly surprised. “You should watch them with me sometime. I prefer the original source material but the films are good on their own.”

You wish you could photograph the way Natasha smiles at you. She’s all smiles today. I wonder why. “I’d love that.”

A loud explosion echoes throughout the room along with yells that sounds like Tony’s and Clint’s, making you yelp and scoot closer to Natasha. She wraps an arm around you instinctively.

“Guys, turn the volume down,” she calls out. Silent chatter fills the room once it turns into a more calmer scene, and Tony told Friday to lower the volume. “You okay?” 

Her arm is still wrapped around you and you want nothing more than to hide yourself in the pillow you’re hugging out of embarrassment. “Yeah... m’good,” you manage to say while holding a yawn. Natasha tugs the blanket more snugly over both of you.

“You can sleep if you want,” she speaks softly. “I think they’re planning on watching all the Die Hard movies until dawn.”

“That’s crazy,” you breathe out. Your eyes are starting to droop and your yawns became frequent. 

You know that cozy feeling when the room’s cold and you have a warm blanket over you? That’s one of your favorite things (the other one being Natasha).

There are only four of you left on the back sofa since Clint moved to the front. At this point your head rests on Natasha’s chest while she plays with your hair, and one of your arms loosely wraps around her waist. You exhale, falling asleep entirely.

Natasha admires how adorable you slept on her. “I hope this is better than your dream,” she murmurs, gently planting a kiss on your forehead and getting drowsy herself.

You snuggle closer to her, as if it was to say, it is.