#would he do it in a normal way? no. would he announce really dramatically in front of everyone that he wants to start courting chip? yes

[wings-of-flying]

y'all fncers are kidding yourselves if you think there's any universe in which chip makes the first move. no shot. no way. the guy who represses his emotions? bullshit. whereas gillion 'you upset me so let's duel about it' tidestrider? come on. it just makes sense

[eclipixels]

Casual

Character: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage

Content: "Casual relationship with the boys but it’s just you getting ahead of yourself and planning to talk to them about getting serious until you saw a headline about 'your' man going official with another lady." - @captainshindo

     Yoichi Isagi

      You weren’t the jealous type. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

      Isagi Yoichi was never officially yours, not in the way that mattered. Sure, he kissed you like you were the only person in the world, pulled you into his arms like he had no intention of letting go, and whispered things at night that made your stomach flip. But there had never been a label.

      It was fine. You were fine. Until you saw the headline.

      "Blue Lock’s Rising Star Isagi Yoichi Goes Official With Mystery Beauty!"

      Your stomach dropped. The article featured blurry paparazzi shots of him with some woman—her face obscured, but her hand was clearly clutching his wrist. You read every line, dissecting every word like it held the key to your survival of your heart. The journalist speculated, fans freaked out, and suddenly, it felt like the whole world was deciding where Isagi’s heart belonged.

      Except, no one had asked you.

      You slammed your phone down, anger bubbling up, not just at him but at yourself. You had been ready, so ready, to have the talk, to define what this thing between you really was. But now? What was the point?

      When Isagi came home later, he immediately noticed something was off.

      "You’re mad at me."

      "Really?” You scoffed.

      "Yeah, you are." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Is this about the article? I have no idea who that woman even was, I’m pretty sure it was a fan."

      Your eyes snapped to him. He looked guilty. Good.

      "Why would I care?" you asked, voice tight. "We’re not dating, right? I mean, not really. So why should I care?"

      His heart cracked when you said that. Did this mean nothing to you? Truth be told, he was planning to talk to you soon about your relationship. He wanted to be yours officially, now he feels dumb for not doing it sooner. Because now, his baby’s heart was broken and he didn’t know how to fix it.

      "Come on, you know that’s not—"

      "Not what? Not true?"

      And it wasn’t like he could just announce to the world that he was taken. Right? But still, he could’ve done something. At least that's what you told yourself.

      Isagi sat in bed that night, phone in hand, searching for ways to subtly (or not-so-subtly) let people know he was taken.

      What he found was… questionable.

      “Give her your hoodie, post her on your story, make it obvious.”

      Okay. Normal enough. What else, though? He wanted to do something more than that.

      “Hickeys are the ultimate mark of possession.”

      His face burned. He thought about it for half a second, then realized they were temporary. That wasn’t enough.

      And then he saw it.

      A tattoo. Permanent. Undeniable. Forever.

      It was impulsive, but so was he.

      Isagi came home, a slight wince on his face as he rolled his shoulder as he began experiencing the weak symptoms of a tattoo flu.

      "Hey."

      You barely looked up from your phone.

      He hovered for a second, then sighed dramatically. "You’re still mad."

      Silence.

      "Okay, well, can you at least look at me?"

      With an exaggerated eye-roll, you glanced up and immediately did a double take.

      "What the hell is that?" you asked, pointing at the fresh ink on the side of his neck.

      Bold, black letters. Your name. Right there for the world to see.

      "A tattoo," he said casually, like he hadn’t just done the most insane thing in history.

      Your mouth opened. Then closed. "No, yeah, I can see that. Why?"

      Isagi scratched the back of his head, suddenly sheepish. "Well, I wanted people to know I’m taken."

      "That’s the way you went about it?"

      "Yeah, but this way, they can’t argue about it." He grinned, a little too pleased with himself.

      “Check my socials” He said with a smug expression. You gave him a puzzled but cautious look as you slowly opened your social media.

      He posted you. Not just that, he put your name in his bio with a heart emoji.

      You blinked. Slowly.

      "You’re insane."

      "Maybe." He stepped closer, tilting his head with a smirk. "But now you can’t say I’m not serious."

      “That is a good picture of us,” You hummed, squealing on the inside at the gesture. He really did that.

      “Match bios with me before it looks like I’m embarrassing myself.” He said sternly and you laughed, your eyes falling past from his lips to the fresh tattoo on his neck.

      “That’s permanent”

      “So is this,” He smiled slyly, pulling you in for a kiss.

      Damn him. Damn him and his stupid, reckless, insanely hot commitment.

      You exhaled, shaking your head. "You’re lucky I love you, Isagi Yoichi."

      That was the first time you said those words to him. I love you.

      "I know. I love you too.” He grinned. Yeah, and so does the whole world know now too.

     Meguru Bachira

      You weren’t the type to rush into things.

      Or at least, that’s what you told yourself when you first started seeing Bachira Meguru. It had been casual, fun, and effortless. The kind of relationship where dates blurred into late-night calls, where teasing turned into lingering touches, and where stolen kisses didn’t come with strings attached. You liked him. A lot. Maybe too much.

      That was the problem.

      You told yourself it was just fun. That the way he’d tug you close after a match, sweat still dripping from his bangs, meant nothing. The way he sent you voice notes about the most random things, like how the vending machine near his training center always stole his coins. It wasn’t anything special.

      But you wanted more. And after weeks of convincing yourself it wasn’t just one-sided, you’d decided it was time to have the conversation. The ‘what are we?’ talk. The ‘I think I want to be with you officially’ talk.

      You had it all planned out. You’d meet him after practice, maybe go for a walk, maybe grab something to eat. You’d be subtle about it, ease into it the way you always did with him. No pressure. No big declarations.

      Then, fate decided to punch you in the gut.

      Your phone screen lit up with a notification, the kind you usually ignored. But the name caught your eye. Bachira Meguru.

      It wasn’t a text. It wasn’t even a message from him. It was a headline. A big, bold, soul-crushing headline plastered across a sports gossip site.

      “Blue Lock Star Bachira Meguru Goes Official with Rising Model Hana Yoshida!”

      The article was filled with pictures, ones you’d never seen before. Bachira with his arm draped over her shoulders, grinning like he had no worries in the world. Her hand playfully on his chest. Them standing too close, their body language screaming intimacy.

      You stared at your phone, the weight of your own naivety sinking in.

      Had he ever mentioned her? No.

      Had he ever given you any reason to believe it was just you? Also no.

      You had assumed. And that was your mistake.

      The realization was sobering. The night before, he had sent you a voice note about his latest match, his usual excited rambling filling your ears. It felt normal. Easy. Safe. But now, the words rang hollow in your memory, like they belonged to a different story altogether.

      You inhaled sharply and forced a laugh, the sound bitter in your own ears.

      Wasn’t this a blessing in disguise? If you had spoken to him any sooner, you would’ve made a fool of yourself.

      Dodged a bullet. Saved yourself from embarrassment.

      You locked your phone and tossed it onto the couch, letting out a long breath. Maybe it was time to let go of the idea of ‘what could’ve been’ and accept what was staring you in the face.

      Bachira Meguru was never yours to begin with.

      You had ignored his calls. His texts. His voice notes. Bachira was starting to panic. Had he done something wrong? Had he messed up what you two had, without even realizing it?

      The overwhelming feelings he had for you were impossible to express, no matter how hard he tried. He never quite knew the right words, but he knew this. He couldn’t lose you. After years of isolation, of feeling like no one truly understood him, you had come into his life. You got him. And now, the thought of that slipping away, of you slipping away, was unbearable.

      So, in the dead of night, with anxiety clawing at his chest, Bachira showed up at your door. A bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand, a bag of your favorite snacks in the other, and an apology for whatever the hell it was he had done to make you pull away. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for, but he knew he couldn’t stand this silence between you two any longer.

      When he stood there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, the words he blurted out took you by surprise, and all the anger you had been holding onto melted away in an instant.

      “Are you breaking up with me or something? What did I do?”

      You blinked, taken aback. “Meguru, you really don’t know? You didn’t see the articles and— wait, you thought we’re together?”

      “Well, yeah," he said, frowning, his eyes wide with confusion. "I’m your boyfriend, right? Or did… Oh no, did I assume wrong?” He looked at you in a mix of worry and uncertainty, and something in your chest tightened. He looked so lost, so vulnerable, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

      “No, no, it’s not that,” you said quickly, trying to explain. “I just saw you with that model, and I thought—”

      “It was for a commercial for Chris Prince’s brand,” he interrupted, his expression softening slightly. “Wait… people are thinking it’s more than that?”

      “The article says it’s official,” you said, biting your lip, unsure how to explain the confusion that had swept over you.

      He froze, processing what you said, then his face shifted to a mix of disbelief and determination. “The hell? No, no way. I’m fixing that. But first,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours, “I need to fix this.” The cool night air swirled around him, his features glowing in the soft light, giving him an almost ethereal quality.

      You blinked, momentarily speechless.

      He stepped closer, leaning in as he looked into your eyes with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. “We are together. Yes?”

      You felt your heart race. “Okay,” you answered, the tension in your body easing with the words.

      Without another word, Bachira leaned in and kissed you. Soft, sweet, but with a warmth that melted away any remaining uncertainty. When he pulled back, he glanced up at you with a shy grin.

      “Good. Can I, uh, come in?”

      You blinked again stunned from the kiss before quickly stepping aside. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, come in!”

     Hyoma Chigiri

      Chigiri was great—amazing, even. Every moment spent with him was effortless. The two of you didn’t define things; it was simple. Casual. Late night skin care dates, movies, shopping, boba. No pressure, no expectations. Or so you thought. But somewhere between laughing over late-night games and the quiet mornings at his apartment, you’d started to wish for more. You didn’t just want him in your life—you wanted him. And not just as a casual companion, but as someone who would be there in the long run. So, you had decided to talk to him about taking things a step further.

      You reread your draft one more time.

      “Hey, Hyoma. I know we’ve been having a lot of fun, but... I’ve been thinking a lot about us. I think I’m ready for something more serious. What do you think?”

      You bit your lip, ready to send it, but then the familiar buzz of a notification caught your attention. A headline. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

      “Hyoma Chigiri Goes Official with Miku Takeda”

      Your breath caught. The picture accompanying the article was of Chigiri, smiling brightly beside a woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a radiant expression. She looked happy. And he was happy, too. You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the wave of disappointment, but it was too much. The words blurred before your eyes as a dull ache settled deep in your chest.

      You blinked rapidly, trying to piece everything together. You two hadn’t exactly made anything official, sure, but... hadn’t the connection felt special? You had been special, hadn’t you? There had been nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, mornings where you stayed in bed a little too long, stealing kisses between sleepy grins.

      A dark thought crept in, taunting you, Was he even serious about me?

      Without thinking, you grabbed your things, leaving the coffee shop in a daze. The cold wind bit at your skin, but you barely noticed. You didn’t know what you were feeling anymore. You had imagined a future with him, and now it was slipping through your fingers like sand.

      The next day, the confusion still gnawed at you. It was hard to focus on anything other than the image of Chigiri standing next to someone else. The woman was probably sweet, charming, someone who could give him everything you could never offer. Was that why he hadn’t wanted to make things official? You were a fool to have expected more.

      You were lost in your thoughts when your phone buzzed again. A text from him.

      “Hey, can I see you later?”

      Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, reading it over and over. He wanted to see you? What could he possibly want to talk about?

      It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your apartment door. You hesitated for a moment before opening it, only to find Chigiri standing there, his usual calm expression now tinged with uncertainty. His eyes softened when he saw you.

      “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice gentle.

      “I can't,” you replied, trying to sound neutral, but your voice wavered.

      “Why?”

      “I have to um, walk my pet fish.” You gave a poor excuse.

      “Princess, you don’t have a fish.” He bluntly said, giving you a pointed look. Your heart fluttered at the nickname. Why was he here? Why was he calling you that? Why was he playing with you like this? You defeatedly let him in, his gaze sweeping over the room before settling on you. There was an awkward silence between you two. He opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly unsure of where to start.

      “You saw the article, didn’t you” he said finally, his tone a little more serious.

      You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “I did. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone seriously.”

      “I am,” He said defensively and you gave him a confused look. Was he here to break your heart all over again?

      “If that's all you came here to say then—”

      “You.” He interrupted you. “It’s you. I’m serious about you.”

      “What?”

      “It’s not what you think,” he replied quickly, his voice tense. “That woman in the photo, she was just a fan who asked to take a picture. Nothing more. I don’t know how that rumor even got started.”

      You bit your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through you. Of course, you hadn’t asked him about her. You’d just jumped to conclusions, letting insecurity take hold of you.

      “Oh.” you murmured, guilt creeping into your voice.

      Chigiri ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated with himself. “No, this is my fault. I should’ve made it clear our relationship so you’d never have to feel this way.” His eyes softened as he stepped closer to you. “But what I’m saying is, I’ve only been focused on you.”

      Your heart skipped in your chest, and you met his gaze at last. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his eyes.

      “Yeah, um, me too.” You awkwardly answered, suddenly feeling small under his gaze.

      “Can I be your boyfriend? Officially?”

      “Yes.”

     Rin Itoshi

      You had always known that Rin Itoshi wasn’t the type for deep emotions. His cool demeanor, sharp gaze, and the way he carried himself on and off the field. it all screamed that he was in control, always. And when you found yourself in a casual relationship with him, it was easy to slip into that mindset.

      For weeks, it had been nothing more than stolen moments. Quiet, private conversations after practice, a few casual dinners here and there, and the occasional late-night texts. You were often there for him during his more emotional problems. You knew Rin wasn’t big on showing affection, and in return, you respected his boundaries. But in the back of your mind, you started to wonder if there was something more. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself, but you couldn’t help it. Every time he looked at you, there was a flicker of something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to share.

      You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. You were enjoying the moments you shared with him, and that was enough, right? But as the days went by, something inside you told you that you wanted more. You had no idea how he would respond, but the thought of asking had you nervous.

      You planned it all out. You’d wait for the perfect moment, maybe after one of his matches when his energy was high, and then you’d talk. Just the two of you, no distractions. You’d explain how you felt.You hoped he wouldn’t brush you off, maybe, just maybe, he’d feel the same way.

      But of course, life had a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expected them.

      It all started on a random afternoon when you were scrolling through your phone. You were at home, taking a much-needed break from work and from your thoughts of Rin. The screen flickered to a news headline that made your stomach drop.

      "Rin Itoshi Goes Public with New Girlfriend—Is the Blue Lock Star Finally Settling Down?"

      Your eyes went wide, and your heart skipped a beat. There, on your screen, was a picture of Rin and a woman, someone you had never seen before.

      It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. Your mind raced as you scrolled through the article, each sentence tightening the knot in your stomach.

      Was this it? Had you been just a casual fling for him all along? Was this the end of whatever bond you thought you had? The thought of Rin moving on with someone else. Someone so glamorous and perfect for him, of course. It lleft you feeling small and foolish. You had been planning to have that conversation, and now, it felt like everything was too late.

      With trembling fingers, you dropped your phone on the couch and buried your face in your hands. It was the ultimate slap to your pride, the crushing reality that your feelings were never going to be returned the way you had hoped.

      What had you been thinking? You had let yourself get carried away, fantasizing about something more than what was real. You had never asked him where you stood, and now it was too late to fix it. You laughed bitterly at yourself, feeling the sting of embarrassment.

      The next day, you avoided Rin. You weren’t ready to confront him, not yet—not with the painful sting of the news still so fresh in your mind. It hurt more than you expected, this grief, and you needed space to think. You decided to take a walk, but somehow, your feet led you to the one place you always went when you were hurt—a quiet pond tucked away near the park.

      You hadn’t expected to find him there.

      As soon as you spotted him, your breath caught in your throat. You froze, a sharp pang of discomfort settling in your chest. You considered turning and walking away before he noticed you, but it was too late. He saw you.

      "Y/n..." Rin's voice broke through the silence, and there was something in his tone that made you pause. Relief. You didn’t know how to explain it, but it was unmistakable.

      You took a step back, instinctively wanting to retreat, but he caught it. Panic flashed in his eyes, and the urgency in his voice grew. “Don’t go.”

      You stood still, unsure of what to say or do, as he closed the distance between you. The cool air felt heavier with the weight of the moment. Rin’s usual composure was gone. He looked almost vulnerable as he started to speak again.

      “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it before. “The woman in that article... I’ve known her for a while, but we’re not dating. It was just a misunderstanding.”

      You blinked, your mind racing to process his words. "Oh... okay."

      You didn’t know how to respond. The silence stretched between you, thick with all the things unsaid. Now didn’t feel like the right time to voice your feelings, not with everything still so raw.

      Rin seemed to sense your hesitation, though. He took a deep breath, his gaze steady but intense. "I think... we should be together."

      Your heart skipped, confused by the sudden shift. "What?"

      “I don’t like the thought of us not being together,” he continued, his voice firm yet vulnerable. He was a mess. His emotions were all over the place. He was so scared of messing this up with you. “So, will you...?”

      You blinked again, unsure if you heard him correctly. “You’re asking me to be your girlfriend?”

      His expression softened, the edges of his usual coldness melting away. “I am.”

      You hesitated, the doubts swirling in your mind. "I don’t want to get hurt."

      Rin stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that took you by surprise. “I promise, I won’t do that to you.”

      You took a shaky breath, the tension in your chest easing slightly. "Okay."

      As soon as you responded, he shocked you with a chaste kiss, his face heating up immedietly afterwards.

     Seishiro Nagi

      It had been an unusually calm week for you and Seishiro Nagi. Despite the usual chaos that surrounded him, whether it was from Blue Lock’s relentless competition or his fanbase constantly buzzing about his status, you and Nagi had settled into a nice routine. There was no commitment, no promises. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s company in a casual, laid-back way. He’d show up at yours some nights, you'd binge-watch youtube or play video games, and the occasional kiss was exchanged, but it was never anything too serious.

      It was comfortable. Simple. And deep down, you felt like it was enough for you.

      But lately? Lately, something has shifted. Maybe it was the way his hands lingered just a bit longer when they brushed yours, or the way his smile made your heart beat faster than it ever had before. He didn’t say it, but you could feel something brewing underneath the surface. You wondered if maybe, just maybe, it was time to talk to him about what this was, what you two were.

      You stood in front of your mirror one morning, nervously adjusting your hair. The moment had to be right. You’d already rehearsed what you were going to say. “Seishiro, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could try something more serious?” The words sounded perfect in your mind, a perfect reflection of your growing feelings. No turning back now.

      However, fate had other plans.

      While scrolling through your phone that afternoon, you stumbled upon an article. The headline hit you like a ton of bricks:

      "Seishiro Nagi Officially Goes Public with New Girlfriend!"

      Your heart stopped. You felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Your hands trembled as you read the article further. There was Nagi, smiling in a photo with some unknown woman. The words “new girlfriend” loomed over the image like a cruel reminder that whatever you and Nagi had shared, whatever you had hoped for, wasn’t real.

      You had been overthinking things. This was just a casual thing to him, wasn’t it? You’d misread everything.

      Suddenly, the message you had planned to send him felt ridiculous. Why bother talking about getting serious when clearly, he was already with someone else?

      At that moment, the emotional whiplash was too much. You needed space. You couldn’t face him. You locked your phone screen and pushed all thoughts of the conversation aside.

      For the rest of the day, you tried to distract yourself. You threw yourself into your work, watched mindless videos, but it was all in vain. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw that headline. Your Nagi, someone you had been secretly falling for, was with someone else.

      Meanwhile, Nagi had no clue that his whole world had just fallen apart.

      He was sleeping soundly, sprawled out in his bed, his phone discarded on the nightstand.

      The evening sunset pierced through his window as he blinked his eyes open, groggy but still content. He missed you, he wonderd if you were busy. A small smile tugged at his lips as he sent you a message. You always knew how to cheer him up after a long day.

      But there was no reply.

      Weird.

      Nagi tilted his head, frowning as he locked his phone and stretched his arms above his head. He figured you were just busy or had fallen asleep early. Still, he felt a little disappointed. You two hadn’t played together in a while.

      He got out of bed, grabbing a quick snack before going back to his room to play a few rounds of valorant on his pc. Yet, something gnawed at him, something felt off. He decided to call you.

      But you didn’t pick up.

      Weird.

      He tried again. Still, no response.

      Now, Nagi was starting to get that feeling in his gut. It wasn’t like you to ignore him like this. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone buzzed again.

      This time, it was an article. The same one from earlier, only now it was everywhere. Nagi’s eyes widened as he saw the headline about him and the new “girlfriend.” He froze.

      What the hell was going on?

      His first instinct was to brush it off as some stupid gossip, but his feelings quickly turned into panic as he realized you must’ve seen the article.

      You were sitting on your couch, trying to make sense of everything, when you heard a knock at your door.

      Your heart skipped a beat. Part of you wanted to believe it was him, but the other half knew that was unrealistic. Even if he was here, you didn’t want to face him. Not like this. You didn’t want to explain the mess in your mind, the whirlwind of emotions, and the jealousy that had sprung up when you saw that article.

      You opened the door and there he was. Nagi.

      And before you could say anything, he kissed you—firmly, his lips pressing against yours in a way that made your mind go blank. His hand cupped your cheek, and when he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours, a mix of determination and something else you couldn’t quite place. He hoped you could feel all of his love for you through it.

      “You’re mine. Not anyone else,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “That news article? Fake. All of it.”

      You blinked, completely shocked. “What… what do you mean?”

      Nagi sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what was going on until just now. I didn’t even realize you saw it. But I wasn’t with her. I was never with her. It’s all some stupid misunderstanding.”

      You could hardly process his words. Your heart pounded in your chest, and suddenly the flood of emotions that had built up came rushing in. But before you could speak, Nagi kissed you again before pouting.

      “Now that we’ve cleared that, can we play Overwatch?”

      It was absurd. You were still trying to digest the fact that he’d kissed you that passionately and now he was asking to game? Your face was still red from the gesture.

      “...Okay,” you finally muttered, still a little dazed.

      “Good, I’ve missed playing with my girlfriend.” He smiled, ruffling your hair as he walked past you to get to your room. You almost choked. You’ve been his girlfriend? Since when?

     Reo Mikage

      You had always known your relationship with Reo Mikage wasn’t exactly typical, but that never stopped you from dreaming. Reo had a way of making everything feel effortless. He was charming, with an enigmatic allure that seemed to make everyone gravitate toward him. And yet, he always found a way to make you feel special. Whether it was through a text, spoiling you with gifts, late night walks, a shared glance during class, or a quiet dinner date at one of the many upscale restaurants his family frequented, Reo knew how to make you feel like you were the only one in his world.

      You weren't from the same social circle as Reo, and that difference stung every time you allowed yourself to think about it. Reo was the heir to a vast fortune, a golden boy in the world of soccer, destined for greatness. His family’s wealth and influence were legendary. Meanwhile, you were just another girl trying to make it through school, scraping together money for lunch while juggling part-time jobs. You didn’t feel like you belonged in his world, even if Reo never seemed to care about that. He had a way of looking past the things that defined people’s worth in the eyes of the world. But the reality of your difference in status was something you couldn’t fully ignore.

      It wasn’t as if Reo was outwardly dismissive about your life or background. No, Reo was sweet, considerate, and—frustratingly—always seemed like he genuinely enjoyed your company. But lately, you were starting to wonder if you had been kidding yourself. Maybe you were just another fleeting thing in his life, a distraction before he inevitably moved on to someone more suited for him. Someone from a wealthier, more established family. Someone who could fit seamlessly into his world.

      That was why, after months of casually seeing each other, you found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed one evening, staring at your phone screen and rehearsing what you were going to say to him. You’d been thinking about it for weeks now. Maybe it was time to have the conversation, to ask him where you stood and if there could be something more between you. You had convinced yourself that it was the right time. Reo was always warm toward you, his touches tender and his words soft. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move.

      But then, as you scrolled through your social media feed while absently flipping through notes for your upcoming exam, you saw it.

      The headline nearly knocked the breath out of you: "Reo Mikage Goes Official with Korean Chaebol Heiress, Seung Hae."

      Your heart dropped into your stomach as your finger hovered over the screen. Was this some kind of joke? You blinked twice, then read the article again. It showed pictures of Reo with a beautiful, tall woman at a high-profile event. Her arms draped around his, smiles exchanged, the kind of chemistry you never seemed to get from him.

      The worst part? The woman was breathtaking, with long black hair, flawless skin, and a designer outfit that screamed money. Her family was a significant part of the Chaebol world in Korea, and she fit perfectly into the realm of Reo’s lifestyle. Someone his family would approve of.

      A strange mix of anger, sadness, and embarrassment bubbled up inside you. You could feel your face flush with humiliation. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about the possibility of Reo seeing someone else, but this felt different. It felt real.

      Reo had been so kind to you, so sweet, that you thought maybe you were building something together. But now it all felt like a lie. You had been foolish to think he could ever be serious about someone like you. Maybe this was his way of showing you that your relationship could never be more than a fleeting thing.

      I guess I was just a phase, you thought bitterly.

      The next day, you avoided Reo. It wasn’t easy, especially since he always found ways to pick you up after school or find a day to hang out but you kept your distance. Whenever he texted you, asking if you could meet, you came up with a vague excuse about needing to study or work. Every time your phone buzzed with his name, you winced.

      But despite all your avoidance, Reo never seemed to give up. His persistence only fueled the fire of your insecurities. What could he possibly want from you now?

      Then came the day he appeared at your school’s courtyard, standing by a bench, watching you from afar. His expression wasn’t one of frustration or confusion; it was one of pure determination. It was oddly nostalgic back from when he used to go to school here.

      “Y/n, we need to talk,” he called out.

      You froze, clutching your bag tighter as you forced a tight smile. “There’s nothing to talk about, Reo.”

      “Don’t give me that,” he said, closing the distance between you. “You’re avoiding me, and it’s clear something’s wrong.”

      Your breath hitched. You could feel the tears starting to prickle at your eyes as the weight of it all hit you.

      “I saw the article,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I saw the pictures of you and her.”

      Reo’s face paled for a second before his usual calm demeanor returned. He raised a hand, gently cupping your face. “Love,” he began, his voice steady. “She’s just a family friend.”

      Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up at him, uncertain. “Then why was she wrapped around you like that? You and her, together like that... it didn’t look like business.”

      “She was posed up like that with several other sons of prestigious families there. I promise you, you’re my only one.”

      You swallowed, the tightness in your throat easing slightly. “But I’m not... I’m not like you. You have your world, Reo, and I’m just... me. It’s not the same.”

      Reo stepped even closer, his eyes soft and focused on you. “You are my world, and that is more than enough for me. Don’t ever think it isn’t.”

      The sincerity in his voice hit you like a wave, and suddenly the weight you had carried for so long felt like it was lifting.

      “I’m sorry I didn’t explain it sooner,” Reo said, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “I should’ve told you about the event but I didn’t know the press would spin a story like this.”

      “Oh”

      Reo chuckled softly, his hands still gently holding your face. “I hope you know that you’re it for me, Y/n.”

      Your heart fluttered in your chest. This was real. In that moment, all your insecurities seemed to vanish. Maybe you didn’t come from the same world as Reo, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t share a future with him.

      “Does that mean we’re together?” You asked.

      “My heart was yours since the day we met.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

[pepperyduck]

“oral report” with keigo takami

this is part seven!! of my kinktober event :3

word count: 1.8k

warnings: nsfw, oral, cunnilingus, first time oral. (18+ mdni)

notes: going to write so much angst when i get done w these…

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

keigo takami, better known as the pro-hero hawks, had stunned the world when he announced that he was now dating you, and up-and-coming hero new to the big city scene. at the time, you had only made a few, yet impactful, public scenes; only recognized as one of hawks’ sidekicks. your relationship was raged over, how inappropriate it was for him to date someone that worked for him. keigo had decided all the ones who hated were more jealous than anything, and he was right.

of course, dating hawks had it’s own up and downs, but there was no question that keigo was the most devoted lover you had been with. no matter how busy, he always made sure to keep up with you, to check on you. lavish date nights were every weekend, friday night at 8 o’clock. the world didn’t need him for the few hours he was with you. flowers sat on your desk each morning, along with your favorite coffee order and something to eat. jealousy is normal for things like this, especially when it comes to one of the most recognizable faces in japan.

something else the world was completely engrossed in and jealous over?

your sex lives.

there was no doubt about it, keigo was an absolute prodigy in bed. he was a mind altering experience in the sheets. and although he came off cocky and self-absorbed, there was nothing that got keigo off more than your pleasure. he could just tell you hadn’t been with anyone as good as him, and your body language with him boosted his ego enough by itself. but when you couldn’t help but spew how amazing he made you feel, that pushed him over the edge more than anything. maybe it was all selfish in the end.

however, keigo never understood your hesitation to let him give you oral. he let you go down on him, more than he’d like to admit, but he had never gotten the chance to reciprocate that pleasure. and there was nothing on this earth keigo takami loved more than eating pussy. when he was younger and whored around more, it was his favorite thing to do to all the girls he slept with. and he wanted to eat you, so bad he could taste it.

he asked repeatedly for months, and you always said you didn’t like it, that it was uncomfy for you. but really, you’d never even had your pussy eaten, and you only didn’t want to because you didn’t want to be judged. your taste, whether or not keigo would like it, was all you worried about. keigo didn’t bother with it anymore.

that was, until he had one particularly fucked day when you were off. you hadn’t heard from him all day, but you had taken the day to take care of yourself, even having time to take an everything shower. you felt fresh and pristine awaiting your boyfriend’s arrival in his apartment, in the soft robe he kept for you at his place. your hero stumbled through the doors dramatically, eyes locking on you in an instant.

“hi, baby!” you chirp from the expensive couch, leisurely sitting with your legs crossed, phone open with some thread talking about your boyfriend. he stomps over to you, throwing his gloves off and pushing his glasses up on his head. by the way he’s acting, it’s obvious to you he had a rough day. before you can even offer him anything to relax, though, he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, wings lazily spread out to block most of your vision.

“i want to eat you out, baby. please,” keigo begs, pawing at your thighs and the robe that covered them. his request makes you tense up for a moment, you were used to fucking some nights when he’d walk through the door, or even give him head, but never this.

“why don’t i do something to make you feel better?” you suggest, leaning down to catch your boyfriend’s lips in a quick kiss. surprisingly, he shakes his head no, only continuing to feel his way around your legs.

“no, i wanna taste you.”

you move back on the couch, disconnecting your legs from his hands. keigo can tell you’re nervous, unsure about such an intimate act, but right now, he’d do anything just to get his tongue on the sweetness in between your legs.

“what if...i taste bad? what if you don’t like it?” you question, trying to stall and convince him that maybe he doesn’t actually want to eat you out—but there’s a fire in the back of his eyes that says he’d determined. he won’t go anywhere until he gets what he wants.

“trust me,” keigo begins, grabbing your hand to kiss the back of it, “i’m gonna love it, no matter what,” and he drops his head to rest it on your thigh, “and you will, too. please, let me.”

needless to say, you couldn’t say no to your boyfriend anymore. not when, within record time, he had you sprawled out on his huge bed, kissing your body as he works his way down to the place he’d wanted a taste of, forever. his wings shudder when he gets in between your thighs, able to smell the arousal off of you, off of your sweet pussy he’d wanted to have like this. you yelp when he kisses over the fabric of your panties, sloppily trailing his lips and tongue all over the slit hidden by cheap cotton.

“what did you do today?” keigo asks, leaning back for only a second to pull off the pesky garment separating you from his mouth.

“u—um,” you mutter, going silent when he hungrily spreads your thighs open, looking at your folds like he hadn’t seen food in 10 years.

“tell me,” he softly demands, looking up at you with those gorgeous golden eyes—you melt. he kisses up the sensitive flesh, outright teasing you until you begin to speak.

“um, i—i woke up, at like, 9:30,” you slowly begin, labored breaths puffing out of your lungs.

“yeah?” mwah, “what else?”

it’s sick the way he enjoys seeing you so ravished and nervous, all over a little pussy eating. but he’d be lying to himself if he said it was easy to hold back right now. keigo can see that you’re dripping arousal at the compromised situation, and how desperate you are for a little contact—even if it’s something you were inexperienced with.

“and then, i made breakfast—keigo—,” you whisper his name as his tongue comes to swipe, just once, over your sensitive bundle of nerves. it sends shockwaves down your spine from how sensitive and aroused you are—it’s intoxicating, and you want more.

“what’d you have, pretty?” his voice is teasing, and his head rests upon your inner thigh again, waiting for you to answer him.

“i made—mm,” a light moan bubbles from your throat when his tongue swipes again, “a smoothie, and—and eggs,” your words draw themselves out, shaky and slow, as you fight the urge to shut your thighs around keigo’s head. his tongue traces tight small circles right on the tip of your clit—tender and attentively—he knows how much better it feels to start off slow, tame.

keigo threatens to stop his movements, slowly pulling away from you. it’s a game to him, really, to see how much you can take before you’ll never want it to end. and to think you were so scared about it—but keigo’s getting off on it more than you. shakily sighing, you swallow and continue speaking.

“then, i cleaned—i cleaned my apartment, some.”

keigo could laugh at your stammering, but instead decides to indulge you more. he lays his tongue flat and wriggles side to side, covering the upper half on your cunt entirely, before taking a long lick up. your legs shiver, his wings perk up, he notices the reaction and whimper you give and he does it again, and again. you squeeze your eyes shut, getting lost in how heavenly it feels, but keigo stops, shattering your pleasured trance. you whine.

“after that, i came over here,” you pause for a second when keigo’s tongue begins to lap at you again, “and—baby,” you whimper out for him again, dragging out the ‘y’ and lulling your head to the side, “cleaned here, too.”

“how sweet,” keigo coos, pulling back entirely from your cunt, “trying to keep my apartment nice to come home to, hm?”

“mm—mhmm!” you hum, the simple sound stuttering out as keigo dips his tongue down into your sopping hole, fucking you with his tongue. his nose nudges against your clit at the same time, warm muscle constricting inside of you, sending stars into your vision. “then i—showered, and shaved—,” you’re trying so hard to not let the pleasure overcome you. keigo can tell. he’s too good at this type of thing.

your thighs mindlessly spread wider, inviting keigo in even more. your hips stutter and barely grind on his face. the little stubble he keeps is rightfully soaked now, dripping with the arousal he conjured up so easily. you can feel his tongue all over you, lapping up and down your wet folds, paying extra attention when he gets to around your clit. he flicks and circles the bud and wraps his lips around it to suck lightly.

sweaty fingers of yours thread through his hair, knocking his glasses off, you’re pushing his head into you because it’s all so good. keigo’s wings stutter and move around a little, finding pleasure in the way you’re pulling his hair, the way you’re now grinding all over his face, losing yourself in the feeling. and losing yourself you are, as that knot grows in your abdomen towards your release.

“keigo,” you moan, so sultry and like you hadn’t ever before, “i’m gonna cum!” your voice is slutty, needy, and your boyfriend can’t get enough of it.

keigo hums something, muffled by your cunt, the vibrations sending a shock through your core. you mewl out a choked moan, loud, and it lets keigo know to not stop, keep going to get you there. he continues to mumble words into your cunt, sliding his mouth and nose all through your folds, shaking his head side to side vigorously to literally drown in the pussy. yours is the only one he’d drown in, of course.

with a nasty moan, you topple over the edge, it’s almost too much for you. your orgasm is intense, toes curling and hips stuttering, trying so hard to ride yourself through it. keigo takes a few more long licks through your folds, stopping when your thighs begin to shake from the overstimulation. he draws his head back from your cunt, a long string of arousal connecting to his chin, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face. cocky bastard.

“see, told you i’d like it.”

[ecstarry]

@jegulus-microfic / rank / 705 words / game of truth or dare goes wrong, or not?

“Trust me Sirius, you will regret this,” Regulus whispered in his brother’s ears as everyone around them cheered for the next game. 

“I’m your big brother, I will never regret embarrassing you.” Sirius took Regulus by the shoulders and made him sit on a chair in the middle of the circle. It was the first party where both Sirius’ group of friends and Regulus’ were hanging out, it was Dorcas and Marlene’s idea now that they were dating. 

“The game is really easy, you take a drop of veritaserum, and someone gets to ask a question. Got it?” Everyone around the room hummed in confirmation as Regulus drank his dose of the potion. His eyes met James’ across the room, his boyfriend tried to conceal his nervousness with a smile. If their friends were smarter, Regulus was sure they would’ve picked up on their relationship by now, without the need of a veritaserum. 

First, they went through the normal round of questions just to make sure that the potion was working. No more than three questions in and Sirius decided it was time for the actual fun.

“Do I actually embarrass you, Reggie?” Sirius teased, but he was clearly eager for the answer. 

“No, you’re my favorite person and I love you.” A round of loud ‘awwws’ echoed in the room. “Oh shut up, and just ask another question,” Regulus blurted out. 

He immediately regretted it as he saw Barty’s mind clearly plotting something. 

“Okay, I have one. Dear Regulus, would you be so kind as to rank your best kisses?”

“Ew! NO!” Sirius quickly protested. 

From the corner of his eye, Regulus could tell how the question made James' heart race. This was not how they had planned to tell everyone they were dating. 

“Shhh! I want to know,” Remus insisted.

“I don’t! Knowing you two kissed when you did perfect rounds together is all the information I need about the matter!” Sirius was hysterical. 

“Just answer the question Reg, start with the third place,” Barty instructed. 

Regulus tried to fight the truth, this truly was the last way he wanted his brother and friends to know he had been dating Gryffindor’s golden boy. He once again searched for James’ eyes, and James was already looking at him, so lovingly. His boyfriend mouthed the words ‘it’s okay’, so Regulus took a deep breath and answered. 

“Fine. Third place would be Evan.”

“Quite the kisser you are too, love.” Evan blew him a kiss in response and everyone started laughing and commenting. 

“Shhh, I want to know who is in second place,” Dorcas intercepted. 

“Sirius, don’t hate me,” Regulus said as he closed his eyes and fought once more the words that were about to come out. “Second one is Rem-”

“I’M LEAVING!” Sirius announced loudly as he got up. 

“Sirius, don’t be dramatic, don’t you want to know who is actually first?” Remus said, trying to distract him. 

“Don’t worry, it’s me,” Barty said with an immense amount of confidence. 

“Ugh, it couldn’t get worse I guess,” Sirius mumbled as he sat on Remus’ lap. “If you say James I will fucking kill you, Regulus.”

Regulus' eyes widened and a violent blush crept from his neck towards his cheeks, without thinking he snapped his head towards James who was the same shade of crimson as him. Fuck. His reaction had been too noticeable. Everyone around had caught it, especially Sirius. 

“Regulus! Say right now that James does not have the first place in your fucking kissing list!”

Silence. 

“He does…”

The room erupted in a million loud voices laughing, screaming and questions aimed at both him and James. 

When did this happen!? 

How am I not on your list!?

Are you dating!?

Or are you fucking!?

Regulus began feeling dizzy and overwhelmed, he got up the chair to try to breathe but felt his legs falter. He felt familiar hands, calloused hands, warm hands steady him. James.

“It’s okay, baby,” James assured him as his arms wrapped around Regulus’ waist. 

James’ voice brought him back to reality, he saw Sirius approaching and couldn’t help the words that left his mouth with a laugh, “I told you so.”

They never played with veritaserum again.

more microfics here

[auroreliis]

what if reader had k*lled someone before and the batfam (yandere) dis not know like «I dont need your damn protection» reader said to the batfam «but the world is so dangerous out there and your just a baby» the batfam said to reader « B!TCH I have k*lled someone the f you mean im a baby?!?» the batfam with horrified expresion «WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!»

That last little part is a funny little over dramatic way it might go.

Oh, you are COOKED. (Do pardon my use of brainrot language...)

CW: mentions of murder...obviously

The first thing they do is isolate you in a room and keep you there for a while until they figure out what to do with you (and so you can think about what you've done).

What happens next? Therapy sessions, which they all agreed on.

Don't worry, you will tell them everything, specifically Bruce, since he's the one carrying out the therapy sessions.

"Why did you kill that person?"

"How do you feel about it now?"

"Do you regret it?"

"How do you feel after our conversation?"

He pities the person you ended up killing and feels a little disappointed. A life was taken by you, an innocent person's life. He didn't raise you like this, did he...?

However, he also pities you. Unless you are trained to kill someone, it breaks you. He's seen it so many times, people commiting murders and then panicking, breaking down, because they couldn't live with the consequences of their actions.

You're a mere civilian, how could you ever have been exposed to that kind of environment? How could he let this happen? No, it is his fault for waiting so long before saving you from the world. He will teach you why it's wrong. He will make sure you heal and never take another life again. After all, it is his job as your father to guide you in life.

That's right, the only reason you could've done it is because you didn't know any better. You are a mere child in this old, cruel world, after all.

In the end, he holds himself accountable. He should've done better. He should've protected you better from the cruel world you live in.

Dick would be shocked. His little birdie, his angel, killed someone? Impossible. You're so innocent, like a baby, so how could this be true? He would take some time off to come to terms with the fact that you're not the kind of person he expected. When he comes back, after a week, he seems slightly distant.

With time, following your therapy sessions, he will return to his normal, clingy, annoying self. However, you can't help but wonder why he was acting so weird that one week.

Despite the fact that he also kills people, Jason is incredibly suprised and disappointed after hearing that you killed someone. Unlike everyone else, he feels anger. You're so young, so innocent, you grew up in a place where murdering someone was not necessary, so why would you do it? He doesn't kill people because he wants to, he only does it because he needs to. But you didn't need to do it.

That's what upsets him most. You chose to do it. You willingly took a life.

Despite being so hurt, so broken, he still feels an ounce hesitation when killing people, so how come you, someone who didn't go through what he did, could kill someone in a situation that wasn't even self-defense? Nothing could possibly justify it! And here you are, proudly announcing it to them. You should be ashamed.

He kills murderers, so what should he do with you? Does that make you as bad as the criminals he kills? God, he doesn't even want to think about it.

Jason won't get over it for at least a month. He'll be very distant around you and won't be seen smiling for a long time. Towards you exclusively, his behaviour becomes incredibly bitter. In fact, he's the one who most strongly encourages Bruce to carry out the long, grueling therapy sessions. He really thinks it'll do you good...

Tim's reaction would be more mild than expected. He would certainly feel uncomfortable with the fact that you seemingly feel not an ounce of guilt or regret. However, he wouldn't change his behaviour too much for too long.

During the first week, he'd be a bit more careful with his affection towards you. No, it's not because he's scared. He simply wants to observe you and see how effective the therapy sessions are. If he feels that your attitude towards murder hasn't changed, he would encourage Bruce to be more intense during the therapy sessions.

He would be more careful with the activities he offers you, since Bruce called a meeting with everyone to establish more rules, those being directed at Tim mostly. Tim's "cool, lenient older brother"-act needs to change.

From now on, no crime films or shows (especially not any violent ones), no crime documentaries, no crime or detective books, no vular language, no threats towards anyone or anything and for at least 14 months, no leaving the manor.

This change will probably be permanent.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

 “Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

Tags:

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[blue-jisungs]

hi can i ask how p1harmony would act if their partner run out of social battery in public settings? thank youu

when you run out of social battery ♡

# author's note … wow i haven’t written in this format for a while <\3

┆彡 KEEHO [ 기호 ]

you’re both chill and stubborn so good luck with that :p

you always try to act like you’re not tired but if keeho asks you, you tell him the truth

if its an event he really really really wanted to attend you’ll both stay until he’s done but you can be assured he’ll pamper you later <3

and during too!

“one more hour, okay? there’s still some people i wanted to talk to” he pouted slightly and you just nodded, sending him a lazy smile “i’ll grab you a drink, hm?”

you watched him have fun and that warmed your heart. he was all giddy and excited, you just didn’t have the gut to go home now.

once he was done and satisfied, he ordered an uber and wrapped an arm around you waiting for it to arrive. your eyes were half closed, nuzzling into him for assurance.

“i’m so proud, you know? thank you for holding on, i really appreciate it. love you” he hummed and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“anything for you. can you scratch my back when we go to sleep though?” you asked, raising your head up. keeho grinned with a nod.

“of course”

┆彡 INTAK [ 인탁 ]

he could be in the middle of a concert and see a glimpse of tiredness on your face and call it a day

he’s soooo chivalrous:( he’ll take the blame so you don’t feel guilty for going home earlier

(even if you protest)

intak bursted out laughing at a joke one of his friends cracked and with a corner of his eye he saw your bland reaction. it was a sign you’re out of your social battery; well, you started feeling exhausted earlier - you became non verbal a while ago and started fiddling with your purse.

one look it took for you two to communicate that you’re tired. you opened your lips to announce it but intak grabbed your hand under the table and let out a sudden, loud gasp that even startled you.

“ah, i forgot i have practice tomorrow. shit, we moved it and it totally slipped my mind… the joke about aliends just reminded me… you know, soul… well, whatever. we’ll keep going, im so so sorry!” he said normally, rubbing your skin and sending his friends an apologetic smile “let’s do this again soon, guys! i had so much fun! let me know when you get home, okay?”

they were not too happy about it but let you go, minutes later you two sitting in a cab.

“you’re crazy” you grunted and pressed a kiss onto his cheek. seeing you a bit more relaxed now was worth it.

“i was getting tired too, either way.”

┆彡 THEO [ 테오 ]

hes just so into whats happening that more often than not he kind of misses the stage when you run out of your battery :(

he feels really guilty when he does though so u can be sure the second he realizes you’re like,, half asleep, he’s taking you home

wont admit but lowkey ur sleepy state is far more worth observing than whatever he was doing at the social outing

“and then i won! literally snatched the ball from his hands and–” taeyang was explaining how he absolutely destroyed intak in a basketball game they had recently, when keeho nudged his arm.

“your partner is sleeping on seob. and he’s also asleep” the leader snickered and theo’s eyes widened as he scanned the place in search of you. eventually, he saw you and the youngest asleep on the couch. your head leaning on his shoulder, seob’s head resting on yours. a soft smile formed on taeyang’s lips.

“let’s get them home” he snickered and stood up. guilt washed over him that he didn’t notice earlier.

he gently woke you up, sleepy eyes meeting his. theo tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“hi, sleepyhead. sorry for not noticing earlier” he hummed and you just shook your head in protest.

“it’s okay, jongseob is a nice pillow” you snickered and your boyfriend just tsked.

“good thing we’re going home now. i’m a better pillow, actually” taeyang puffed his chest out dramatically and helped you stand up.

“not with that big head of yours, idiot–” the younger’s voice sounded quietly from below.

┆彡 JIUNG [ 지웅 ]

another gentleman 🥹

always puts you first, no matter the circumstances!!

does not care in the slightest what others will think,, like hello u wanna be home, so then be it!

you really tried to act like you’re not tired, you really did. but shota started showing you his island on his switch and you couldn’t help your eyes from closing a bit. you two ran off to hide your unwillingness to be here – since jiung really wanted to attend this party you just didn’t want to go home yet. since soul also felt a little sleepy and didn’t mind you not talking, you just watched his animal crossing shenanigans.

“here you two are” you heard a familiar voice and slowly looked up to see jiung. he sent you a soft smile and then noticed shota rubbing his eyes. “let’s go home, okay?”

“nooo you wanted to be here” you whined, a small pout on your lips. he shook his head and helped you stand up.

“i’ve had my fun. now it’s time for bed. both of you” he giggled and helped shota stand up too “i feel like a grumpy dad”

you scoffed and pecked his cheek, grabbing the younger boy’s switch before it slipped out of his hand. jiung sent you a warm smile and interlocked your hand with his.

┆彡 SHOTA [ 翔太 ]

he sooo gets the feeling of running out of social battery:(

when there are times when you run out of it sooner than him (which is rather the other way around) he’ll ,, well ..

go home without telling anyone (maybe except his mom (keeho))

“shota, i’m kinda tired” you mumbled into his ear, hanging on his shoulder tiredly. he scanned your face with wide eyes – and the hands that were anxiously fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. he nodded, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers with his reassuringly “but we don’t have to–”

“let’s go then” your boyfriend smiled softly and dragged you to the exit, sneaking behind the crowd. you played along, pretending to be walking on your tip toes. once out, fresh air made you wake up a little.

“won’t they be worried?” you asked quietly. shota hummed in thought.

“no, i told keeho. besides, we left together” he shrugged and swung your hands a little. the gesture was really precious “do you want to play minecraft when we get home? we don’t have to talk”

┆彡 JONGSEOB [ 종섭 ]

honestly he couldn’t care less what others will think

if his baby is out of social battery, he’s out of there

he’s just so rebellious ! (will get yelled at later)

seob noticed you drifting away a while ago but only when you poked his arm gently, he was sure. he leaned forward to hear you better.

“i kind of want to go home but… if you want to stay that’s fine too. i just won’t be too talkative, i’m really tried” you told him, scanning his reaction. he nodded and looked at you. tucking back a stray hair behind your ear with a mischievous look in his eye.

“let’s head home then. it’s pissing me off that i can’t kiss you here with all the people around” he teased with a playful smile (and it’s not like that he’s too shy to do it in public or whatever).

jongseob took your hand gently and you two sneaked outside, leaving without a word.

“i wonder when will they notice” you giggled, wrapping your hand around his arm.

“if they even will” jongseob snickered.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,,

@mon2sunjinsuver ,, @litepowee

[gilbertscurls]

Stuck With You ➵ Matt Sturniolo

Matt sat cross-legged on the couch, flipping through channels as he waited for you to come back from the kitchen. You had insisted on making popcorn for your movie night, though he knew you’d likely burn it or set the microwave to the wrong time, like always.

“Hey, Matt, do we put the popcorn on one minute or two?” your voice called from the other room.

He smirked to himself. Called it.

“Two minutes, but stop it early if it starts slowing down,” he yelled back, leaning into the couch with a grin.

“Right. Got it,” you replied, your tone filled with your usual confidence despite the fact you always asked the same question every time. He shook his head, already anticipating your probable victory over yet another microwaved snack.

Moments later, you appeared in the doorway, triumphantly holding a large bowl of popcorn. “Success! No burnt kernels this time,” you announced, plopping down next to him, your head resting against his shoulder.

“I’m impressed,” he teased, draping an arm around you. “You’re really stepping up in the world.”

You laughed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his face. “Shut up. I’m practically a chef.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” he chuckled, stealing a piece of popcorn from the bowl. “Master of all things microwaveable.”

You settled into their usual spots, your feet tucked under his legs while you scrolled through the endless sea of romantic comedies on the streaming service. He already knew which one you’d pick; you had a habit of rewatching the same movies over and over, and tonight would be no different.

“Ooh, let’s watch The Proposal again,” you said, your eyes lighting up as you hovered over the familiar title.

Matt groaned playfully. “Again? Haven’t you seen that movie like… fifty times?”

“Only like ten,” you corrected with a smile. “But come on, you know you secretly love it.”

He sighed dramatically but clicked on the movie anyway. “Fine, but I reserve the right to make fun of every cheesy line.”

“Deal,” you grinned, cuddling closer as the movie began.

The opening credits rolled, and soon enough, you were lost in the predictable but comforting story of romance, witty banter, and happy endings. Every so often, you would mutter along with your favorite lines, your voice a soft echo of the characters on screen.

Matt wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, though. Instead, his mind kept wandering to how normal this all felt—how natural it was to have you here, your head against his shoulder, your legs tangled with his, as if you’d always belonged there.

“You know,” you said during a lull in the movie, your voice casual but thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh,” he teased, nudging you lightly. “That’s dangerous.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, poking him in the side. “I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about us.”

His heart skipped a beat, though he kept his expression relaxed. “Yeah? What about us?”

You sat up slightly, turning to face him. “About how we’re always together. Like… we spend more time together than most couples I know. And we’re not even sick of each other.”

Matt raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the mood light despite the way his chest tightened at your words. “Speak for yourself. I’m definitely sick of you.”

“Liar,” you grinned, lightly smacking his arm. “But seriously, it’s kinda funny, isn’t it? How we’ve just… become this. Like we’re stuck together.”

Matt’s eyes softened as he looked at you, the playful banter fading for a moment. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We kind of are.”

You smiled, leaning your head back against his chest. “Well, I guess there are worse people to be stuck with.”

He chuckled at your words, his chest tightening at the thought of being stuck with you. Stuck with your sass, your clinginess, your endless chatter.

Stuck with your love for cheesy romantic comedies, your inability to cook anything that didn't come from a packet, your habit of stealing all his hoodies.

He was stuck with you, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove

[paperclip-skz]

Overheard

fem*Reader x Hyunjin

*WARNING*

contains: p n v, sex, unprotected sex, kissing, second hand embarrassment, "caught", not proof read, I'm sure I missed something; let me know in the comments.

WC: 2.6k

*****

“Yeah, yeah, I just got home, " you say as you close the door to your friend's apartment. You didn’t tell him you were coming over, but he wouldn’t have given you a key to his home if he didn’t want you showing up unannounced. If that's not the case, then it's really on him. 

You told your friend you were headed home, but you didn't want to go home. Home is empty and cold, but Hyunjin’s home is warm and cozy, not yours, so you decide to go to his instead. It's perfectly normal for you to sleep over at his house; you two have been friends for years, and you're both completely comfortable with each other; it's totally not related to the massive crush you secretly have on him… yeah, that has nothing to do with anything. 

“Oh. My. God. No. Way.” you dramatically roll your eyes as your friend nags you about the latest drama in your friend group. You cared about your friends, of course you did, but at the moment, you couldn’t care less about what was happening in other people's lives. All you wanted to do was to relax and watch bad TV in your best friend's arms on the couch, with a nice cup of tea and a warm blanket.

You kick your heels off by the door and drag yourself to the couch, where you lay your bag. 

Hyunjin is utterly unaware of your presence in his apartment. He gave you that key because he knows you and always wants you around, but usually, he would hear something, either the door opening and closing, announcing your arrival, or maybe a dramatic groan from you, a groan he would laugh at, a groan he secretly loved. 

But this time, he didn’t hear anything; as far as he knew, he was utterly alone in the apartment. So, he stepped out of the shower with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his long hair. He went to the kitchen to grab the cup of tea he had prepared before showering.

He still didn’t notice your presence even when he entered the shared kitchen/ living room, the living room you were currently in, sitting on the couch….eyes popping out of your skull. 

You stopped talking to your friend way before Hyunjin walked into the room practically naked. Sure, you'd steal a glance every now and again when he lifted his shirt, but you’ve never seen him shirtless. You're basically foaming at the mouth, staring at his back as he stirs his little cup of tea. 

As you watch him, you swallow thickly; you can't help but notice the intricate movements of his muscles as they subtly contract and relax. The fabric around his waist drapes casually, emphasizing the contours of his body. With each strand of hair that cascades across his face, you feel an overwhelming impulse to delicately brush it away.

Suddenly, Hyunjin felt a thickness in the room and a slight shuffle. He turned around, holding the counter tightly behind him. Once your eyes connected with his, they bulged in surprise. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” His voice came out in an awkward high pitch, which would have made you laugh if it wasn’t for the towel slowly cascading down to the floor. 

Your mind becomes cloudy, and words fail to escape your tongue. Your breath turns into a suppressed gasp, refusing to break free, and your eyes remain open, unable to close even if they want to.

Hyunjin isn’t fast enough. You’ve already seen…it. And the blush has already covered his cheeks. Before a word can be uttered, Hyunjin flees from the scene and dashes into his room.

You're left alone in a heated room, cheeks flushed, mind dizzy, and your friend yelling at you on the other end. 

“Oh, sorry!”

****

The cold breeze makes your skin shiver. Shortly after Hyunjin ran, you fled the scene yourself to the balcony of the apartment, trying to focus back on your friend. But you couldn’t help it; Hyunjin clouded your mind more than before. What was once just a simple and harmless crush was now going to become much more dangerous now that you knew what he looked like. 

“You sound like you're somewhere else,” your friend gives up. 

You sigh. “I’m sorry, it's just…I had an…awkward encounter with Hyunjin a little bit ago, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What happened?” your friend perks interest, noticing your mood change.

A smile creeps up as you recall the memory. You probably shouldn’t tell your friend; it was embarrassing, and Hyunjin probably wouldn’t want them to know. But it's eating at you not to tell someone, especially not to tell someone what you saw. 

He knew he had to face you at some point. You were still out there, in his living room, probably standing there with shock written all over your face. He slowly made his way out of his room, now fully clothed. Once he got out into the living room, he saw you on the balcony, talking on your phone. A sigh left him, knowing the awkward moment could be spared a bit longer. 

As he turned his head, he caught a glimpse of the side of your face. A lovely pink blush adorned your cheeks—you only blush when you're talking about something exciting. And your eyes gleam with a sparkle—he desperately wants to know what you're talking about. 

Without thinking, he walks to the balcony door, your back facing him. He creaks the door open only slightly to get a hint of what you're talking about. His name falls from your lips, and he immediately smiles….until he knows why his name fell from your delicate lips. 

“And he was so….” words fail on your tongue.

“So what! Big? Small? Average??! “

“BIG,” you try to keep your voice down, not wanting Hyunjin to overhear in case he is in the next room. Little did you know he could hear everything. “F/N, he was huge, and I’m talking like Magic Mike level.” A soft laugh leaves you, and you can hear your friend getting excited - She knows you’ve had a major crush on Hyunjin for a while.

Hyunjin leaves the door as is, thinking you might just ignore the fact that it was ajar. He leaves with a proud smile, stretching his face. You thought he was big… his chest puffs out with ego written all over it. 

Hyunjin noticed you finishing your conversation on the phone and beginning to hang up. He quickly returned to the kitchen as if you didn’t make his heart spike. Fortunately, he managed to make his way back to the kitchen, casually stirring his team, giving off the impression that he was unfazed.… Yeah, everything is perfectly normal. There is definitely not any discomfort in his pants at the mention of you saying he's big. 

You walk in, trying to act casual, until you see Hyunjin leaning against the counter with a cup of tea in hand. Your heart sinks as you immediately recall the moment just a while ago, at that very spot, with much less clothing. 

“Hey,” he says in a calm, relaxed tone. 

“Hey,” you mimic. 

“So, what were you and your friend talking about?” he smirks while taking a sip of his tea. 

Your mouth works quicker than your head can muster up an excuse, “Oh uhh. Nothing, just girl talk.” You try to distract yourself by making your way into the kitchen, trying to find a cup of your own to make some tea. 

“Ah, I see.” There is a long pause before he says, "Sorry about earlier.” Your cheeks flush. 

“Earlier?” you turn back to Hyunjin, who is rubbing the back of his neck while his eyes look up at you. “OH,” you deserve some sort of acting award or something like an Oscar. “Don’t worry about it; I didn’t see anything.” 

“Really?” he rounds the corner of the counter, coming closer to you. Your grip on the white mug you grabbed earlier tightens as Hyunjin comes face-to-face with you. 

“Yeah… really?” you swallow so hard you think he can hear you. 

He nods with a sure smirk and starts leaning back on the nearby counter. You watch his frame relax into the counter, his cup of tea still in his hand. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For a second, you thought he heard you on the balcony; that would be -

“So, you think I’m big?” 

The cup in your hand clings to the floor, along with your heart. He watches you slowly turn your head to him with a terrified expression. “I-uh-i,” you stutter, but all your met with is Hyunjin’s laughter. 

He barrels over in a fit of giggles, holding his stomach like his insides will explode out of him. “My god, you should see your face right now.”

“Ha. ha.” Your laugh is humorless as you continue to watch him. Suddenly, his back straightens, and he composes himself. Your mind races with potential situations. He could yell at you for being disgusting, or he could continue laughing at you, or he could kiss you. Wait, what?

His long sigh brings you back to reality, a reality that has Hyunjin right in front of you with a different kind of darkness in his eyes. His cup has somehow transferred to the counter, leaving his hands empty and itching for something to hold. His smirk still plays on his lips, making you shrink. 

“You're cute when you blush.” The warmth on your cheeks burns your skin, and your eyes dart anywhere but his. 

Your hand comes up to feel the heat radiating off of you, “you didn’t answer my question, pretty.” his dark change of tone makes your thighs clench and your insides melt. His silky voice is like a broken record in your mind, making your legs feel weak. 

“Y-yes,” you whisper. 

“Do you want me to show you exactly how big it is?” His face comes closer to yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath; both your lips at a whisper of a touch.

“Y-yes” 

“Yes what doll?” His hand carefully cups your jaw, forcing you to look nowhere but at him. 

“Yes, sir?” His devious smirk widens as a devilish glint sparkles in his eyes.

It was a struggle to untwine your bodies with each other, but you both eventually made it down the hall and into Hyunjin’s room without your lips disconnecting. His hands held you like a vice, grabbing every bit of your body he could. 

Your clothes are being pulled off your body, leaving you bare on Hyunjin’s bed. His tongue darts out to swipe a long stripe up your stomach to your chest. You arch your body, chasing more of him, wanting more of him. 

Your pleas and whines don’t go unnoticed, and Hyunjin is quick to pull his shirt over his head. You take a moment to admire the perfectly sculpted torso thats before you. You ogle over every ridge and define sharp lines that make up his body. 

“Like what you see, doll?” 

You swallow your words, nodding your head instead. “Awe, barely even touched you, and you're already too fucked to speak,” he giggles, leaning his body down to ghost his lips across yours. Your body begs for the satisfying feeling of his lips on yours, for his body pressing down on yours. 

You squirm underneath him, not getting the friction you so desperately need. Small moans and whimpers are music to Hyunjin’s ears. “You want me, baby?” you nod your head vigorously, the dark colour of his voice sending sparks of pleasure shooting to your heat. 

Suddenly, Hyunjin is slipping out of his sweats, scrunching them to his waist. His cock springs free, shooting against his lower abdomen. Slowly he spreads your legs apart, presenting your dripping bare cunt. He coats his throbbing tip between your dripping folds, spreading the wetness all over your inner thighs. “I’ll show you just how big I really am”. 

And with one final teasing flick against your clit, he’s pushing inch by thumping thick inch into your clenching walls. The unprepared burn freezes your entire body, making you still underneath him, but Hyunjin doesn’t let up. He keeps pushing every inch he has, pressing his pubic bone to your hips. You can feel him kiss your cervix with a gentle push of his thighs; anything that could form into words melts into moans, and your eyes cross with no thought in mind. 

His head disappears into the crook of your neck, and he smells your sweet scent like it's the only thing keeping him in control, the only thing holding him back from setting a brutal pace. 

You could feel your body relaxing into the pleasurable burn that was the stretch of Hyunjin’s cock. You could feel the juices of your own arousal dripping downwards. “Baby,” your strained whisper brought Hyunjin back from whatever euphoric spell he was under, bringing his head back up to you, “move baby, I need you to move”.

With that, his hips started to push inward, pulling his cock to a halfway point only to slowly push forward. You could feel your walls stretch and flex with every move he made. Your body practically vibrated, and your hands were clawing at Hyunjin’s back, wanting him to bully your cunt like it belonged to him, like you belonged to him. 

You swing your legs around his hip, urging him on, but it only gives him an idea. 

He could feel your walls clenching around his length like your life depended on it. He knew you wanted him deeper, faster; he knew you wanted more, but you were going to take what he gave you. Giving you a small hint of success at your little plea, he sprung his hips all the way back until his tip kissed the outskirts of your folds, only to slowly push back in, feeling your walls hug his cock perfectly. You made a pitiful moan in frustration, a sound that seemed to amuse him as he let out a dark and mocking laugh. “You’ll take what I give you,” he spat, which only made you clench around him. 

He set his pace slow and deep, forcing you to take it his way. Until he couldn’t take it anymore. You were so warm, so wet for him, so perfect to the touch, and you even smelled so sweet. His hips started to rock, forgetting his previous pace; he began to lose all control with the feeling of being inside you. 

With everything that had been happening, you could feel the heavy knot twist and turn with every deep plunge Hyunjin made. But with the added pressure of his cruel pace and the way his dick curved in just the right way to bully your g-spot, your legs began to shake, and your whole body tensed. The knot quickly snaps, sending you in a spiral of pleasure. 

Hyunjin refused to stop; with every intrusion of his thick cock battered against your over-stimulated walls, dragging shrinks of pleasure from your throat. You lost yourself in complete bliss, your body seizing and trembling out of control. 

You could feel his thrust getting sloppier up till when you felt his thick seed coat your inner walls white. You will never forget this feeling, the feeling of being completely and utterly full of Hyunjin’s cum, of it dripping out of you while him still being inside of you.

Hyunjin collapsed on top of you, propping his forearm next to you so he wasn’t completely crushing you. 

“So…was it as big as you thought?”

[debonairprincesposts]

Lost focus (He’s too pretty)

Summary: Reader has an exam to study for and only has a few hours to cram everything in their brain. Distractions are a thing so reader decides that enlisting Jason’s help might work. It doesn’t

Words: 1.1k

Wrote this one myself. ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

Can you tell how much I like him?

This was way more challenging than you thought it would be. You had a couple of chapters left with barely enough time to complete them. If! And only if, you got your shit together, rubbed them two brain cells, and forced yourself to push through, you might succeed. You could do it if you really put your mind to it, but

You just can’t focus.

Your phone was right side up right next you, and you can’t help but glance at it every time the screen lit up.

Gasp!

You just got an amazing idea!

It might just be genius.

Maybe Jason can help.

Jason, your hubby, your guardian Angel, your strong teddy bear, your sweetheart, the love of your life, the-

Okay-

You’re getting off track. Where were you?

Oh yes! Maybe Jason can help you keep your focus.

You get off your desk, stretch a bit cuz you been on that chair since like-… Wait…., what time even is it.

You glimpsed at your clock above your door, and-

Gasp!

Holy crap!

You’ve been get distracted for over an hour!

Realizing the amount of time you just wasted daydreaming, it cemented the fact that you absolutely must get Jason to keep track of you and act as your pretty, beautiful, breathtaking, delightful, sexy-

Whoa- best to keep it family friendly.

You just need him! Period!

And so, you venture out of your room and into the harsh, chaotic environment that resides outside your door that you haven’t seen in years -ahem- a few hours.

Jason was just chillin’ on the couch in the living room reading a book that he’d been wanting to catch up on since forever, it’s a rare day off.

You arrive at the entrance of the living room and pause, your gaze wandering in search of him.

Huzzah!

Lover has been spotted!

Now to plot a dramatic entrance and maybe hope to startle him.

(You know he heard you from the moment you left your room, but you like to delude yourself into thinking that you might be able to sneak up on him)

You stomp your way into the living room and stand just a few feet away from the entrance-

He noticed you making your way in and opened his beautiful mouth with pretty soft, glossy lips that you could just bite-

Whoa- family friendly remember?

-to ask if you needed anything.

You then announce,

“Beloved! I have encountered a dilemma and require your assistance!”

Jason looks at bit surprised at your use of fancy talk then chuckles, “Sure thing, chipmunk. What do you need?”

You now lose your nerve and just revert back to normal talk, totally not because you lack the proper vocabulary to talk like a person out of a fantasy novel, definitely not.

It’s not!

Anyway!

Where were you? Ah, right. You were about to converse with this divine being you call your boyfriend, who has graced your life with his presence and brought nothing but good fortune and love, and ask for his help.

He looks at you expectantly, closing his book after bookmarking it, and waits for you to answer.

His eyes are pretty as he looks at you. Like a swirl of green in a bottomless ocean that would just absolutely drown you, from love or something else you don’t know, you don’t mind either. If he points his gun at you and shoots, you might just thank him for it.

Damn.

You’re a simp.

He’s still waiting for you to speak.

Okay! Not the time to have realizations about yourself! Concentrate!

You clear your throat, “I just need you keep track of me while I study so I don’t get distracted.” You take a deep breath to compose yourself and not drift back to thinking about how his thighs could-

WOAH!! ABORT! ABORT!

He gives you a nod to encourage you to finish what you wanted to say. Honestly, bless his heart. His patience is eternal. Especially if he has to deal with you. A million topics at a time with no momentary focus whatsoever.

You take another deep breath, “I’m getting really distracted and really need you to keep me focused and just watch me to make sure I get things done. Can you help me?” You look down as you fiddle with the strings of your hoodie. Why is it so embarrassing to ask for his help. Maybe cuz it feels like a godly creation such as himself shouldn’t be doing dumb things just to appease a feeble mortal like you. How you bagged someone like him is beyond you.

“Sure, chipmunk. I don’t mind.” He smiled. Oh, my god. It’s too bright. You stare. You think you’re getting blinded by how brightly he shines.

What’s that noise?

Oh, he’s snapping his fingers in front of your face. He looks concerned. Oh no. You made Angel upset. Damnit! Think fast!

“Sweetheart?” He asks, “You with me?” He’s slightly frowning in worry. The light from the living room window highlights his hair and makes his high cheekbones more pronounced. His hair looks really shiny and fluffy too. You just wanna touch it.

So you do.

You reach out a hand towards his head as he looks at you with concern mixed in with confusion. You run your fingers through his hair, you then start petting it.

Mmm. Fluffy.

Realization makes its way across his face. He snorts, then lets out a short laugh. If that’s the last sound you hear before you die, then you can die happy. “Is that why you wanted me to help?” He smirks, “Can’t keep track of your attention?” He’s not pulling away, so you guess he’s enjoying your little pets.

“Uhh,” how dignified, “Yeah, n-no. I can’t.”

He smiles again at your stutter, you’re so cute. His smile seems brighter than your future, your heart might just give out at this point, “Alright. Let’s get you back to studying, yeah?”

He gives a kiss on the forehead before he turns you around, gently grabs you by your shoulders, and starts walking you back to your room.

As you enter, he nudges you towards your desk while he takes a seat on your bed.

He claps twice, “Chop chop, Chipmunk! Time to focus.” He then brings out a different book outta nowhere. Where was he hiding that? “I’ll be right here the whole time. Time to get to it, sweets.”

You nod in determination while give him a salute. He chuckles at your response as he lays back on your pillows while you turn back to your desk to try and get things done.

…..

You can hear him slowly breathing on your bed, the rustling noises that his clothes make when he moves to adjust himself, the flip of the paper from the book he’s reading. You took a glimpse at him from your peripherals. He looks ethereal in his fitted shirt and baggy sweatpants.

Yeah, you’re definitely failing your exam.

I think I have adhd…..

[pneumaticshift]

pls can we have batlantern confession butmake it cringe ^..^

Oh buddy, I can do cringe. I thrive off cringe. I am the cringe.

———

The annoying thing about Spooky was that he existed. 

That was the core issue, really. Bruce Wayne existed. If he didn’t, Hal’s life would’ve been a helluva lot simpler. 

Because if Bruce didn’t exist, Hal wouldn’t have to deal with the constant feeling of being outplayed. He wouldn’t have to put up with the fact that no matter what he did, no matter how far he flew, how hard he hit or how clever he was, there would always be this blob of blackness lurking in the background to aggressively judge his every mood. 

If Bruce didn’t exist, Hal wouldn’t have to deal with that look. The one where Spooky narrowed his eyes, pressed his lips into that grim, disappointed line, and somehow managed to communicate all the power of justice, vengeance, and at least forty years of unresolved emotional baggage in a single glance. He wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that Bruce could vanish mid-conversation just to be dramatic. He wouldn’t have to deal with the way Bruce always seemed to know things, things Hal hadn’t even figured out about himself yet.

If Bruce Wayne didn’t exist, Hal wouldn’t be freaking out because he fell in love entirely without his consent. 

And now he was existing in proximity. Standing in the Watchtower common room, pouring himself a cup of coffee like it was normal, like he was normal. Like he was just some guy. Entirely unforgiving of the fact that Hal realised he had fallen in love with him three days prior and was now suffering the beginnings of a really fun existential crisis because of it. 

Because Hal was Hal and because he couldn’t be normal about anything, as soon as Bruce glided into the room, all tucked up in his big dumb cape, he froze. Odocoileus virginianus. Wide eyes, locked joints, brain empty, headlights on. His entire life flashing before his eyes. Not even the good parts. The stupid parts where he tripped on air, or the time he gave a presentation in college with his fly undone and he had been wearing his girlfriend’s underwear.

He was being dramatic, maybe, but he thought he earned the right to be dramatic when the object of his very reluctant affections was the type to unironically wear a cape and flounce about punching things in the moonlight. 

It was, however, a wildly ineffective reaction when faced with a man who was widely considered to be the World’s Greatest Detective. Which, in Hal’s opinion, was a dumb title. 

“You’re quiet,” Bruce said, because he noticed things like that. Of course he would. Bruce noticed everything. He probably had folders on everyone in the League and kept track of how many words each of them said in a day. Probably had charts and graphs, too. Loser. 

“I’m quiet?” Hal repeated. Then, because he was the type to acknowledge an opportunity to make things worse for himself and leap towards it, he added, “I’m never quiet. You’re the quiet one, ever think about that? Can’t a guy take a second just to, like, sit here and exist? Is that really such a big deal?”

Spooky leaned against the counter and took a sip of his coffee. He was still wearing the cowl, but his expression probably wouldn’t have changed even without it. There was a really specific feeling that came with being stared at judgmentally by Batman. Usually irritation. Now, Hal realised, it was accompanied by a very unwelcome flip in his stomach. 

“I suppose not,” Bruce said. 

This was exactly why Hal had plans to avoid Bruce for the rest of his life. Or at least until he got a handle of this new light he was seeing him in. Without saying much of anything, Spooky was already on his way to backing Hal into a corner. It wasn’t even intentional. It was just the way he was. Just the way he goddamn existed. 

So, after a moment of staring awkwardly at Bruce and hoping one of them would just disintegrate or something, Hal made the totally rational decision to bolt.

“Okay, great talk!” he announced, clapping his hands together and immediately heading for the door. Like a coward. He’d never live it down. 

Bruce, to his credit, didn’t stop him. He just stood there, stock still. Creepy, really. Hal didn’t know why that did it for him, but it sure fucking did. But while Spooky didn’t move, he did decide to speak instead. “Jordan,” he called. “Are you trying to avoid me?”

Yes. Yes, Batman, Hal was definitely trying to do that. He was already committing to his hasty escape, but he automatically turned back. As much as he was being a little baby bitch and running away with his tail between his legs, he didn’t appreciate being called out on it. 

His brain malfunctioned, he was pretty sure he temporarily lost his mind, and his mouth decided to betray him in real time. 

“What? No. That would be insane. Why would I avoid you? I love you. Shit.”

The silence that followed wasn’t deafening, but it was mortifying. 

Hal turned to stone. Just fully froze in place. Bruce didn’t react. Didn’t so much as blink. He just kept on looking at Hal with that same, neutral, horribly patient expression. Almost like he didn’t even need to react. Almost like he was just waiting to see what Hal would do next. 

Which was unfortunate, because Hal really had no idea what to do next.

There was a full second where he debated trying to play it off. Slap him on the shoulder, haha, love you, pal, buddy, chum, friend, and then saunter off like he meant to do that. But his body had seized up in horror and his instincts were helpfully ordering him to abort. 

So, naturally, he did the only thing he could do.

He turned on his heel and walked straight into the doorframe.

Which wasn’t cool. Like, at all. 

The impact was pretty catastrophic. Both for his poor nose and his dignity. A sickening thud, the crunch of something not meant to be crunched, and then — oh. Oh no. That was a lot of blood. 

Hal staggered back, hand flying to his nose, and when he pulled away, yeah. Absolutely wrecked. A flood was gushing down his face, dripping from his chin and mixing with the green of his Lantern suit until he was Christmas colours. He tried to catch it in his palm, and it stained the white of his glove red. 

Spooky was still incapable of reacting like a normal person. He just watched in mild interest. No exclamation of shock, no gasp or startled movement. Just a slow blink, as if he were mentally processing the exact physics of how Hal had managed to do this to himself.

"Ow," Hal said belatedly, because his nerve endings had finally caught up to the disaster. "Shit, ow."

With a contemplative grunt, Bruce set his coffee down. That was when Hal knew he was doomed. Not because Spooky looked all that  concerned, but because he was moving toward Hal with the quiet efficiency of a man about to take charge of the situation.

"Sit down," Bruce instructed, and Hal, in the midst of blood loss and panic, did exactly that.

The bat-utility belt had a lot of useful shit in it, and Bruce pulled out a wad of gauze to press against Hal’s tender face. "I think I broke my nose," Hal said, only because he felt the need to contribute something to the moment. It came out like ‘I thig I broge by dose’. Which was humiliating, naturally. 

Bruce hummed, tilting Hal’s chin slightly to assess the damage. “It’s not broken.”

“Good. Great. Awesome,” Hal muttered into the gauze. “Did it look cool? It felt cool.”

Of course, Bruce didn’t reply for a moment. He was too busy applying pressure and ignoring how social interactions were supposed to go. Then, with absolutely no warning, he said, “You love me?”

Hal choked. Almost literally, because he inhaled wrong and the blood situation immediately got so much worse. Bruce just waited, patient as ever, as Hal just stared and bled in his direction. “You’re asking me that now?”

“You’re the one who said it.”

“I was panicking,” he snapped back, a little frantic. “It was trauma-induced. You can’t hold people accountable for things they say when they’re hemorrhaging.”

Bruce mercifully didn’t mention that Hal definitely wasn’t bleeding when he blurted out his fucking undying love for all things Spooky. He just held the towel firmly in place, gaze steady, unreadable, waiting for Hal to pull his head out of his ass.

And Hal, still actively leaking from the face, realised he was probably going to have to answer. 

He did search for an escape route for all of three seconds, but there was none. Bruce had him locked in place with the sheer force of presence. One hand firm against Hal’s saw (strong, sexy), keeping the gauze in place like he knew Hal would try to run if given even a moment of leeway. 

Which, you know, fair. Hal absolutely would have thrown himself out of the nearest airlock if he thought it would get him out of this conversation.

Instead, he was stuck. Bleeding, horrified, and, worst of all, subject to Bruce staring at him with the kind of scrutiny that peeled a person apart and rummaged around their insides for something raw and real to fall out. It was a small mercy that he couldn’t see those blue eyes. That would’ve finished him off. 

Hal swallowed. His nose throbbed. His entire life throbbed.

“Okay, listen,” he started, fully prepared to embark on a desperate campaign of damage control, but he faltered. 

“You love me.”

Not a question this time. A statement.

Hal made a noise that came out really ugly because of the whole nose situation. “You gotta stop saying it, man.”

Spooky continued to just look at him. 

God, there was no getting out of this. There wasn’t even an inch of plausible deniability there to hide behind. Just him, his big dumb mouth, and Bruce Wayne looking at him like he was something to be figured out. 

Fine, whatever. Hal had bounced back from worse things. This was mid-tier at best. Just mild, horrific, soul-crushing vulnerability. No big deal. 

“I mean, yeah, obviously, I love you,” he grumbled, his words a little garbled because of all the blood and gauze. “You’re an asshole. I trust you. I wanna punch you. I respect you. And yeah, sometimes I wanna make out with you really bad, but that’s not weird because most people want to do that with you because you have, like, a really nice face, which is frankly unfair—”

“Hal.”

He shut his mouth immediately. He recognised that tone. Patient, firm, Batman tone. It had shut him up in a crisis before, and apparently, it worked on this kind of crisis too.

Bruce let the silence stretch for a moment. Probably because he was kind of a dick. Then, without preamble, he said, “I already knew.”

Hal could’ve strangled him. “Oh, you’re an asshole.”

“You’re not subtle.”

“I’ll give you subtle, you goddamn—”

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“Honestly, I was banking on you respecting my privacy for once, but maybe I set the bar too high. I can’t believe you. You’re such a dick. Can’t let a guy pine in peace.”

Spooky shrugged. “I thought you’d eventually say something.”

“Buddy, you overestimated me so hard—”

“I was right.”

Hal groaned so hard his soul tried to escape his body. He also conveniently ignored how Batman was implying he had known for a long time, while Hal had only figured it out three days ago. That sucked. “Stop being so— so smug about it! God, you’re such a douche.”

Bruce, because he was the worst and Hal was apparently into that, had the audacity to smirk. Just slightly. Just enough for Hal to know it was there. And that right there was really playing dirty, because Hal was already compromised. His brain was melting, he was actively dying (having a nosebleed) and now Spooky was looking at him like that? 

Unacceptable. Absolutely unfair. 

But then Bruce did something worse. So much worse.

He reached up and tugged the cowl off. 

It wasn’t just that Spooky was obscenely attractive under all the doom and gloom. It was the way he did it. Like he was peeling off a formality, stripping down from Batman to just Bruce. All casual, all intimate, and for some godforsaken reason, he’d decided to do it right in front of Hal. 

And Hal, brilliant, composed, intergalactically renowned Green Lantern that he was, reacted by making a tiny distressed noise in the back of his throat. 

"Okay!" he yelped, scrambling to stand. "Time to leave.”

Spooky exhaled something that might have been a laugh in the right light, and caught Hal’s elbow to steady him. “Sit down before you hurt yourself again.”

Hal grumbled under his breath but did as he was told. Mostly because his options were limited and he was pretty sure his blood supply was dangerously low at this point. Bruce unravelled a fresh roll of gauze to help soak up the blood that kept on coming. 

And then, because if Hal hadn’t suffered enough, Bruce said in the most infuriatingly casual tone possible, “Let me know when you’re ready to talk about that ‘make out’ part.”

Hal promptly decided that bleeding out might actually be the preferable option.

[diminuel]

I have so many questions about Grumpy, especially the fact that he and Luffy are so close in age and so dramatically different in personality. How do he and Luffy get along? Does he grow up alongside ASL and if so how does that work? And when he announces he wants to be a Marine, how do his brothers react? I know that they are raised significantly less feral than in canon but I’m still picturing Ace, Sabo and Luffy running off into the wilderness with their pipes and Crocodile asking, “Aren’t you going to go play with your brothers?” and Grumpy not even looking up from his book and going, “Not even if you paid me.”

I just love him so much (And mini-Mingo too but I think you said she was a few years younger than Grumpy + Luffy so I'm imagining that Ace and Sabo were already off pirating/revolutionary-ing by the time she was old enough to join their hijinx)

All very good questions but I don't really know the answers either because surely the addition of other children is going to affect the dynamic. For example, Ace finds himself the fierce guardian of not only Luffy (who just showers him in constant sweet baby affection and a lot of crying) but also a second little brother. One that is a lot more reserved, doesn't offer smiles quite as willingly but at least he cries less than Luffy! Ace probably spends a lot of time with Luffy to give his parents a bit of time to look after the Grumpy. Once Luffy can walk, they're off in the village, at the beach. Just constantly on adventures.

And they will include Grumpy as soon as he's a bit older. I think there's just no way around being a bit feral if you're a Monkey D, with parents who don't really know what a normal childhood is.

And I think Luffy is getting a lot of pointers from Ace (and Sabo) about what a solemn duty it is to be a big brother. I think Luffy would just pull Grumpy along to play and fight and hunt wild animals.

It would probably also be one of the main ASL activities and competition to get a smile out of their grumpy little brother. Which isn't toooooo hard because I think he can be rather cheerful as well, especially as a child. He's just a lot more quiet and thoughtful than Luffy is, not as interested in beating each other up but the wildness of the D.clan lineage just has to find an outlet somehow! He and Dragon can sit at a desk for hours, just quietly reading and working. Sabo likes to read too but if you give him the choice between reading and beating something or someone up with a pipe, he's gonna choose the latter.

(I'm a bit amused about how Shanks might react when there are two kids in Makino's bar because she's probably watching the kids and Luffy drags Grumpy everywhere. And if we go with the idea that Shanks knows Dragon, the kid's quiet way of handling things would be very familiar, but surely that's just a coincidence.)

The events of Grey Terminal are probably going to affect all of the boys differently, setting them off on their own trajectories towards becoming pirates, a revolutionary and, well, a marine. A lot of pirates are rough and cruel after all and will hurt those who are defenseless. Grumpy wants to help and there are just not a lot of ways of doing it.

I don't think Grumpy will tell anyone about what he wants to do, especially not Grandpa Garp because he'd just become more intense, maybe forcing him to train even harder. And they also all have different things to worry about: the aftermath of Grey Terminal as well as the birth of Mini Mingo not long after mean that there's just not any time for Grumpy to bring up what he thinks he's going to do. When asked, he probably just says he's thinking about becoming a doctor.

When Luffy is about to sail off, I think Grumpy will set out as well and he'll tell Luffy where he's going (a Marine base, to enlist). And just like with Koby, Luffy instantly accepts it. That's his little brother after all, he knows what he's doing! And he'd probably insist on taking Grumpy with him, just for a bit, but no, thank you, Grumpy isn't going to sail on a pirate's ship ;3 He's going to take commercial vessels, do it properly.

(And then when Grumpy makes his way to the base he wanted to enlist in he finds it completely demolished by Luffy. Great. Okay, then let's head to Logue Town, Smoker is rather well known here as well. And then, well... Again. In the middle of the meeting with Smoker to enlist, Luffy happens to Logue Town and Tashigi bumps into something, spilling coffee over his enlistment form. What was his name again? Can't read it... Oh well, make sure No Brows catches the first ship heading towards HQ tomorrow! Says the man who has no brows either. I think. Does Smoker have eyebrows?? *lol*)

I think Dragon will be the one the most worried about Grumpy's choice to enlist. He did the same thing, he walked the same path and it is soul crushing. But Grumpy has to make those choices himself, they can't tell him no and allow the other kids to follow their (very dangerous) dreams. It is a big risk, considering that there will be people in HQ who will look at the boy and go "huh, I swear I've seen this face before" but Garp's in HQ as well and Crocodile is technically an employee of the WG as well. It'll be fine.

It's far from fine, Marineford wrecks all of them.

(Of course, if anyone has any ideas let me know, this verse isn't particularly fleshed out, I'm just listing various ideas and we'll see what sticks around *lol*)

[niallerspayno]

Game Night (Zayn Malik x reader) - Fic Request

Request for @cletumblsblog: Hello, i hope you’re doing well !! Can i send a request about zayn please? We don’t have a lot of imagines about him! Whatever plot just i’d like it if the reader is a part of one direction like as a sixth member? Thank you very much!!

Masterlist

There’s a certain rhythm to your life now, one that’s hard to explain to people who don’t live it. Fame is loud and fast, and you’ve learned to keep up with it because you don’t have a choice. But when you look back, it’s hard to believe how far you’ve come—from a hopeful teenager auditioning on The X Factor to a member of one of the biggest bands in the world.

You remember the moment you first met the boys—five strangers, all nervous energy and tentative smiles, thrown together in a competition none of you really understood yet. The producers thought adding a girl to the group would give you all an edge, and somehow, it worked. What started as an experiment became something unshakable, and now, the six of you are a family.

You’ve grown up together in the truest sense. Louis is your mischief partner, always ready with a joke or a ridiculous scheme to make you laugh. Harry is the one you go to when you need to talk, his calm energy balancing your occasional chaos. Niall’s warmth and easygoing nature feel like home, and Liam’s steady presence and kindness keeps you grounded.

And then there’s Zayn.

From the start, he’s been different. Quiet where the others are loud, reserved in a way that makes you want to understand him more. With Zayn, there’s a comfort you can’t explain—a feeling like he sees you, the real you, in a way no one else does. It’s why you’ve always been closest to him, why your bond feels so unshakable.

The boys have noticed, of course. They tease you both relentlessly, but it’s never mean-spirited. If anything, they seem to enjoy the way you and Zayn gravitate toward each other, the way your connection feels like something rare and unspoken.

It’s a connection you’re still figuring out yourself.

...

Louis’ text comes in the middle of a rare free afternoon.

“Game night at mine. Bring snacks or don’t bother coming. xx”

You laugh, shaking your head at his usual theatrics before sending a quick thumbs-up emoji in reply. Game nights with the boys are the closest thing you have to a “normal” life—just six friends laughing, arguing over board games, and eating way too much junk food. You’ve missed it, missed them.

The air outside Louis’ flat is crisp, the kind of early evening chill that makes you glad you grabbed your oversized hoodie before heading out. Balancing a tray of brownies and a bag of crisps in one hand, you press the doorbell with your free one, hearing the familiar chime echo inside.

It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Louis with a wide grin plastered across his face. “There she is!” he announces, stepping aside and ushering you in with a dramatic flourish.

“Don’t start,” you say with a laugh, slipping past him into the warmth of the flat. The scent of something slightly burnt and far too much cologne hits you immediately, a mix that is uniquely Louis.

“What’s this?” he asks, grabbing at the tray in your hands like it’s treasure.

“Brownies,” you reply, tugging them away from his reach. “But if you keep being greedy, I’m keeping them for myself.”

“Rude,” he says, clutching his chest in mock offense before grinning again. “Alright, come on, everyone’s here already. You’re late.”

“I’m not late,” you argue, kicking off your shoes and setting the brownies on the kitchen counter. “You just like to exaggerate.”

He doesn’t deny it, instead grabbing your bag of crisps and tearing it open as you follow him into the living room.

The chaos is immediate. Harry is sprawled across one end of the couch, lazily flipping through his phone while Niall and Liam are deep in a heated debate over which board game to play first. The coffee table is already overloaded with snacks—half-empty bowls of popcorn, a packet of biscuits, and an open bag of gummy bears that Niall is clearly hoarding.

“Finally!” Niall exclaims when he sees you. “I’ve been starving waiting for you to get here.”

“You’ve been eating the whole time,” Liam points out, rolling his eyes.

“Doesn’t count if it’s not the main snacks,” Niall retorts, gesturing dramatically at your tray of brownies.

“Alright, alright,” you say, laughing as you set the tray down on the table. “I’m here now. What are we playing?”

“Monopoly,” Liam says at the same time Niall shouts, “Pictionary!”

Harry snorts, tossing his phone onto the armrest. “This is why we never start on time.”

“You’re not helping,” Liam points out, but Harry just grins and stretches out further on the couch.

...

You’re just settling into the rhythm of the evening—listening to Liam try and fail to organize everyone—when the doorbell rings again.

“Someone else is late for once!” Louis calls out, jumping up from his seat and disappearing toward the door.

Your brow furrows slightly. You hadn’t realized anyone else was coming. Maybe one of Louis’ friends from outside the group? It’s not uncommon for him to invite a plus-one to these things.

A few seconds later, you hear Louis’ voice, followed by a familiar low laugh that sends your stomach flipping.

Zayn.

He steps into the living room a moment later, his leather jacket slung casually over one shoulder and a takeaway bag in his hand. His hair is slightly tousled, like he’s run his hands through it a few times on the way over, and he’s wearing one of his signature oversized shirts that somehow makes him look effortlessly cool.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Louis says, smirking as he grabs the bag out of Zayn’s hand.

“Nice to see you too, mate,” Zayn replies, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before his gaze flicks across the room. It lands on you, and his expression softens immediately.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and warm.

You can feel the boys’ eyes on you as you smile back. “Hey.”

For a moment, it feels like the rest of the room disappears, leaving just the two of you standing there, caught in an unspoken moment. But then Harry clears his throat loudly, breaking the spell.

“Alright, lover boy, stop hogging the door and sit down,” he says, grinning at you both.

Zayn chuckles, shaking his head as he moves to take the empty spot beside you on the couch. The room shifts slightly as he settles in, his knee brushing against yours under the table. It’s subtle, but it sends a jolt through you all the same.

“You’re late,” you tease, glancing at him.

“Fashionably,” he replies, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Louis reappears with a handful of plates, tossing one in your direction. “Alright, enough flirting. Let’s eat and then play. I’m not losing to you lot on an empty stomach.”

The room bursts into laughter, and just like that, the moment passes. But as Zayn leans back against the couch, his arm brushing yours, you can’t help but feel like tonight might be different.

...

Plates clatter as the remnants of takeaway are cleared from the coffee table, replaced with a pile of game boxes. Louis is already rifling through them, loudly declaring himself “Game Master” while Harry lounges on the armrest of the couch, nibbling on the last slice of garlic bread.

“Right, lads—and lass,” Louis says with a wink in your direction. “We’re starting with Uno because it’s the only game that guarantees drama.”

“Drama?” Niall says, popping a gummy bear into his mouth. “More like guarantees me winning.”

“You wish,” Liam retorts, rolling his eyes as he begins shuffling the deck with the precision of someone who takes game night far too seriously.

You laugh, leaning back against the couch as you watch them bicker. It’s always like this—friendly banter, exaggerated threats of sabotage, and a level of competitiveness that would put most athletes to shame.

Beside you, Zayn chuckles softly, the sound low enough that only you can hear. “Think they realize it’s just a card game?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, smirking. “They’ve been like this since day one.”

He leans slightly closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You any good at Uno?”

“I can hold my own,” you say, feigning confidence. “Why? Worried I’ll beat you?”

“Never,” he says, his smirk widening.

Before you can respond, Louis claps his hands loudly. “Alright, everyone shut up and pay attention! Rules are simple: no cheating, no crying, and no throwing cards at each other. Looking at you, Niall.”

“That was one time,” Niall mutters, earning a round of laughter from the group.

The first few rounds are surprisingly calm—at least by your standards. Niall plays his cards quickly and confidently, grinning like he’s already won, while Liam meticulously plans every move. Harry alternates between playing properly and trying to make everyone laugh, at one point using his draw pile to construct a tiny house of cards.

And then there’s Louis, whose strategy seems to revolve entirely around causing as much chaos as possible.

“You can’t do that!” Liam exclaims as Louis throws down a wild card and gleefully changes the color to one he knows Liam doesn’t have.

“Sure I can,” Louis replies, leaning back smugly. “Read the rules, mate.”

“You wrote the rules,” Liam says, glaring at him.

“Exactly,” Louis says, winking at you. “Which means I can’t be wrong.”

Zayn chuckles, sliding a green card onto the pile. “You’re gonna get yourself disqualified, you know.”

“Can’t disqualify the Game Master,” Louis says, sticking his tongue out.

The room dissolves into laughter again, and you shake your head as you draw your next card. But as the game continues, you notice Zayn’s attention drifting back to you more often than the cards in his hand.

“Your turn,” he murmurs, nudging your arm lightly.

“Right,” you say, focusing on the pile. You manage to play a reverse card, sending the turn back to Zayn, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Nice move,” he says, his tone laced with challenge.

“Thanks,” you reply, biting back a smile. “Try to keep up.”

The subtle back-and-forth doesn’t go unnoticed. Niall points at you both with a gummy bear, his grin mischievous. “Oi, are you two playing Uno or having some private little game over there?”

“Jealous?” Zayn shoots back smoothly, earning a chorus of “oohs” from the rest of the group.

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “He’s just mad because he’s losing,” you say, nodding toward Niall’s growing draw pile.

“She’s got you there,” Harry says, smirking as he skips Niall’s turn entirely.

By the time the final round starts, the room is in full chaos. Liam is meticulously tracking which cards have been played, Niall is accusing Louis of stacking the deck, and Harry is too busy laughing at his own bad luck to care about winning.

You and Zayn, meanwhile, are locked in a quiet battle.

He smirks as he plays another draw two card, forcing you to pick up more. “You alright there?”

“Perfect,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. You manage to play a wild card on your next turn, changing the color to red—the one you know he doesn’t have.

“Bold move,” he says, his gaze flicking to yours.

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” you reply, holding his gaze a beat longer than necessary.

The moment feels charged, like a silent dare neither of you is willing to back down from. But before anything more can happen, Louis slams his final card down with a triumphant shout.

“Uno!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air.

“What?” Liam says, looking genuinely distressed. “How did you—”

“I’m a genius, that’s how,” Louis declares, standing up and bowing dramatically.

The room erupts into laughter and groans, with Niall declaring a rematch and Harry muttering something about sabotage.

You glance at Zayn, who’s watching you with a small smile. “Next time,” he says softly.

“Next time,” you agree, already looking forward to it.

...

The coffee table is cleared once again, now replaced with a giant pad of paper, markers, and a small sand timer that Niall is inspecting with great suspicion.

“Right,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “Team time!”

“We’re calling it now,” Harry declares, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “The power duo of Harry and Louis is unbeatable.”

“Power duo?” Liam says, raising an eyebrow. “You two can’t even agree on pizza toppings.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Louis says confidently. “It’s about vibes, not strategy.”

Niall leans back against the couch, already snacking on another bag of crisps. “Fine. Liam and I are the brains of this operation, then. Prepare to lose.”

You glance around the room, realizing the only person left is Zayn, who’s already watching you with a small, knowing smile.

“Guess that makes us a team,” you say, trying to sound casual even though your heart skips a beat.

“Looks like it,” he replies, leaning back in his seat with a relaxed confidence that makes your stomach flutter.

“Alright,” Louis says, grabbing the pad of paper and tossing it to Liam. “You lot can start. Let’s see what the ‘brains’ can do.”

Liam sets the pad on the table, holding the marker like it’s a weapon. “I’ve got this,” he says confidently, glancing at the card he pulled.

“Timer starts...now!” Louis declares, flipping the sand timer.

Liam begins drawing furiously—lines, circles, and what might be a triangle—while Niall leans forward, squinting at the paper.

“Uh...a house?” Niall guesses. “No, wait, a dog? A cat?”

Liam groans. “No, no, no. It’s obvious! Look at the details!”

“What details?” Niall shoots back, gesturing wildly at the chaotic scribbles. “It looks like a potato with legs!”

“It’s a giraffe!” Liam says, throwing the marker down in exasperation.

“Where’s the neck?” Niall demands, pointing at the stubby figure on the page.

“Time’s up!” Louis announces gleefully, flipping the timer and cackling as Liam buries his face in his hands.

Harry grabs the marker next, glancing at his card before grinning mischievously. “Oh, this is going to be easy,” he says, bending over the pad.

Louis watches intently as Harry starts drawing what can only be described as abstract art.

“A rocket?” Louis guesses.

“Nope,” Harry replies, adding more squiggly lines.

“A fish? A boat? A...banana?”

“It’s obvious!” Harry exclaims, adding yet another wavy line.

Louis throws his hands up. “Mate, I’ve got nothing. It looks like a soggy spoon.”

The timer runs out, and Harry holds up the pad triumphantly. “It’s a roller coaster!”

“That is not a roller coaster,” Louis says, pointing accusingly at the paper.

“Yes, it is! Look, there are the tracks, and those are the people screaming—”

“They’re dots, Harry!”

The room erupts into laughter again, with Niall nearly choking on his crisps and Liam shaking his head in disbelief.

It’s your turn, and you grab the marker, glancing at the card before showing it to Zayn. He nods, leaning forward slightly as you set the pad on the table.

“Alright,” you say, rolling up your sleeves. “Ready?”

“Always,” Zayn replies, his tone soft but confident.

The timer flips, and you immediately start sketching—a few quick lines that form a recognizable shape.

“Tree,” Zayn says instantly.

You nod, adding a few more details.

“Christmas tree.”

“Yes!” you say, grinning as you move on to the next card.

The timer continues, and the two of you fall into an easy rhythm. You draw a circle, and Zayn guesses “sun” before you’ve even added the rays. He gestures for you to keep going, the two of you passing ideas back and forth with an almost telepathic understanding.

“Boat.”

“Candle.”

“Elephant.”

“Bingo,” you say, tossing the marker down just as the timer runs out.

The room is silent for a moment before Niall groans dramatically. “How are you two so good at this?”

“Practice,” Zayn says, smirking as he leans back against the couch.

“Cheating, more like,” Louis mutters, though his grin gives him away.

“You’re just mad because Harry can’t draw,” you tease, earning a laugh from Zayn.

“I can draw,” Harry protests. “You just don’t appreciate my style.”

“Yeah, mate,” Niall chimes in, gesturing at the 'roller coaster' still sitting on the table. “Very avant-garde.”

The laughter continues, but you barely notice as Zayn nudges your arm lightly.

“Good team,” he says quietly, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Best team,” you reply, glancing at him with a small smile.

For a moment, it feels like the chaos of the room fades, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. And when Zayn’s gaze lingers on yours, warm and unspoken, you can’t help but wonder if everyone else notices the shift in the air.

...

The pile of abandoned board games sits in the corner of Louis’ flat, a testament to the group's short attention span. The night has been filled with laughter and playful arguments, but the energy has shifted—restless, buzzing with a sense of anticipation.

“I’m bored,” Louis announces dramatically, sprawling across the floor like a starfish. “We need something with more spice.”

“More spice than Niall eating three jalapeños at once?” Harry teases, smirking as Niall groans in protest.

“Yes,” Louis declares, sitting up abruptly. “We need Truth or Dare.”

“Oh no,” Liam mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh yes,” Louis counters, his grin wicked. “Come on, Payno. Don’t be a coward.”

The group exchanges glances, and one by one, the reluctant smiles and nods signal agreement.

The rules are simple: no skipping a turn, and if you fail a dare or lie during a truth, you face a penalty—usually an unspeakable concoction from Louis’ fridge.

Louis spins the bottle first, and it lands on Harry.

“Truth or dare, Styles?” Louis asks, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“Dare,” Harry says confidently, leaning back with an easy grin.

“I dare you to… serenade your left shoe like it’s your one true love.”

The group bursts into laughter as Harry immediately grabs his shoe and launches into an absurdly romantic rendition of What Makes You Beautiful, complete with heartfelt gazes and dramatic hand gestures.

“Beautiful,” Niall says, wiping away fake tears. “Truly moving.”

The bottle spins again, landing on Liam.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, already smirking.

“Truth,” Liam says cautiously.

“Coward,” Louis mutters under his breath before asking, “Alright, who’s your least favorite member of the band?”

The room erupts into laughter as Liam’s eyes widen.

“I’m not answering that!” Liam protests, but the rules are the rules.

“Penalty!” Louis shouts, jumping up to raid the fridge. A few minutes later, Liam is grimacing as he chugs a concoction that looks—and smells—like regret.

The dares and truths grow bolder with each round. Niall is dared to wear a pair of Louis’ socks on his hands for the next three turns, and Harry is forced to text a random selfie to Simon Cowell with no context.

Then, the bottle spins and lands on you.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, his tone playful but dangerous.

“Truth,” you say, playing it safe.

“Alright,” Louis says, tapping his chin in thought. “Who in this room would you say is your biggest crush?”

The laughter dies down instantly, replaced by an awkward but charged silence. Every set of eyes is on you, and your pulse spikes.

“I, uh…” you stammer, glancing around the room. Your gaze briefly meets Zayn’s, and his expression is unreadable, though his jaw seems slightly tense.

“Come on, spill it!” Niall says, grinning.

“I don’t think I have a crush on anyone here,” you say finally, forcing a laugh.

“Liar!” Harry declares, laughing as the others join in.

“Penalty!” Louis shouts gleefully, but before he can raid the fridge, Zayn spins the bottle, redirecting the attention.

It lands on him.

“Truth or dare, mate?” Niall asks, clearly eager to see what Zayn will pick.

Zayn leans back, his dark eyes flicking to you briefly before answering, “Truth.”

Niall doesn’t miss a beat. “Do you fancy anyone in this room?”

The tension ratchets up instantly, the laughter dissolving into a stunned silence. Zayn’s expression doesn’t falter as he shrugs casually. “Maybe.”

The group erupts into whoops and laughter, but your heart is pounding too loudly to join in. You glance at him, but he’s already spinning the bottle again, avoiding your gaze.

he game reaches a fever pitch when the bottle lands on you again.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, his grin mischievous.

“Dare,” you say, trying to maintain your composure.

“Perfect,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “I dare you to kiss…” He pauses dramatically, his gaze scanning the room before landing on Niall. “Horan!”

Niall bursts out laughing. “Why am I always the guinea pig?”

You groan, but a dare is a dare. You lean toward Niall, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as the group cheers and hollers.

“That was weak!” Harry teases, throwing a pillow at you.

“Not my fault you all love dramatics,” you quip back, though your cheeks burn when you notice Zayn watching you, his jaw tight and his hands gripping his knees.

The bottle spins again, this time landing on Louis.

“Truth or dare?” Harry asks.

“Dare, obviously,” Louis says.

Harry smirks. “I dare you to make this game even more interesting. Pick the person most likely to cause chaos if they had to sit in someone else’s lap for the rest of the game.”

Louis doesn’t hesitate. “That’s easy. You,” he says, pointing at you, “are going to sit in Zayn’s lap for the rest of the night.”

Your stomach flips, and the room explodes with laughter and cheers.

“I hate you all,” you mutter, but you rise to your feet.

Zayn doesn’t say anything as you settle onto his lap, his hands automatically move to your hips to steady you.

“Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Not even a little,” you reply, though your racing heart betrays you.

“Good,” he says softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds, “neither am I.”

The group’s teasing fades into the background as you sit there, hyperaware of every shift of his body against yours.

The game presses on, though your focus is barely on it. Sitting in Zayn’s lap has set your senses alight, and the casual banter and dares thrown around the room feel like a distant hum. His hands rest lightly on your hips, unmoving yet grounding, as if he’s careful not to cross a line.

You try not to think about how solid he feels beneath you or how his warmth radiates through your clothes, but it’s impossible to ignore the steady rhythm of his breathing against your back.

“Alright, who’s next?” Louis demands, spinning the bottle with reckless enthusiasm.

It lands on Harry, who smirks knowingly.

“Truth or dare?” Liam asks, already anticipating chaos.

“Dare,” Harry replies, lounging back dramatically.

“I dare you to…” Liam pauses, tapping his chin. “Post the worst photo of yourself from your camera roll to Instagram. No explanation allowed.”

The room explodes with laughter as Harry groans. “You’re evil,” he mutters, pulling out his phone.

“Come on, Haz, let’s see it!” Niall goads, leaning over to catch a glimpse.

Harry eventually finds a hideously unflattering selfie, complete with a double chin and poorly timed mid-blink. He uploads it with a grimace, and the group cheers as they refresh their feeds to confirm he went through with it.

As the bottle spins again, you shift slightly in Zayn’s lap, trying to find a more comfortable position. His hands tighten instinctively for a moment, steadying you, and the small action sends a jolt of heat through you.

“Sorry,” you whisper, glancing over your shoulder.

His dark eyes meet yours, and for a second, the noise of the room fades away. “You’re fine,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth.

The bottle lands on Niall this time, and the group quickly concocts another embarrassing dare involving a call to a takeaway restaurant, where he’s forced to serenade the person who answers.

You laugh along with the others, but your awareness of Zayn doesn’t waver. Every subtle shift, every brush of his fingers against your sides—it all feels deliberate, though you’re sure he’s as aware of the tension as you are.

“You alright back there?” Harry teases, his eyes flicking between you and Zayn.

“I’m fine,” you reply quickly, though your voice is higher than usual.

Zayn doesn’t respond, but the ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips as Harry spins the bottle again.

The next few rounds blur together in a mix of escalating dares and shameless truths. Niall is dared to eat a concoction of peanut butter and ketchup (which he does with minimal complaint), and Liam is forced to admit which of your songs he secretly likes more than the others.

When the bottle inevitably lands on you again, Louis perks up immediately.

“Truth or dare, love?” he asks, his grin all teeth.

“Dare,” you say, bracing yourself.

“Good choice,” Louis says, clapping his hands. “I dare you to…” He glances at Zayn for a split second, his grin widening. “...whisper something to Zayn that no one else in this room is allowed to hear.”

The group groans collectively, a mix of teasing and exasperation, but you feel the room’s energy shift again.

“Oh, come on, Louis,” Niall complains, though he’s clearly enjoying the show.

“Rules are rules,” Louis replies, feigning innocence.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart racing as you glance back at Zayn. His eyes are on you, steady and curious.

“Go on, then,” he says, his voice soft but laced with something you can’t quite place.

Taking a breath, you lean in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I think Louis is trying to get me killed,” you whisper, half-joking but entirely too aware of how close you are.

Zayn’s low chuckle vibrates through you, and when you pull back, his smile is more genuine than it’s been all night. “Wouldn’t let him,” he says simply, the weight of his words lingering.

The game continues, but the air between you and Zayn is different now—heavier, more charged. The others are oblivious, too busy laughing and shouting dares to notice how his hands rest more firmly on your waist now, how his fingers occasionally graze your sides as if testing the waters.

When the bottle spins and lands on Zayn, the group perks up.

“Truth or dare?” Harry asks, already grinning.

“Dare,” Zayn says easily, his tone steady.

“I dare you to… tell the truth about something,” Harry says, clearly trying to be clever.

“That’s not how dares work!” Niall protests, but Harry waves him off.

“It’s fine,” Zayn says, his gaze flicking to you briefly before he continues. “Alright. Truth about what?”

Harry thinks for a moment, then smirks. “Fine. Truth: Who in this room would you kiss right now if you could?”

The room explodes into chaos again, everyone shouting and hollering.

“Pick wisely!” Louis teases, though his eyes dart between you and Zayn with too much amusement.

Zayn doesn’t hesitate, his voice calm and steady as he answers, “Her.”

The room falls silent, and you feel every pair of eyes on you. Your cheeks burn as you meet Zayn’s gaze, his expression unflinching.

“Well, damn,” Harry mutters, breaking the tension with a laugh.

“Guess we know who’s playing favourites,” Louis quips, though his grin is wide.

The game continues, but it's clear that everything has shifted. Every moment feels like it's suspended in the air, charged with a quiet intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but Zayn. His hands never fully leave your waist, the weight of his touch lingering even when the room is filled with laughter and shouting. You try to ignore it, but every time he moves, his fingers graze your skin, sending a jolt of heat through you.

The group, as always, is oblivious—too busy egging each other on to notice the subtle shift in the dynamic. But Zayn and you? You both feel it.

Niall is laughing loudly at something Louis just said, but his eyes flick to you and Zayn every few seconds. Harry’s not much better, leaning in to whisper something to Liam while occasionally glancing between the two of you with that knowing smirk. Even Liam, usually the most serious of the group, seems oddly preoccupied, his gaze lingering on you and Zayn as if waiting for something to break.

You try to focus on the game, but it's difficult when every time you laugh, Zayn’s gaze holds yours a little longer, his lips curving into that small, knowing smile. When he speaks, it’s always just a little too close, his breath brushing against the back of your neck.

"Your turn," he says softly, nudging you lightly with his knee as the bottle spins to land on you again.

You blink, suddenly realizing everyone’s eyes are on you. "Right," you say, clearing your throat and forcing your voice to stay steady. “Truth or dare?”

You throw the question out almost absentmindedly, not quite able to look him in the eye, but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles, that infuriatingly attractive, cocky smile that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

"Dare," he says with a calm confidence that only makes the tension rise further.

You take a deep breath. "I dare you to… kiss the person closest to you."

The room goes deathly silent. The group stares at you with wide eyes, and even Zayn seems taken aback for a split second.

You feel your pulse quicken, but you try to keep your expression neutral. Everyone knows what’s happening here. This is the dare that will either shatter the tension or make it unbearable. You’ve just forced him into the ultimate move—or the ultimate escape.

Zayn shifts, his eyes glancing between you and the others, but his hand never leaves your waist. Slowly, he leans forward, and his breath skims the back of your neck. You can feel his lips against your skin as he leans in, his movements slow, deliberate.

You can’t breathe.

And then, just when you think he’s going to do it—kiss you—he pulls back.

The room collectively exhales, and you feel a strange sense of relief mixed with disappointment that you can’t explain. Zayn’s eyes never leave yours as he sits back, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Guess that’s not what you meant, is it?" he murmurs, voice hushed but teasing.

The others are grinning, trying to suppress laughter, but the atmosphere is still thick, charged with unspoken words. You force a laugh, though it feels tight in your chest.

"Guess not," you reply, trying to make the moment feel less heavy than it is.

But Zayn’s gaze remains steady, and you swear you can feel the weight of his stare even as the group moves on.

The next few rounds are a blur, the group cycling through dares and truths like clockwork, but the tension never quite dissipates. Niall and Louis are daring each other to do ridiculous things, but their laughter doesn’t quite reach you. You’re aware of every shift in Zayn’s body beneath you, the steady beat of his heart that you can almost feel through the thin fabric of his shirt.

You’re both playing it cool, but neither of you is fooling anyone.

Louis, ever the instigator, finally decides it’s time to push the envelope.

“Alright, alright,” he says loudly, his voice filled with amusement. “Enough games. We all know the two of you have been circling each other for months. It’s time to get this out in the open.”

You freeze. The room goes deathly silent again, and your stomach drops.

“What do you mean?” Zayn asks, his voice a mix of disbelief and something else—something raw.

“Oh, come on, mate,” Louis says, gesturing between you and Zayn like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone knows you two have been ridiculously obvious about it.”

The rest of the boys are grinning now, and you can feel Zayn’s eyes on you, but you can’t quite meet his gaze. Instead, you look at Louis, trying to muster some semblance of composure.

“Don’t you dare start, Louis,” you warn, but your voice comes out more breathless than you intended.

“Don’t try to act all innocent now,” Louis teases, his grin widening. “I see the way you two look at each other when no one’s looking. It’s been obvious since the first time you shared a bottle of tequila in Barcelona.”

You’re trying not to panic, but the words sting more than you’d expected. The others are still laughing, but Zayn’s expression remains unreadable. You can feel him shift beneath you, his body tense now, as if bracing for something.

“I think it’s time you two finally admit it,” Louis presses, his eyes flicking between you and Zayn. “Who’s going to say it first?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You know exactly what he’s trying to do—he’s pushing you to crack, to finally admit what everyone already knows.

But it’s harder than that.

You open your mouth to speak, but Zayn interrupts.

“I think it’s time you shut up, Tomlinson,” Zayn says, his voice sharper than it’s been all night. There’s an edge to it, something that makes everyone stop and look at him.

The room goes still, and for a second, everything hangs in the balance. Your heart races, and you realize that Zayn is staring at you now—really staring at you, like he’s trying to figure something out.

He’s not backing down, and neither are you. The challenge hangs in the air between you both, thicker than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Maybe I will,” Louis says, his grin faltering slightly. “But you two have to deal with the fallout.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. The game is forgotten, the laughter drowned out by the weight of unspoken words. And finally, it hits you—you can’t pretend anymore.

Not with him sitting so close. Not with everyone watching.

The air is thick with anticipation as Louis’ words hang in the room. The boys are all grinning, clearly enjoying the show, but there’s a nervous energy swirling between you and Zayn that refuses to let up.

You try to deflect, wanting to push the moment aside, but you can feel the heat of Zayn’s gaze like a physical touch. His eyes are locked on you, steady and intense, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to read you or if he’s just waiting for you to say something.

"Come on, Y/N," Niall teases, leaning forward. "You’ve gotta admit it’s pretty obvious."

Zayn shifts underneath you, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if he’s trying to anchor you both. You can feel his pulse beneath his skin, a soft thrum that matches your own, but you refuse to let yourself acknowledge the overwhelming need to close the distance between you.

"I think Zayn’s been giving us the silent treatment on purpose," Louis continues, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Trying to keep the mystery, eh?"

Zayn's lips curl up at the corners, but there’s no humor in it, only tension. His gaze flicks between you and Louis, and for a second, it feels like the whole room is holding its breath.

"Shut up, Louis," Zayn finally mutters, his voice deeper than before, more serious.

But Louis is relentless. “Oh, come on, mate, it’s obvious! We’re all practically begging for you two to finally admit what’s going on. I mean, it’s only a matter of time before—”

Before he can finish, Zayn moves, his hand sliding down to your hip and pulling you closer, just enough to make your breath catch. The action is so sudden, so deliberate, that you freeze, every nerve in your body awake to the heat and weight of him behind you.

“Enough,” Zayn says quietly, his voice a sharp contrast to the chaotic energy around you. He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks just for you. “If you want me to admit something, Y/N… maybe it’s time you say it first.”

The words hang in the air, impossibly close, like a dare but also an invitation. Your heart races in your chest, the sound of it nearly deafening in the silence that follows.

You don’t know what to say at first, your mind racing to catch up with what’s just happened. You’re suddenly painfully aware of how close Zayn is, of the way his breath moves against your skin, of the feeling of his body beneath you. Your palms are clammy against your knees as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you waiting for?” Zayn murmurs, his voice low and rough, his thumb tracing small circles on your side, the movement casual but deliberate.

You know he’s teasing, but there’s something else in his eyes—something vulnerable, something raw, like he’s finally ready for this to break, to get it out in the open. And God, do you want it too.

The room around you seems to vanish, the others’ teasing and joking falling away as you focus solely on Zayn. He’s no longer the same guy you’ve known for years—the one with the smirk and the quick jokes. He’s real now. Present. Vulnerable.

You feel yourself leaning in, barely noticing it, until your lips are dangerously close to his, so close that you can feel the heat between you. Your breath mingles with his, and you know that the teasing from the others has stopped, that this is no longer a game—it’s just you and Zayn.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you finally whisper, your words barely audible. “You know it’s not just me, right?”

He inhales sharply at your words, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second. “I’ve always known, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice almost a rasp. “I didn’t want to complicate things. But I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the room feels smaller, the world narrowing until it’s just the two of you, finally laying it out in the open. The tension between you—years of unspoken words, shared glances, moments of near-confession—finally breaking.

“I think we’ve been complicating it for too long,” you murmur, finally meeting his eyes with the full weight of your feelings.

Zayn exhales slowly, his lips curving into a small, almost relieved smile. “So… this is it then?” he asks, his voice quiet but teasing.

You nod, the uncertainty finally giving way to a quiet confidence. “Yeah, this is it.”

For a moment, everything feels still—like you’re both suspended in time. And then, with no more words left to say, Zayn closes the small distance between you, his lips crashing into yours with a gentleness that somehow makes everything feel even more intense.

It’s not like the games, not like the teasing. It’s slow, deep, and long-overdue. The kiss is everything you’ve been holding back, every moment of shared tension now unspooled, leaving nothing but honesty in its wake.

When Zayn pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing a little faster now, your hands still tangled in the fabric of his shirt.

“I think this is going to make things a little less complicated,” Zayn says, his voice soft, his smile crooked but genuine.

You laugh softly, unable to help yourself. “Yeah. I think it will.”.

But just as the weight of your confession settles between you, the world around you comes rushing back. The others are staring at you both—gaping, wide-eyed, and grinning.

Louis is the first to speak, breaking the stunned silence. “Well, finally,” he says with a teasing smirk, though there’s something more sincere in his voice now. “We’ve all been waiting for that for ages.”

Niall, who’s been watching with a goofy grin on his face, lets out a soft chuckle. “Couldn’t have made it more obvious if you tried,” he adds, nudging Liam, who’s sitting next to him. “I mean, come on. The way you two look at each other? Ridiculous.”

Liam’s still looking at you and Zayn, his eyes wide and full of disbelief. “So, you’re really…?” His voice trails off, but his smile says it all. There’s something warm, supportive, in his tone, though it’s clear he’s still processing everything.

“You guys are a joke,” Harry finally says, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “We all knew. You’ve been driving us crazy for months now.” He grins, leaning back and crossing his arms. “But I have to admit, I’m kind of relieved. Now we don’t have to watch you two tiptoe around each other anymore.”

The others are laughing, and it’s clear they’re not laughing at you or Zayn, but with you both. There’s no judgment, no teasing edge to their words—only amusement and a sense of satisfaction that the tension between you and Zayn has finally been lifted.

“You two seriously need to stop with the subtle flirting,” Louis adds, his voice full of teasing affection. “It was cute at first, but now it’s just painful to watch.”

You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. It’s a relief to know that the boys aren’t upset or shocked, that they’re not seeing this as something that will ruin the dynamic of the group. They’ve all seen it, too—the way Zayn and you have always gravitated toward each other, the way you’ve always been in sync. And now, it’s finally out in the open.

Zayn squeezes your waist again, and you smile at the small, private gesture. His hand feels natural there, like it’s always been meant to be.

"Couldn’t agree more," Zayn says, his voice still a little rough, but now filled with a quiet confidence. He looks at the boys with a grin. “I think I’ve been pretty patient about it. Don’t you?”

The boys all laugh again, and for a second, you feel like you’re all just a group of friends again—no more tension, no more uncertainty. Just the bond you’ve always shared, now stronger than ever.

“Yeah, definitely,” Harry says, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I think we’re all just glad you finally figured it out.”

Niall raises his glass, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “To Zayn and Y/N, finally getting their act together,” he says, his voice light but sincere.

The group laughs and raises their drinks, and you can feel the weight of their support and love, even as the teasing continues. It’s a strange relief, knowing that this won’t change anything. It won’t mess up the group dynamic. In fact, it feels like the opposite.

“We should’ve just made it a dare,” Louis adds, his grin still wide. “I mean, we all knew it was inevitable.”

Zayn rolls his eyes but leans back against the couch, his hand never leaving your side. “Yeah, Louis, well… sometimes it’s better when you let things happen on their own.”

“Sure, sure,” Louis says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever you say, mate.”

You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. It’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. There’s no more guessing, no more second-guessing every look or touch. You and Zayn are finally on the same page.

“So, now that that’s out of the way,” Harry says, breaking the moment with a wide grin, “what’s next for you two?”

You glance at Zayn, who’s looking back at you with a quiet smile on his face. “Maybe we can start by not pretending we’re not into each other?” you suggest playfully, earning a laugh from the group.

Zayn nods, his hand now resting comfortably around your shoulders. “Sounds good to me.”

And just like that, the boys are back to their usual selves—teasing, joking, and enjoying the rare moment of peace between them. But even with the lighthearted banter around you, you can’t help but feel a sense of calm. Everything feels right now. You and Zayn have finally crossed that line, and the world feels like it’s just a little bit more in sync.

Louis, Niall, Liam, and Harry all exchange knowing glances, their grins never fading, and you can tell this moment will be one you’ll look back on with a smile. Maybe it was a long time coming, but now that it’s out in the open, nothing will ever be the same—and somehow, that feels just perfect.

[goodlucktai]

17 with rise b-team?

dialogue prompts

17. “How many fingers am I holding up? ... I don't have six fingers.” 

x

“Ohmigosh!” Mikey scrambles down the fire escape with half of his usual grace—which is to say, not much—and lands with a clumsy splash next to Donnie’s boneless sprawl. “Donald, you hit the ground so hard pops probably heard it at home. Are you okay?”

Donnie makes a noise that just sounds like eeuuugrrgghheeuugh. Rainwater is seeping into him from all sides thanks to the puddle he landed in. Normally, he would be making this everyone’s problem by now. The fact that he’s just kind of laying there like he’s given up on life is really worth freaking out about. 

Worried, Mikey tugs frantically at the shoulder of Donnie’s jacket until he opens his eyes, then demands, “How many fingers am I holding up?” 

Squinting at him, Donatello thinks about it for a moment, then announces, “Six.”

“I don’t have six fingers!” Mikey shrieks, the peace sign he’s still holding up an inappropriately cheerful gesture for the current situation. 

His big brother scrambles upright at that, his wooden expression falling away and sheer panic flashing across his face instead. 

“What in Lovelace’s name do you mean you don’t have—”

Mikey lifts his left hand in its bright yellow short arm cast. They both look at it, and then Donnie puts his face in his hand without speaking in a way that manages to speak volumes. 

“You’re the one who told me to pretend like my broken hand wasn’t even there!” Mikey says defensively.

“Yes, because Nardo will hunt me for sport if you make that break any worse while I’m directly responsible for you.”

Drawing himself up to his full height, which isn’t remarkable on a good day and even less-so when he’s kneeling in the rainy mush of a Brooklyn alleyway, Mikey grits out, “I’m not a baby. I don’t need supervision.”

“Counterpoint, you are a baby and you do need supervision,” Donatello says dryly, heaving himself up off the ground. The battle shell absorbed the brunt of the impact, designed to protect his spine in pretty much every conceivable scenario, but he still looks like he feels pretty sore after that dramatic fall. He puts his hand out for Mikey to take, but Mikey sulks at him and ignores it. “Michael, I just watched you do a handspring off the railing of a sixth-story fire escape. 

“Yeah and it was sick.” 

Or it would have been, if not for the rusted joints that gave beneath roughly one hundred and fifty pounds of ninja turtle. Donnie’s last-minute save was sick as hell, though. 

He didn’t think twice before grabbing Mikey and hauling him onto the safety of the solid rooftop, using himself as a counterweight to pull it off. He wasn’t wearing the battleshell that could fly or turn into spiderlegs, because they were doing a junkyard run and he wanted the one with extra storage space instead. He knew he’d fall, he’s too smart not to have run all those calculations in the split-second he had, but he didn’t miss a beat. 

Mikey doesn’t like that Don almost got hurt helping him. It sours his righteous annoyance a little. And it also lessens his argument by a lot. 

“There are four of us, which divides neatly into two halves of two,” Donatello says patiently. “Two of us who are older, and two of us who are younger. You are firmly in the younger half. If it makes you feel any better, our fearless leader is, too. Why do you think Raph refuses to let him out of his sight while his leg is in that brace? You’re both the babies.”

“Bet you wouldn’t say that to his face,” Mikey mutters, but it does make him feel better, so he lets Donnie haul him to his feet. 

And Donnie was right about more than that, because the second they meet up with Raph and Leo, Leonardo demands, “Miguelito, what did you do?”

As one, Donnie and Mikey look down at his cast—which, okay, which has a thin crack down the middle. Presumably from when Mikey landed on the roof after Donnie’s Hail Mary throw. How did Leo even see it from way over there? 

Donnie starts to look hunted even before Leo whirls on him and says, “You had one job, Tello—make sure his razz stayed un-tazzed!” 

“That is easily a three-turtle operation and there is only one of me!”

Since the twins can go on for ages once they really get started, Mikey drifts over to Raph, offering his biggest brother his best smile. Raph smiles back like a knee-jerk reaction, reaching over to rub Mikey’s head affectionately.

“Have fun, big man?”

“Yep!” Mikey says sweetly. “Donnie will probably tell you some crazy story about acrobatics on a rooftop, but you know how he likes to exaggerate when Leo eggs him on. We had a totally lowkey junk run. Can we get Crazyshakes on the way home?”

Raphie’s not stupid, but he has three very significant blind spots, and they’re all little-brother-shaped. He softens completely and lifts Mikey up to sit in place of pride on his shoulders, tall enough to see all of Manhattan. Then he passes up his phone, even though Mikey totally would have ordered the shakes on his!

He’ll never not complain about being one of the babies, but he has to admit—just to himself, in secret—that there are definitely some perks. 

“Make sure you get that shortcake one for Leon,” Raphie says offhandedly. “He’s been on a strawberry kick recently.”

Part of Mikey wants to roll his eyes at this additional bit of proof that Donnie is constantly right about everything. The much larger part of him just feels warm and sweet and cared for.

He wraps his arm around Raph’s head and squeezes, as much of a hug as he can manage with the phone in one hand and the other in a cast, and adds all four of their favorites to the order. The twins’ argument bounces off the alley walls around them, both of them on the verge of laughter by now and trying not to be the one who breaks first.

Mikey normally isn’t very fond of rainy days, but this one he wouldn’t mind living in. 

[thepersonnamedsam]

headcanons of the genz!driver

pairing: the genz!driver

summary: some cute and chaotic headcanons of the genz!driver

warnings: none :)

note: we love ourselves a chaotic queen

masterlist / taglist

we all know that a 18/19 year old will cause chaos on the grid, much more even if she is allowed to be there and not get evicted

like there was this one time, where she snook into the drivers conference, she was late, as usual, and instead of being silent and unnoticed, she let the door fall shut loudly and announced her great entry with: „welcome my fellow drivers, the best one has arrived and will grace your presence from now on. please, do not stop the meeting on my behalf, i am just here to look pretty.“

or there was a time when the FIA announced that no bikes on the track were allowed anymore and what do you think, at the next race, she arrived with her super fancy bike, blasting bicycle from queen singing the lyrics and riding her bike around the track, obviously

we love ourselves a confident queen

and she is so relatable

like, she posts vlogs on youtube of her life, stuff with a day at the paddock or a day outside the paddock and look, even though she is famous, her life is so relatable

she can’t drive, (seb learned it with her though), she struggles with her hair, almost every day, doing normal stuff is really hard because of mental health problems, her anxiety sparks in situations she doesn’t know, her jokes are weird and dark and almost no one understands them. it’s like she is almost a normal teenager

young fans, female ones especially, look up to her so much, just because she is honest, shares her struggles and is so supportive about it. depression and anxiety are valid and is not something to hide, it’s okay to struggle and she talks so openly about it. fans absolutely adore her and because of her, some find inspiration to do stuff they wouldn’t have done normally

so many young girls started karting because of her, she believes in everyone of them and is sure that they can make it big

lewis and seb are so proud of her, seeing her inspire so many people, makes them feel so so proud. seb has seen her grow up and has helped all the way from karting to formula 1

we all know that seb is the worrying one and always urges her to be careful. but lewis, oh lewis does stuff with her, that if seb actually knew what it was, he would die of a heart attack

he took her to go skydiving once, having her swear not to tell seb or lando, because he would so tell everyone else and seb would instantly know

or the one time let her have a drink with him when she was still underage, psst don’t tell seb

lewis is the cool grid dad, that lets her do stuff that she shouldn’t, always supervised though

because if you let her unsupervised, she is pure chaos

the one time her and lando got left alone, they had to get rescued by george

lando‘s car broke down

and not broke down like it just stopped working

no, his fiat jolly fell down, it laid on its side, on her side to be specific. lando and you were doing stupid stuff, putting all the weight on one side to see how much it would take to overthrow the car

it didn’t take much…

when seb found out, he didn’t let her out if his sight, always making sure she wasn’t doing something stupid that could get her injured

when seb retired, she cried like a baby. she was not sure what to do without him on the paddock, who would make sure she wouldn’t die? who made sure she was drinking enough and eating probably (it was a bit dramatic, because her personal trainer was doing that aspect of her life and not seb).

but still, she would miss seb, she would miss him a lot

that’s where danny comes, seeing her so lost and struggling, he kind of swept into her life as an older grid brother

helping her with stuff and being protective

he was not as great as seb or lewis, who is still the fun grid dad, but danny did his best

she is so happy to have all those people around her

and she is forever grateful and tries to let them know how grateful she is, but sometimes it backfires a bit

like the time she tried to gift all of them something for christmas

oh that was chaos

what do you gift 19 drivers, all at least 4 years older than her, something for christmas that is personal for them and her?

lance got alcohol, he was happy about it

she got lando some socks, he wasn’t sure why

alex got hair dye, made sense

she gifted max a stuffed lion, which he was actually happy about

but george got a shirt with a naked torso on it… she found it hilarious, he not so much

charles got a ‚sorry that your team is shit‘ bracelet

carlos got a chilli tree and a hard copy of smooth operator

zhou got a book of all of lewis‘ paddock looks

lewis got a whole gift basket with vegan stuff and toys for roscoe and a day with her

and many other weird gifts, but it shows that she is so grateful of all the people around her

we know that she always gives her best and that’s the most she can do

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23

[alacants]

Ok ok I have a scenario. What happens if carlos alcaraz doesn't happen. Like what would happen if this big blinding ball of energy and sunshine, magic kid and saviour of tennis and whatever just didn't exist. WHAT happens then???

you KNOW i love a good What If!

i mean what carlos did was drive the bleeding edge of the youngest generation right up against the fading end of the big four era. like roger announcing his retirement 4 days after carlitos won his first slam is really something. that i didn't put together until just this minute. (yeah the writing was on the wall but let me have my NARRATIVE.) 

so without carlos, maybe someone's doing that but maybe not. maybe the 90s kids who've been smothered their whole careers get to breathe?? a couple extra years in the sun before the shadow of jannik sinner descends??

i mean OR MAYBE NOT maybe jannik wins that uso qf and goes all the way. (rip casper.) but tbh i think that even if he does it wouldn't be quite as much of a shock to the system—the three years of up and downs from 2019 to 2022 soften the effect into a more natural progression. as opposed to carlos rolling up to win his first 500, masters, and major—TWO majors—all in the same year. this fucking kid lmao. so maybe jannik (or holger! or someone else!) steps in and takes some of carlos' titles, but even if that happens i bet you anything the impact is less paralyzing and the mid-gen still manage to like. rack up some results. believe in themselves. lmao.

and for that matter, that's if we assume jannik develops similarly to irl—i'm sort of intrigued by the counterfactual where jannik doesn't make the jump from piatti quite so quickly. like, he's EOY top 10, he's won some titles, so what if he isn't beating medvedev or tsitsipas or rafole or making it past the early slam rounds, neither is anyone else his age. yet.

having said that i don't think the dissatisfaction jannik felt with where things stood in early 2022 had all that much to do with the presence or absence of carlos in particular (who was also not doing most of those things yet) so for now we'll set that aside. 

anyway so. without carlos, the big rivalry among the younguns is jannik and holger. hahahahaha. and, look, i bet it's not as thorny as it is irl because you don't have the ready-made big three comparisons, holger is probably way better adjusted??? yeah i'm thinking this is who the big winner of a carlosless universe is. holger rune. jannik is (at first) an attainable level of rival and it's not like there's someone else leaving both of them in the dust! meanwhile holger-novak becomes the djokoraz of this universe. and without carlos who was literally born to be a media beloved, holger's the next-best material—like yeah he's ~dramatic and ~controversial but he gives them more than jannik. so what you have is ljfkldajf janholger is the new fedal. no, the new rafole. help i can't stop laughing. i hope jannik is visited by a dream vision of this universe someday.

M E A N W H I L E what is happening at the juan carlos ferrero tennis academy? i mean, it's a normal tennis academy. juanki has a normal job cultivating the youth. it is a little bit crazy to think of the effect that carlos had on juanki's stature and career. like otherwise juanki has the zverev experience and is like oh HELL no—or. hm. actually this is a different and fascinating question, ha, was juanki itching to get back into top-level tennis badly enough that even after getting burned by the zverev experience he would have given it another shot with a non-carlos player. or would it have redirected him definitively back to the academy. 

…….this train of thought is colliding with the discarded counterfactual above + the tidbit that jannik allegedly almost went to rafa nadal academy to produce an outcome that from a pure storytelling perspective i should have anticipated yet somehow didn't see coming. hope you enjoyed witnessing the thought process in real time.

RIGHT so what happens if carlos alcaraz doesn't exist is: juanki coaches jannik to a gripping career rivalry with holger rune. TA DA.

/user alacants out