#would you believe that ‘two intense lights right next to each other’ is something that is challenging to draw

[takimakiiiii]

chicken shop date - LN4 x reader

synopsis!: lando is invited to join you on your dating show but who knows whether it'll be awkward or whether everything will go smoothly?

wc!: 4.9k!! (sorta short lol)

Part 2 is here!

pairing!: lando norris x fem!reader

includes!: A LOT of fluff, mutual flirting, a little bit of swearing, heavy use of y/n, 3rd person perspective, playful banter

a/n: this is heavily inspired by amelia dimoldenberg's chicken shop date that you can find on youtube. i absolutely loved the episode with lando but i thought it he was super shy and awkward so i wrote this as an if he wasn't so shy and was flirting back. i also stole some of the comments from the andrew garfield episode because that comment section is GOLD. anyways enjoy! xx

2 days later. . .

Now Playing: LANDO NORRIS | CHICKEN SHOP DATE

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

The camera lingers on Y/N and Lando, the soft hum of the shop filling the background as they sit across from each other at a small, worn table. The lighting is warm, almost golden, casting a cozy glow over the scene. Behind them, the counter is lined with empty glasses and in front of them a bowl of chips—forgotten, untouched, as if it’s a mere prop in the moment unfolding between the two of them.

There’s something almost cinematic about the way their gazes lock, intense and unblinking, concentration at its finest. It could almost be romantic—the way they’re sitting there, their eyes caught in a dance of curiosity and something deeper—but there’s a playful edge to the atmosphere. Neither of them seems entirely sure what will happen next. The air is light with unspoken tension, the kind of tension that makes every little thing seem charged, like a game they’re both trying to figure out.

Their smiles are wide, almost too wide, but neither of them seems to mind. It’s the kind of smile that speaks volumes—something just beyond the surface, an invitation for more. Suddenly, the silence is broken by Lando’s voice, gleeful and loud. “HA! You blinked!” He leans back in his chair, letting it rock on two legs, his eyes practically gleaming with the thrill of victory. Y/N freezes for a beat, her gaze still locked with his. There’s a flicker of disbelief, like she can’t quite believe he’s actually won, but it fades as a laugh escapes her. “You’re such a cheater,” she says, the words dripping with playful accusation.

The camera shifts, zooming in on her face. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes twinkling with the mix of annoyance and amusement. Her body leans slightly forward; her arms crossed loosely in a challenge. Lando shakes his head, an exaggerated expression of mock indignation overtaking his features. His grin widens as he holds up both hands in a “What can I say?” gesture. “Nuh-uh, I won. Fair and square.”

Y/N can’t stop the smile creeping across her face, though she rolls her eyes dramatically, as if she’s trying to resist the pull of his grin. “Yuh-huh,” she mutters under her breath, her voice laced with sarcastic sweetness.

And then Lando cracks up. The sound fills the small space between them—loud, genuine, like it’s something only they can understand. There’s a moment where their laughter overlaps, both of them caught in the same private joke. Neither of them bothers to explain it. It’s just theirs, a moment shared in a way that feels impossibly right.

Her eyes narrow, but there’s more mischief behind the look now. She leans in, just a little, her gaze never wavering from his. “That’s exactly what a cheater would say,” she says, her tone low and teasing. She throws the accusation across the table like a challenge, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table.

Lando's face morphs into a grin that’s too playful to be taken seriously, his eyes dancing with an unspoken dare. “Well, that’s exactly what a sore loser would say,” he fires back without missing a beat. There’s something about the way he says it—his voice just a little too sweet, the challenge thick in the air—that makes her want to laugh and argue at the same time.

Without warning, Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, the movement playful but with a sharp edge, like she’s daring him to say something more. The action feels charged, innocent and mischievous all at once. And as she pulls back, she can’t help but notice the way his eyes flicker, as if something in him is waiting for her to make the next move.

The camera cuts abruptly, a moment cut off too soon.

♡

"Alright, I’ve got a question for you," Y/N says, her tone light, but there’s something in the way she places her hands on the table that suggests this isn’t just another throwaway moment. The faintest pink blush spreads across her cheeks, and a grin tugs at her lips, betraying her attempt at seriousness.

"Oh yeah?" Lando raises an eyebrow, the teasing glint in his eyes already giving away that he’s curious but expecting something a little out of the ordinary. His smile stretches just a bit wider, the corners of his mouth lifting as if he’s already bracing for whatever quirky response Y/N is about to throw at him.

There’s a flicker of something in Y/N’s eyes—something that’s almost too quick to catch. Maybe it's nerves, maybe it's excitement, or maybe it's just the moment itself pulling them both deeper into the unspoken tension between them. Whatever it is, it doesn’t escape Lando’s notice. She shifts in her seat, a little more composed now, but still with that undeniable edge of playful energy. "What’s your greatest goal?" she asks, the question floating in the air between them, serious for once.

Lando pauses, his lips pressing together as he thinks. For a moment, he seems lost in his thoughts, as if weighing his answer carefully, but then he shrugs a little—relaxed, even if his eyes are still searching for the right words. "Win a championship, you know. That’d be nice." His gaze drifts off for a moment, but then a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, and maybe beat Carlos in chess for once."

Y/N nods, her expression thoughtful, but there’s a spark of understanding in her eyes. She can’t help but smile a little too, the weight of the conversation already lifting. "I see, okay," she says softly, as if she’s already letting the moment slip away, but it lingers in the air—this brief pause of seriousness.

Lando watches her closely, his gaze narrowing with an almost knowing look. He leans forward slightly, like he’s expecting something. "What about you?" he asks, his voice playful, but there's that tiny bit of curiosity woven in. Without missing a beat, Y/N meets his gaze, her smile widening as if she’s been waiting for this exact question. "To be 6ft," she replies, her tone deadpan but with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Lando almost chokes on his laugh, but he quickly suppresses it, his lips quirking into a smile that refuses to hide. "Oh, really?" he feigns surprise, leaning back just slightly, playing along with her harmless game. "That’s your greatest goal?"

Y/N nods vigorously, her eyes shining with an almost childlike determination. "Yep, I mean, just imagine—turning the tables so you'd be the one looking up at me, instead of the other way around." She shrugs, her playful smirk showing that she’s more than just teasing now. It’s the kind of confidence that only comes when someone’s comfortable enough to say something so ridiculous, yet so endearing.

Lando chuckles, the sound light and genuine. "Yeah? I think I prefer it this way, though," he says, shaking his head with a grin that says he’s not about to let her win this one so easily. Y/N rolls her eyes dramatically, though she can’t stop the laugh bubbling up inside her. "No, but seriously—imagine the flex. A tall girlfriend? That’d be legendary," she adds, her tone playful but with just enough conviction to make it seem like she’s really giving it some thought.

Lando leans forward again, his grin widening at the turn the conversation has taken. "Oh? Girlfriend, already? Isn't this our first date?" He raises an eyebrow.

Y/N doesn’t miss a beat, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I like to move quickly in relationships. You might want to take notes," she says, the words light but with an edge that’s both teasing and confident.

"Duly noted," Lando responds with a quick nod, his voice dripping with playful sincerity. But just as the moment feels like it could get too serious, Y/N breaks character, her laughter spilling out of her like an unexpected burst of sunshine. She presses her sleeve to her face, trying to stifle the giggles, but the effort only makes her laugh harder.

Lando watches her with an affectionate smile, the whole exchange leaving an unmistakable warmth between them—something light and effortless, but undeniably real before the camera cuts.

♡

“Kiss, marry, kill… are you ready?” Y/N asks, her voice flat and expression deadpan. Her gaze is steady, and there's a certain gleam in her eye that suggests she’s not playing around, despite her casual tone. Lando freezes for a moment, blinking as though she’s just thrown him into a sudden storm. The look on his face is a mix of surprise and confusion, like a deer caught in headlights. But curiosity quickly overtakes him, and he nods, clearly intrigued but also a little wary. “Okay… go,” he says, his voice tinged with both hesitation and anticipation.

Y/N doesn’t miss a beat. “Kiss, marry, kill: Oscar, Carlos, and me.”

Lando’s reaction is immediate—he collapses back into his chair, clutching his stomach as a burst of hysterical laughter escapes him. It’s loud and unrestrained, like he’s just been hit with the most absurd punchline of all time.

But Y/N remains unmoved, her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression unwavering. She throws her hands up in the air, frustration edging her voice. “I’m being serious! This is an important topic that needs to be addressed!”

Lando’s laughter slowly dies down, but the grin never quite leaves his face. He raises both hands in mock surrender, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Hang on! Hang on!” He presses his palms together like he’s deep in thought, as though the weight of this decision requires every ounce of his mental energy. “I’m thinking.”

Y/N sighs internally, a familiar and tired gesture. She resists the urge to roll her eyes—again—her finger tapping against the table in a slow, rhythmic beat, as though she’s waiting for him to get it together. She can practically hear the tick of the clock in the background.

"Okay, wait, I got it," Lando says suddenly, sitting up straighter in his chair. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing in what can only be described as mock concern. “Wait… no, I don’t want to have to kiss either of you guys.” He scrunches his face up, clearly not thrilled by the prospect.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. "Wow, and here I was thinking you'd be more concerned with who you'd have to kill."

Lando doesn’t skip a beat. "Well, that’s an easy one. You, for sure." He shrugs casually as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N’s jaw drops in exaggerated shock. “Me? Well, I’m offended,” she gasps dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if he’s just stabbed her emotionally. She wipes away an imaginary tear for good measure, her tone dripping with mock hurt.

Lando rolls his eyes at the performance. “It’s called flirting, Y/N,” he says, deadpan, though his lips twitch upward.

Y/N smirks, clearly unfazed by his response. “Well, you’re not very good at it,” she retorts, her voice thick with sass. There’s no hiding the playful edge in her tone, but also no missing the fact that she’s not taking this seriously—she’s enjoying every second of it.

Lando bites back a laugh, but it’s obvious from the way his cheeks flush that her words have gotten to him. “Okay, well, I could say the same thing about you,” he deflects, leaning back a little in his chair, his arms crossed defensively.

Y/N arches an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "Sure, Lando.”

Lando looks straight at the camera, his face now the picture of exaggerated deadpan. He gives it a slow, knowing look, as though he's on an episode of The Office. The camera cuts just as he’s about to crack, leaving a lingering sense of humour in the air.

♡

"What's your go-to line? You know, when you're asking people out?" Lando asks, his voice taking on a playful tone, like he’s now the one in charge of the conversation. It feels like the roles have completely reversed, and he’s the one interrogating Y/N, as if he’s suddenly the expert on relationships.

Y/N pauses for a moment, clearly weighing the question. She tilts her head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she considers her answer. “I don’t really have one,” she says, her voice casual, almost nonchalant. “I just sort of look at them and hope that they’re braver than I am.”

Lando’s eyes light up with interest, clearly not satisfied with such a vague answer. “Okay, but how do you look at them?” He leans forward, his hands resting on the table as he eyes her like a curious detective. “C’mon, I need details.”

Y/N raises her hands in protest, then immediately bursts into laughter, the sound bright and infectious. She leans back in her chair, shoulders shaking as she tries to contain her amusement. Lando, on the other side of the table, is wiggling his eyebrows in exaggerated motion, clearly trying to make this into something ridiculous.

“Like this? Or is it more like this?” he asks, giving a dramatic wink in her direction, and the sheer ridiculousness of it makes Y/N’s eyes widen in disbelief. Her laughter grows louder; her face flushed from both amusement and the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“No!” she gasps between fits of laughter, barely able to catch her breath. “If that’s how you pick up girls, I feel bad for them. You look like you’re constipated or something.”

Lando’s face falls in mock pain as if she’s actually physically wounded him. “Okay, ouch,” he says, wincing like she’s just landed a punch right to his ego. His hand presses dramatically to his chest, as though trying to recover from the blow.

Y/N grins, her expression turning teasing as she looks at him with mock sympathy. “Sorry, someone had to let you know.” She throws him a playful, exaggerated sympathetic glance, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I appreciate your honesty,” Lando nods solemnly, his face adopting a mock-serious expression, though the hint of a smile is barely contained.

“You’re welcome,” Y/N replies, the sarcasm dripping from her voice, but there's something in her tone that’s genuinely warm beneath the teasing.

Lando leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, looking as if he’s about to offer some unsolicited advice. “No, but I think that’s good, you know? Staring at someone creepily from the other side of the room…” he trails off, nodding as if he’s figured it all out, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Y/N exhales sharply, the sound half exasperated, half amused. “Okay, asshat, it’s not like that.” She shifts slightly in her seat, clearly about to set the record straight. “It’s like this…” she says, her voice softening as she looks at him.

In an instant, the playful banter between them fades away. Y/N locks eyes with Lando, her gaze intense, focused, and completely unbroken. The shift in energy is palpable, almost magnetic, as though the entire world around them has melted away. Even the camera crew seems to hold their breath, unsure whether they’re witnessing something deeper or just a clever game between friends.

The moment stretches, lingering, neither of them breaking the gaze, their eyes speaking volumes that words can’t quite capture. There’s a sweetness in the silence—endearing, even. They’re just two people caught in something unspoken, something real in the quiet between them.

Y/N finally breaks the silence, her voice low and teasing. “Is it working?” she asks, her lips curling up into the smallest of smiles, eyes still locked on his.

Lando’s throat goes dry, and for a moment, he’s completely flustered. His words stumble over themselves, like he’s struggling to find his balance after the intensity of the gaze. “Yes—no, yeah, I can see that working. What’s your success rate so far?” His words come out in a jumbled mess, his neck flushing a deep red as his usual confidence falters under the weight of the moment.

Y/N, still holding the teasing glint in her eyes, leans in just slightly. “I don’t know, you tell me,” she says, the playful challenge still present in her tone.

Lando hesitates for a moment, clearly caught in the spell of the conversation. “100%,” he finally declares, his voice filled with a mix of playful confidence and something softer beneath it, like he’s genuinely caught off guard by the chemistry between them.

The camera cuts before Y/N can react.

♡

"You can only save one," Y/N says dramatically, holding out both hands as if she’s about to present him with a life-altering decision. “A puppy or a kitten. Which one are you saving?”

Lando freezes, his eyes widening in horror, like she’s just asked him to choose between his own limbs. “Okay, well this is just unfair,” he says, his voice dripping with mock betrayal. His lower lip juts out in a dramatic pout, as if he’s already the victim of some great injustice.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her tone unwavering. “You have to pick one.”

Lando’s face crumples as if the weight of the decision might crush him. “No, I can’t,” he whines, flailing his hands in the air dramatically. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be!” Y/N lets out a long sigh, clearly bored of the theatrics. She picks up a fry from the plate in front of her casually, like the fate of two helpless animals isn’t hanging in the balance. “Just pick one already,” she mutters, eyeing him with mild annoyance.

Lando leans back in his chair, his face scrunched in concentration as if he’s making the toughest decision of his life. “Okay… the puppy,” he finally says, almost reluctantly, as if he’s just betrayed a sacred pact. From across the table, Y/N gasps dramatically, clutching her chest as though he’s just committed the ultimate crime. “You’re a monster,” she says, her voice teetering between mock outrage and genuine shock.

Lando’s eyes widen as if he’s just been slapped. “Wait, no! I didn’t mean it like that,” he backpedals, panic setting in. “Okay, okay, fine—then the kitten.” He raises his hands in defeat, clearly hoping this will solve everything. Y/N glares at him, arms crossed with a smug satisfaction. “So, you’d just let the puppy die? Wow, you’re heartless.” She shakes her head slowly, the disappointment practically radiating off of her.

Lando looks at the camera crew behind the lens as though they might somehow come to his rescue. “What!? This is so unfair,” he whines, gesturing wildly for support. “I think you’re the real monster here.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her voice sweet but laced with sarcasm. “You really know how to flatter a person on a first date.” She pulls a sour face; her eyes narrowed in judgment.

Lando shrugs dramatically, rolling his eyes in the most exaggerated way possible. “Says the professional manipulator,” he fires back, smirking triumphantly—but then he immediately regrets it as he sees her narrowing eyes.

Y/N folds her arms, her gaze turning icy, the perfect picture of judgment. “What did you just call me?” she asks, her tone low and dangerously amused.

Lando takes a sip of his drink, trying to regain his composure—but it’s already too late. Y/N’s staring at him like she’s about to deliver the final blow. Lando winces, nearly choking on his drink. “Too far, I’m sorry,” he admits, holding up a hand in apology, though the mischief in his eyes betrays him.

“Yeah, that’s right, be sorry,” Y/N says with a satisfied smile, crossing her arms smugly. Lando, trying to regain some ground, mimics her earlier words in a high-pitched voice. “You really know how to flatter someone on a first date,” he says, holding his hands up defensively as if he’s the victim now.

Y/N glares at him, her eyes narrow and unyielding. “Your words, not mine,” he adds quickly, but the tension evaporates as soon as the words leave his mouth. It’s clear they’re both just enjoying the banter, and it’s impossible not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

The atmosphere lightens as they both burst out laughing, the infectious sound filling the space between them. The camera captures the moment, lingering on their laughter, as if the whole world is invited into the little bubble they’ve created. The camera cuts, but this time, it’s a softer transition—no harshness, no rush. It’s just a brief, perfect pause, leaving the warmth of the moment hanging in the air.

♡

"Okay, important question," Y/N says, leaning forward slightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she casually pops a hot chip into her mouth. “What would you rate your flirting skills out of 10?”

Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. “Okay, wait, let me think,” he mumbles, his hand rising to his chin like he’s pondering the meaning of life itself. The silence stretches on for a moment too long, and Y/N raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Do you usually take this long to think about things?” she asks, her voice dripping with judgment, though the amusement is obvious.

Lando leans back in his chair, feigning deep contemplation. “Do you usually insult people as a way of flirting?” he shoots back, leaning forward with a mock serious expression. They exchange a quick glance, a silent challenge hanging in the air. Y/N can’t help but play along. “Was it that obvious?” she responds, her grin widening as she leans back into her chair, ready for whatever comes next.

Lando can’t hold back a grin of his own. “Yes,” he says, shaking his head as if he’s just seen the greatest performance of the evening. “Okay, I got it,” he announces, his posture shifting as he places his hands dramatically in front of him, ready to drop his verdict.

“Alright, I’m all ears,” Y/N replies, clapping her hands together, leaning back as if settling in for the most epic answer she’s about to hear.

“A solid 12,” Lando begins, his voice full of confidence. “But I subtract 5 points for social anxiety, and another 2 for sweating through my shirt.” He shrugs as if this is the most reasonable answer anyone could give. Y/N raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “I find the social anxiety part hard to believe,” she teases, a playful challenge in her voice.

Lando shrugs again, his grin never fading. “Me too,” he admits, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N takes a sip of her drink, still processing the absurdity of his response. “So… you're like a solid 5?” she concludes, lowering the cup from her lips. Lando, without missing a beat, nods in agreement. “Yeah, but like a confident, aggressive, average 5,” he explains, leaning back as if he’s just made the most profound statement of all time.

Y/N nearly spits her drink out, her eyes wide with disbelief. She sets her drink down with dramatic flair. “That’s the most honest thing a man’s ever said to me,” she says coolly, as if she’s just heard a confession of the highest order.

Lando smirks, clearly unbothered. “Wow, that’s not concerning at all,” he hums, the sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

Y/N leans in with a wicked grin. “Incredible,” she muses. “You’re like a red flag with a weird amount of charm.”

Lando leans forward with a knowing look. “You’re like if sarcasm came in a cute little package, labelled ‘Do Not Open,’ and ignores my texts for fun.”

Y/N laughs softly, her grin widening. “I’m flattered, but who says I’m texting you back at all?” she shoots back, the words dripping with teasing amusement. Lando raises both eyebrows, confidence practically radiating off him. “Oh, I’m sure you will,” he says with a wink, as if he’s already won.

“Yep, that’s that overly confident 5 kicking in,” Y/N hums, shaking her head in mock disbelief. She takes another sip of her drink, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Lando’s jaw drops, and he looks to the camera crew for help, as though they could somehow intervene and save him from this onslaught of teasing. “HEY—”

But before he can get another word out, the camera cuts again, leaving the moment hanging in the air, the playful tension between them palpable.

♡

“So why are you single?” Y/N hums from across the table, the question hanging in the air. It’s obvious that Lando’s used to her out-of-pocket questions by now, but this one seems to hit differently. Lando leans back, raising an eyebrow as if she’s just asked him to solve world peace. “That’s a very bold question,” he points out, clearly impressed by her audacity.

“I’m curious,” she shrugs, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world to ask someone why they’re single.

“Not because you're interested, right?” Lando teases, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Y/N shakes her head, but it’s the most unconvincing “no” she’s ever given.

“No. Definitely not,” she says, but her eyes... her eyes betray her. There's a starry look in them that no one can miss, not even herself. Lando catches the slip-up, but he doesn’t say anything, leaning in slightly. “So? Why are you single then?” she presses, her voice rising slightly with mock curiosity.

Lando dramatically sighs, throwing a hand over his heart as if burdened by the weight of the question. “Because society fears men with amazing haircuts,” he declares with a shrug, as if he’s just unlocked the meaning of life. “It’s really that simple.”

Y/N winces from across the table, her eyes narrowing. “I was going to say commitment issues, but that works too,” she quips, a teasing smirk forming on her lips.

Lando rolls his eyes, clearly unbothered by her jab. “Okay, the truth? I only date people who make me feel like I’m in a cute movie or something,” he admits with a dramatic flourish. Y/N leans in, her grin mischievous. “Do I?” she hums, her voice just the right amount of playful. Lando’s expression falters for a second as she looks up at him, a confidence in her gaze that catches him off guard. It’s clear he’s not as used to it as he’d like to think.

“Wow,” he laughs nervously, “bold questions are just shooting out of you right now, huh?”

“What can I say?” Y/N shrugs casually, her eyebrows wiggling in mock innocence. Lando runs a hand through his hair, a chuckle escaping him as he tries to maintain composure. “I feel like you’d be the love interest and the sarcastic narrator,” he muses in amused disbelief.

“Multi-talented. I’m just amazing,” Y/N responds, a careless shrug accompanying her words like she’s casually announcing she invented fire. From across the table, Lando seems distracted, his gaze following Y/N. “Whatever you say,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. The camera zooms in slightly, capturing the playfulness between them—before the scene cuts abruptly, leaving the lingering energy between them to hang in the air.

♡

“If I was the last person on Earth, would you date me?” Y/N asks, leaning back slightly with a mischievous glint in her eyes, watching Lando carefully.

Lando, who’s been laughing and joking nonstop for the last ten minutes, suddenly straightens up, clearly deciding to take this question seriously. He takes a moment to “think,” his brow furrowing as if he’s weighing the fate of humanity. “Only after I build a shelter, farm some crops, and manage to survive long enough to get the necessary survival skills,” he says, nodding slowly as if this is the most practical answer in the world.

Y/N, clearly impressed with his reasoning, tilts her head and grins. “Wow, I love a man with stability,” she says with an approving nod. “But what if I say no?”

Lando shrugs nonchalantly, still in full serious mode. “Then I die alone,” he states matter-of-factly, “Possibly in front of you, for full effect, you know?” Y/N hums thoughtfully, her lips curving into a playful smile. “That’s not dramatic at all,” she replies, clearly amused by his over-the-top answer. Lando pulls a sour face in mock offense, but before he can say anything else, the camera cuts away, letting the playful tension linger.

♡

Lando leans in, the smirk on his face unmistakable. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or do I need to walk past again?” he asks, sending her a wink that could melt glaciers. Y/N, however, doesn’t seem to be moved by his charm. “Please don’t,” she says dryly, her voice unimpressed, “Once was enough.”

Lando pauses, clearly unsure whether that’s a yes or a no. “So, that’s a no?” he asks, as if he’s trying to gauge the temperature of the situation. Y/N looks him dead in the eye and replies, “That’s a ‘try harder.’”

Lando, clearly up for the challenge, clears his throat dramatically, ready for round two. “Okay, okay…” He pauses as if he’s about to drop the smoothest line ever. “If you were a sauce, you’d be extra hot and slightly intimidating.” He flashes a grin at her, clearly proud of his creativity. Y/N, unbothered and clearly not easily impressed, nods slowly. “Smooth,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Flattery and emotional damage? I’m impressed.”

Lando grins at her, his confidence soaring. “Why thank you,” he says with a mock bow, clearly pleased with his work.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but the playful banter between them is undeniable. The camera cuts again, just as the energy between them reaches its peak.

♡

"If we ever dated, we'd crash and burn in a week."

"Yep, but it would be hilarious."

"I'm so glad you agree."

"It would also be tragically funny."

"The best kind."

“Absolutely.”

The video ends.

a/n: tysm for reading! i hope you enjoyed, likes and reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated, stay safe xoxo suji :)

taglist: @curlylando

[kyber-crystal]

10 things i hate about you || f.w.

summary: rumor has it that you and fred weasley are going out. being the instigators you two are, you decide to play into said rumors. but just how far could you go before you lose sight of the line between fiction and reality? 

words: ~7.9k LMFAO I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD HERE

warnings: cheesiness, cliche 10 things i hate about you vibes, both y/n and fred being oblivious idiots. what’s more to love

a/n: you thought i’d avoid writing another fake dating fic? with fred? NEVER. ik there r some fake dating fred fics out there but i swear we need MORE bc this is the best trope ever idc. also made up a name for the school paper cs i forgot if it was a thing in the books/movies lol. reader is an implied gryffindor/ravenclaw but can technically be in whatever house you’d like : )

add yourself to my hp taglist here!

The problem with Hogwarts was that rumors spread through its halls like fiendfyre.

It all started during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry had narrowly caught the Snitch after a Dementor false alarm and carried the team to victory, causing the stadium to explode into ground-shaking cheers.  Waves of deep crimson and gold were pouring onto the field and you almost got trampled in the midst of it until someone pulled you into the center. 

“There you are—I was looking all over for you,” Fred beamed. “You were watching, right?”

“I was sitting front row…you literally saw me, Fred,” you stated plainly. 

“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he winked at you, sidelining you into a hug. “You look very pretty, by the way. I think my hat looks better on you than me.”

“Anddd there’s the woman of the hour! He couldn’t stop staring at you—almost crashed into the teachers’ section ‘cause of that,” Lee came over and clasped your shoulder. 

“That’s what that was all about? Freddie, you need to get it together!”

“Can’t help when you’re as alluring as a Veela,” the compliment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He then tilted his chin down to kiss your forehead, and you didn’t bother pushing him away despite the fact that he was all sweaty after being up in the air. 

A bright flash of light pulled you out of Fred’s embrace, and you blinked to see Colin standing there with a wide grin on his face, camera in hand. 

“Just capturing the moment,” the younger Gryffindor said excitedly. “This is gonna be a good one!”

You thought nothing of it until you went down to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. You went over to find your Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be huddled around something, staring at it intensely.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” Cho beamed brightly at you, moving over to make room for you to sit next to her. “Have you seen the latest school newsletter?”

You filled your plate and took a copy of the Hogwarts Daily Digest that Padma gave you. “No…what’s it all about?”

“Check page 3,” she told you. You took a bite of your toast first, pausing as you scanned over the page. At the front and center was a moving picture of you and Fred embracing, him pressing a kiss to your temple, smiles of pure bliss on both your faces. You had to admit that Colin had a way with pictures; so much so that you almost would’ve believed you and Fred were a true couple just by looking at the article. 

“So we’re going out, apparently,” you said, taking another bite of your food, “...Interesting.”

“Several students were interviewed about it, and they’re wondering if you guys are,” Cho explained. “With the way he kept looking over at you during the game, and how he was searching for you after it ended.” 

“I—I’ve ought to talk to Fred himself, see what he thinks about this—” you spluttered, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I just—we’re not even—”

“But you would be very cute together,” your best friend added. “I mean, you have known each other for how long now? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if you were.”

At the end of the day, you went to the library to squeeze in some quiet alone time for reading, curling up on one of the plushy sofas near the bookshelves. You were deep into a mythical book that Hermione recommended, fully zoned in for what felt like forever until the cushion sank a bit, indicating that someone had sat down next to you.

“What do you want, Fred,” you sighed without even looking up from your book. “Come to bother me again?”

He took the book from your hands in response and closed it. 

“Hey, I was reading that—” you began. 

“I wanted to ask you about the article,” he stated, “don’t you think Creevey’s quite the photographer?”

You scoffed. “If this is about us being a couple, you know we’re not.”

“I was going to suggest something else.”

“And what is that?”

“Given that half the school is talking about us already,” he referred to the whispers in the halls that followed you from class to class, “why not play into the rumors a bit?”

“So you’re suggesting that, what?”

“That we say we’re a couple.”

“...you want to pretend that we’re going out?”

“Why not?” 

“That’s insane,” you shot him a glare. “What do either of us get out of it?”

“Practice, of course,” Fred had a proud look on, “but also, why not have some fun with it?”

You stopped and thought about it for a second. He was right—who were you to not want to have a bit of fun? After all, it was just Fred; it couldn’t be that hard to fake-date someone, especially when you had no real feelings for them.

“Fine, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that, love?”

“Promise not to fall in love with me?” You stuck your hand out towards him. 

Fred took it and gave it a firm shake, his signature mischievous grin making its appearance. “As long as you don’t fall for me either.”

“Dream on.”

He leans forward, voice dropping to a low whisper. “10 galleons says you’ll fall in love with me first.”

“Oh, please. 20 says you won’t even last half as long.”

“You’re on.”

So it began—settling into the whole routine was surprisingly easy. But of course, it was probably easier since you had money on the line; asides from George, you and Fred were the most competitive people in the entire school. You’d do anything for extra money, glory, and infinite bragging rights. 

Making it a point to one-up each other, you began to brainstorm ways to really play up the whole “fake girlfriend” thing.

i. the pda competition, part 1

Monday afternoon’s Potions lesson proceeded as always, with Snape’s annoying, drawling voice instructing you on what to do. 

Today’s class was boring but ended early, the only downside being that you were assigned a hefty load of homework. 

“By the beginning of Wednesday’s class, you shall turn in to me two feet of parchment on the history of Strengthening Solution and its’ properties…” Snape ordered, “...for now, follow the instructions on the board. Ingredients are in the back. I expect the utmost perfection and accuracy…those who fail shall not be tolerated.”

Groaning internally, you headed to the back of the classroom towards the supply cabinets, Fred following close behind. Either Snape was out to get you both or it was sheer luck that had you paired together for this assignment. 

“Wait, you forgot something,” Fred called out as you were about to walk away. 

You turned around, a snarky reply ready. “What is—”

You didn’t even have the chance to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you into his chest, kissing you square on the lips. You were completely taken by surprise and had no time to react whatsoever. 

Low wolf-whistles and “ooohs” reverbrated throughout the entire classroom as you broke apart. 

“What was that for?” you hissed. 

There was a devilish grin on his face, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it right off him. “Just trying to be a good fake boyfriend, of course,” he whispered into your ear.

“Touch me again without warning and I’ll break your nose,” you said in a low tone, ignoring the heat rising up your cheeks.

“Miss Y/L/N…Mr. Weasley…” Snape said lowly, “...back to your seats, both of you. This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Get to work.”

Several students giggled at this and you huffed, heading back to your seat. You didn’t speak more than a few sentences to Fred for the remainder of the lesson, face still flushed from the sudden incident. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked in silence, adding the ingredients into your bubbling cauldron with careful, precise movements.

“That’s 1-0 to me,” he reminded you. “Better hurry and catch up, or I’m winning those Galleons.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, uncapping the bottle in front of you and pouring some of the liquid in.

ii. the pda competition, part 2

After Fred had kissed you in the middle of a packed classroom, you were determined to get back at him, racking your brain for ideas. 

You sat under a sprawling tree by the Great Lake with Cedric, Cho, Padma, Ernie, and several other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Somehow, you got lucky and all had matching free periods today, taking the opportunity to have a picnic by the water together. 

“A little birdie told me that you and a special someone were going out,” Cedric pointed a finger at you, the other arm slung around Cho’s shoulders. “Now what’s going on?”

“They’ve always been mad about each other, only took them a million years to see it,” Ernie butted in. “Isn’t it obvious? One would think they’re already married at this point, though.” 

“Who’s married to who?” you heard someone ask from behind you. 

“Speak of the devil,” Ernie said, “there he is!”

“Was going to check on you—see you at supper?” Fred lightly touched your cheek. You nodded blindly, the skin of his hand hot on your face. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

You turned back around to see everyone smirking at you knowingly. 

“What?” you questioned, adjusting the collar of your shirt as if nothing had happened. 

“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Cho laughed breathily, “Ernie was right. It’s like you’re married.”

“Oh shut up, we’re still much too young for that.”

“Not for long!” 

Of course the only empty seat at the Gryffindor table that evening was next to Fred, and he made sure that you were sitting as close to him as humanly possible. All it would take was an extra few inches and you’d fully be sitting on his lap. You shook off the embarrassment and snapped back into it, determined to win the bet.

“I missed you all day, you know,” he admitted, placing a dinner roll onto your plate for you. “Where have you been?”

“By the lakes,” you said matter-of-factly. “Where else would I be?”

“With me, obviously.” 

“I’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Well that hurt,” he pretended to look hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”

“Second to last,” you joked. “Hey, wait—there’s something on your mouth.”

“Where?” he tried motioning around with his fingers but to no avail. 

“Right…here…” you murmured, gently grasping his chin and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lip, tasting a hint of the sweet cranberry sauce he’d been eating on the tip of your tongue. Loud gasps erupted through the Great Hall at the sudden private but public display. 

Fred inhaled sharply—he knew you were bold, but like this? For once, the jokester had nothing sarcastic to counter you with and was at a loss for words. 

When you pulled away, both yours and his faces were a shade of deep scarlet.

“Cat got your tongue?” you smirked, discreetly slipping a sheet of paper into his back pocket. “That’s 1-1 now, Fred.”

Again, Fred was left speechless. 

“I feel like I’m interrupting something very…” Ron coughed, damn near choking on his chicken leg. “Intimate. Scandalous. Very—”

“Shut it, Ronald,” you cut him off. “Can’t a girl snog her boyfriend when she wants?”

More jaws dropped at your reply, and you simply continued eating, a victorious grin on your face. Fred looked down and fished the note out of his pocket, unfolding the smooth parchment to reveal your tidy penmanship. 

Now who’s the flustered one? you know where to find me if you need me xx

You were so going to win. 

iii. the serenade

You found yourself sitting on the bench watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice—it was Fred’s idea to show up to as many of them as possible to really sell the whole “fake dating” thing. You didn’t mind all that much, as you got bored easily and liked to have a change of scenery every so often while you were studying. 

A loud, abrupt screech caused you to look up from your textbook and you winced, covering your ears. 

“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…” a melodic voice began flowing across the stadium. Confused, you set your book down and stood up, looking around for the source of the noise. 

“You’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…” 

Fred suddenly appeared from the commentator’s box, holding a microphone. He casually leaned against the pole before sliding down and hitting the bleachers, gracefully making his way down the steps. 

“...And I thank God I’m alive…” his eyes remained focused on you, blazing gold and green. “You’re just too good to be true…” 

“What the—”

He spun around and pointed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a childish grin, “...Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“HIT IT, WOOD!” you heard someone (was that Lee?) yell, and music began blasting from the speakers.

Your friends were eyeing you with delight, fully entertained by the fact that you had absolutely no clue what was happening. Fred continued singing while he sauntered down the bleachers with a grace that you had never seen. 

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright

I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night

I love you, baby, trust in me when I say

Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray

Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay

And let me love you, baby, let me love you”

A blush coated your cheeks as he finally approached you, taking one of your hands in his and twirling you around. He held your gaze the entire time, eyes alight with what looked like genuine joy and passion. The rest of your classmates joined in as they crowded around you, joining together in one voice. 

It was impossible to hold back the smile creeping up your face as Fred continued to sing—he was undeniably charming, and you had to admit, this was well worth suffering a brief loss for. 

“Oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…” the final lyrics left his mouth and everyone burst into applause. He made a show of bowing dramatically and kissing your hand in an exaggerated motion. 

You rolled your eyes at the overly extravagant gesture. But deep down, you had enjoyed every second of the impromptu serenade. 

Within minutes after it ended, Fred’s musical spectacle was the talk of the school. Students nudged each other in the corridors as you passed by, whispering words of encouragement, saying how they wished for a relationship like yours, and wondering where they could possibly find someone like Fred. 

You felt him slip something into your robe’s pocket. Fred had sidled up next to you as you headed up the stairs to the common room, still grinning widely. 

“2-1,” he reminded you, kissing your cheek before turning to the Fat Lady and uttering the password. He stepped through the portrait hole and turned back to wait for you, then walked all the way inside. “Better continue that game of catch up, I might just steal the title of ‘best fake partner ever’ from you.”

There’s that beautiful smile, the note read. Keep it on for me, will you?

iv. the nightmare

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, because it was 3:27 a.m. and you were wide awake after barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep. 

Nothing you did worked; even the Potion for Dreamless Sleep had failed to keep the nightmares at bay. You didn’t last long before jolting awake, beads of sweat forming at your forehead and chest heaving with raggedy, jagged breaths. 

After several minutes of tossing and turning you gave up, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to the common room. The fireplace was on, indicating that someone was already there—

“Y/N?” Fred turned around from his spot on the couch to look at you. “What’re you doing up at this hour?”

You yawned, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Finishing an assignment,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sheets of parchment, a vial of ink, and several books were spread out on the coffee table. “You?”

“Nothing,” you lied, sitting down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t miss the hoarse tone in your voice nor your tear-stained face, stopping what he was doing to fully focus on you. “Now I know that’s not true. What’s bothering you, really?”

“I said I’m fine, just can’t sleep.” You let out a shuddering sigh and attempted to will the tears away, but your vision began to blur. “Go finish your work—”

“Hey.” Fred’s voice was soft. “Come here.”

His arms gingerly wrapped around your trembling frame to envelop you into a tight hug. He reached one hand up to smooth out your hair as you shook with silent sobs, your hands curling  into the fabric of his robes as if holding onto him would keep you from slipping away and losing yourself again. 

Fred was never one to be patient, but he knew that you just needed this moment free of chaos. So he waited, laying there with you as he continued murmuring soothing words into your ear, gently rubbing your back; he’d wait for as long as he’d need to. 

You didn’t know how much time passed until the tears ran themselves dry and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” he suggested. “But only if you’re comfortable, that is.”

You hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him. Maybe he’d think you were strange…but seeing how he looked so genuine in that moment changed your mind. 

“I lost you…I lost everyone. I watched you die, Fred.” Your voice was cracked and raw, which sent a pang through his chest. The image of Fred’s lifeless body trapped between the rubble flashed across your vision, feeling as if it was wrapping its cold fingers around your throat. “I watched you all die and I couldn’t save you.”

“But I’m alive and well right now, aren’t I?” he assured you calmly, “I’ll be here for as long as you want me around. You’ll have to fight to the death to get rid of me.”

Managing a broken laugh, you looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really. What are fake boyfriends for, anyway?” His hand found its place against your cheek, fingers gently skimming across your skin. You leaned into his touch and let out a sigh, lips just barely brushing over his palm.  

“No one’s here, Fred…you don’t need to pretend.”

“I know I don’t.” Any and all traces of half-witted sarcasm were gone; wiped clean off his face. Instead, his eyes were glossed over with concern as they raked over yours. “Figured I could keep you company? Since I didn’t want you to be alone in your head like this.”

“I’d like that.”

He then passed a familiar folded square to you, and you opened it with a smile.

I’m here, whenever you need - F.W

v. the hospital wing run-in

“For Godric’s sake, how many more times will I have to see you in here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she hurried around, setting a metal tray by your bedside. “This is the third time this month.”

“Sorry,” you winced as you shifted your injured leg onto the pillow she’d set out. 

“What is it this time?”

“I broke my ankle.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Pursing your lips, you elected to tell her the modified version of the story, which was the one where you had tripped while going down the stairs, not the one that included running down the Astronomy Tower after sneaking up there for a dare (the twins’ doing). 

She shook her head in disbelief, glancing over the cuts on your face and fixing the bandages around your foot. “You’ll be in here for a few days. We’ll have to regrow the bones in your foot and ankle…my, how someone can break this many bones just from missing a step, I can’t seem to understand…what are all of you doing here?”

You followed her gaze to where Hermione, Ginny, Cho, and Fred were standing by the hospital wing’s entrance, alight with excitement upon seeing that you were awake.

“Guys—”

“Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that no visitors are allowed at this time! I advise that you all head back,” Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply. 

“But we haven’t seen her all last night and this morning! Can we just stay for a minute,” Hermione begged. “Please?”

The older woman sighed as she scanned your friends (and fake? boyfriend’s) desperate, pleading faces. “...Alright, then. Don’t stay too long and for Godric’s sake, let her breathe.”

They immediately crowded around your bed and Fred walked over to your side, crouching down so that you were eye level with him. 

“There’s my princess,” his charming persona was back in full force, and he smoothly brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. For what felt like the eleventh time, he was swooping in to kiss your cheek. Not that you were counting. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” you winked as you attempted to prop yourself into an upright position, but failed, giving up and flopping back down. “Ow. My foot.”

Ginny pretended to throw up on Hermione, who then elbowed her in the stomach.  “Ow!” she yelped. “What was that for?” 

“Let’s leave the happy couple alone,” she hissed, and they slowly backed away to give you some space. 

Fred pulled up a chair next to your bedside, propping his chin in his hand to stare at you. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean for you to end up with five broken bones.”

“And a concussion, a killer headache, and not to mention dozens of sore muscles,” you grimaced, but felt a slight ache in your chest when you realized he looked genuinely guilty. “I don’t blame you, really. I mean, I was just as stupid and reckless. I definitely could’ve been more careful but I wasn’t.”

“I’m supposed to mess up your lipstick,” he groaned, “not your bones.”

“Someone took ‘public displays of affection’ the wrong way,” you said sarcastically, and then there was a brief moment of silence before you both burst into laughter.

“Damn right he di—OW, Hermione!”

“Gin, let’s go!” With that, the two girls left the hospital wing, leaving the two of you alone.

“Why are you here, anyway? Hermione and Ginny are because they’re my friends, and you’re my—”

“—lovely, charming, undeniably handsome boyfriend, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Fred finished your sentence for you.

“Right,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I just can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? It seems like you’re always around.”

“And yet, you don’t push me away,” a smile tugged at his lips. “Which clearly means that I’m just that irresistible. I don’t need a charm or some silly love potion to reel you in.”

“Don’t think that because I’m incapacitated, this game is over,” you warned him. “I will beat your arse to a pulp, and you’ll be twenty Galleons lighter. I bet you’re madly in love with me already.”

“Believe what you want, my darling,” he sing-songed, twirling his wand between his fingers. “But we all know I’ve already won this game.”

“Yeah, right. We’re tied now, by the way. That’s for getting me injured.”

“Oi! You can’t just—”

“Shh…don’t come crying to me ‘till you lose.”

He ended up staying overnight. 

You didn’t protest at all. 

Neither did Madam Pomfrey later that evening after seeing him slumped over on your bed, fast asleep, one hand clutching yours like you were the only thing he had left to lose. 

vi. the howler 

For once you managed to get to the Great Hall before Fred did. The bloke was always criminally late or ridiculously early to everything; it was almost laughable how there was no in between for him. 

He finally showed up just ten minutes before breakfast was supposed to end, breathing hard with his hair all messed up.

“What’d I miss?” he asked you.

“Nothing,” you responded. “Just another ordinary day…”

A gust of wind suddenly swept through the hallway causing the napkins to flutter in the air. A giant grey owl came swooping down onto the table and landed straight in front of Fred, clutching an envelope in its curved talons. 

“What’s Errol doing here? We’re not supposed to get our daily mail til’ tomorrow,” Ron gawked, “surprised that he’s here given the number of times he’s collapsed mid-delivery—oh blimey Fred, you must be in trouble! You’ve got a Howler!”

Several Gryffindors around you giggled at this. 

With a slight look of confusion and fear, Fred carefully removed the seal on the bright red envelope. Molly Weasley’s booming voice immediately came bursting from the pages. 

“FRED WEASLEY, HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT YOU WERE DATING MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—Y/N dear, if you’re hearing this, I’m very happy for you and hope to see you at the Burrow soon, I’ll make sure to whip up some homemade custard for you—YOU OUGHT TO TREAT HER RIGHT, BOY, OR ELSE! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I SURE AS MERLIN CAN TAKE YOU RIGHT OUT!”

A silence fell over the entire Great Hall and Fred sat there, in shock. The red envelope folded itself up and then burst into flames, its ashes crumbling to the floor. 

“I’ve never seen him turn that red,” George sniggered. “You’re bloody brilliant, Y/N.”

“Y-you did this?” Fred spluttered. 

“Can’t say I didn’t,” you hummed, patting his head affectionately. “Your mum was bound to find out, one way or another.”

“And you thought this was the best idea?”

“Aww, is little Freddie all embarrassed?” you teased. “Never thought I’d live to see that day.”

“Quit gloating,” the redhead grumbled. “You haven’t won yet. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”

vii. the pda competition, part ∞

As it turned out, continuing to slip into your fake relationship only became more fun as the days and weeks dragged on. And being competitive only added to the fun, as you were scrambling to one-up each other. 

You often opted to hold his hand when walking from place to place, which wasn’t difficult given that you were almost always with him now and had to sell the idea that you really were together. His hands were rough and calloused from all those hours working on joke shop prototypes, but they were still surprisingly comforting. A way to keep you grounded when your head got stuck in the clouds. 

Fred’s signature move was, of course, dropping random kisses on your cheek when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, when he was feeling bolder than usual, that would change to the tender spot between your ear and jaw, your shoulder, or your nose. And each of those times he made sure they were extra drawn-out and that you were in a crowded area so others would see it. The courtyard. The Quidditch pitch. The classroom (two of those incidents were in Potions, much to Snape’s dismay. He didn’t even bother taking points off due to being too disgusted).

“I have a massive exam today,” he declared loudly to you as you stood in front of his upcoming class together. “I think I’m going to need a kiss.”

“Why?” you scoffed. “What do you need that for?”

“For good luck,” Fred said, “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”

“You…want a kiss for good luck?” you started.  

“I’m waiting…” he sang, face turned slightly in an invitation. You sighed and went up on your tiptoes, doing as he asked. “Thank you. But you have terrible aim…you missed.”

“I fear you’re having way too much fun with this,” you muttered. “Don’t make excuses. My lips are not going near yours unless they absolutely need to now.”

“Oh come on, you know you’re having loads of fun too,” he called out as he walked into the classroom. “Catch you later, sweetheart!”

viii. the butterbeer (alt: the pda competition, part ∞)

It was the day of another Hogsmeade outing and you were hand-in-hand with Fred as you walked down the cobblestone streets together. You had planned to spend the day alone for the most part and join Cho for a meal, but Fred had cornered you at breakfast and insisted you go on a date with him.

“To keep up the façade,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t people find it odd if the castle’s favorite couple wasn’t together?” 

You nodded and didn’t protest further; you had no energy to do so anyway. It was far too cold for your taste; you had been dragged out without having time to grab your gloves, blowing hot hair into your hands that were steadily growing numb. 

“Love,” he called for you as he took your hands in his, “oh, your fingers feel like ice.”

“No…shit…” your teeth chattered as you attempted to respond steadily. “Might lose ‘em if we don’t hurry up and get inside—”

“Wait one second,” Fred said as you two stopped right outside the Three Broomsticks, wasting no more time in taking his gloves off and handing them to you to put on, while he wrapped his house scarf around your neck. “There. Let’s head in.”

“But—”

“Boyfriend duties, remember?” he winked at you as he pushed the door open, holding it for you to step inside first. “Come on. I think a butterbeer or two’ll warm you up.”

Fred’s hand remained on the small of your back, pressing in gently to lead you to a cozy booth in the back. The added warmth felt quite nice, you thought, but you also wondered how he managed to stay like a human furnace when it the weather outside was so dreadfully cold. 

It was hard not to stare at him; catching his gaze every so often while sipping your drink. His hair was all tousled from the frigid winds; you took notice of the way it slightly curled out at the ends, glowing under the hazy yellow bar lights. It was annoyingly endearing how he could look so flawless without any effort and even more so that you didn’t have anything snarky to say. 

“Fred, I think we’re being followed…” you whispered as you scanned the near vicinity, fingers brushing against the rim of your mug. There in the far opposite corner sat Padma, Ernie, Cedric, and Cho, attempting to look nonchalant as if they weren’t half-stalking you but they were doing a rather terrible job at it. You quickly looked away.

“So? Isn’t that what we want—for people to see us?” he countered with a tone of confidence. His voice dropped low as he continued to speak to you. “Why don’t we give them a show? No need to be so private.”

Your face burned. “What do you—”

“Not like that,” he chuckled lowly, “what did you think I meant?”

“I…”

Fred paused, then raised his hand and brushed something off your cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“Oh, so we’re playing that game now, are we?”

“Indeed, my lady.”

You scoffed quietly and imitated his motion, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed between his brows. “Put a smile on your face, why don’t you? You look better that way.”

“I always look good, though.”

“I look better than your greasy arse.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. “I’d like to see you tr—”

Before you could say anything else and before he could stop himself from what he was doing, Fred placed a hand on the nape of you neck and pulled you in, kissing you without another word. All protests left behind flew right out the window (along with your morals, too, you thought) and for a split second, it almost didn’t feel like you were pretending at all. 

When you broke apart eventually, breaths a little heavy, neither of you needed to look over to see that your friends were gaping in shock, mouths dropped wide open. Sure, Fred was confident and cocky and you were equally so, but both of you would be lying if you said this didn’t take you by surprise. 

“You still keeping track?” His voice still had that low, almost husky tone to it. He was cupping your cheek now, and you let him keep doing so. “There can only be one victor, right?”

“Wouldn’t forget it,” you exhaled. “You think we look convincing enough right now?”

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

ix.  the thunderstorm 

The day’s exciting Care of Magical Creatures lesson was cut thirty minutes short due to the heavy downpour that had suddenly came crashing down, bringing with it a booming thunderstorm and soaking all your clothes within minutes. 

“Well, that’s it fer today, everyone,” Hagrid announced, “now let’s head back inside, don’ want yeh to catch a cold, we’ll continue when the weather lets up…”

You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and flipped the hood on over your head, eyes narrowing as you stared up at the suddenly stormy grey sky. It just had to be on the one day you got to go outside and do something exciting, damn it….

It was freezing, nearly as horrible as that one day in Hogsmeade, and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to simply curl up by the fireplace with Hermione, the Patil twins, and Cho, and talk all evening long. If you could even make it back to the castle in one, unfrozen piece, maybe you’d at least get your hands on some hot chocolate from the kitchens…

A warm hand found yours amidst the strong winds, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel so cold anymore. 

As if he had read your mind, Fred said, “how about we sneak into the kitchens and grab something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps?”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and he draped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you into his side. It felt so natural now, like this wasn’t part of some long-standing bet to fool the whole school; as if you were just two best friends trying to keep warm in subpar temperatures. And it was almost too easy to get used to it. 

“Oblivious idiots. I told them for years that they’d be perfect together and it’s only this year that they start going out,” George exclaimed from several yards behind, walking side-by-side with Lee Jordan. “Dunno why it took them so long.”

“Love takes time, obviously,” said Lee as he watched Fred lean into your ear and say something, and you giggled lightly in response, “and now, what matters is that I finally have an excuse to make fun of them during Quidditch matches.”

“Oh—good point.”

“And you’ve noticed that he stopped pranking her? Unlike him, isn’t it?” 

“Wait…” George paused as he took in Lee’s questions. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization. “He’s utterly whipped, that git.”

“What happens when boyfriend duties overcome prankster duties…this is perfect. Professor Flitwick owes me 2 galleons. I called it that he’d fall first!” 

“You bet on them?” George squawked. “With Flitwick?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” Lee laughed, “I know you did too.”

The expression on George’s face shifted into one of defeat. “I lost,” he muttered, “I owe McGonagall 3 galleons.”

x. verum exeat (let the truth come out) 

The Gryffindor common room was alight with chatter once again. After a long, grueling week of exam revisions, Quidditch practice, and a brutal match to be remembered, Lee and the twins decided that a small celebration was in order. They had originally planned on inviting half the damn school but after arguing with Hermione, had to shrink the party down to just their smaller, usual friend group (they swore up and down that they’d clean up and not get detention like last time, but she wouldn’t buy it). 

But you knew that if things had the Weasley twins’ names pasted next to them, they’d be far from peaceful; as far as you could possibly get—no matter how big or small. 

“Oh, there you are,” you heard someone say from behind, and turned around to see that it was Hermione.

“Not drinking?”

“Someone’s got to take care of the boys after they go wild, right?” she explained. “Besides…I can’t stand the taste of firewhisky. It burns.”

You offered a tired half-smile and agreed. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Hermione seemed to be deep in thought for a moment until she told you, “You’re very lucky, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“To have Fred, that is. To find someone who’s that in love with you, it’s quite rare.” 

“Oh, please,” you tried to suppress a laugh, “I told you why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 

“And?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at you, “feelings change. Bet or no bet, he cares about you and anyone would be crazy not to see that. Ronald is half-blind and he can tell, too. You can’t possibly tell me that everything you’ve done up to this point has been a lie.” 

“It’s meant nothing to me,” you said bitterly. “I hate him.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. And it doesn’t help that he’s everywhere,” you stopped to take a swig of firewhisky, “and I can’t stand it!”

“Do you not, really?”

“I do, but I—”

“You what?”

“I just hate him!” 

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think? I hate everything about him!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I hate the way he always tries to compete with me, I hate the way he doesn’t take things seriously, I hate that stupid, annoying little smirk he has on his face half the time I see him—”

You inhaled quickly; it felt like you’d just drank an entire vital of Veritaserum with the way that words were tumbling out of your mouth. Hermione gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Go on,’ so you did, “—I hate the way he walks down to the Great Hall every morning with his annoyingly perfect messy hair, I hate the way he risks freezing his arse off to give me his favorite gloves so that I don’t get hypothermia, I hate the way it’s so easy for him to kiss—borderline snog me like it’s nothing, I hate how this is all just supposed to be a game of pretend, and—and most of all, I hate the way he made me fall in love with him without even trying. I hate the way I don't actually hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit…not even at all…”

“You…really mean that?”

You whirled around to see that Fred was standing right behind you with his hands behind his back, eyes hopeful, and you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “Fred—”

“Y/N, I—”

Suddenly it seemed like the walls were closing in on you from all sides, the room spinning; and then, everything around you jumbled into one chaotic mess of noise and color. Without looking to see either his or Hermione’s reactions, without caring that half the room had stopped to see what was going on, you pushed past your friends and quickly clambered out of the portrait hole. 

“What was that about?” Ron’s nose crinkled in confusion. “So much for being a cute couple. Now this is just sad.”

“Will you shut it, Ronald,” Hermione whacked him on the shoulder. 

“OW—”

“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let me catch you drinking even one more shot or I will drag your arse back to bed,” she snapped. 

“Pleeeease do, I would lov—ow, ow, OW! OKAY!” Ron exclaimed as she pinched his ear and began dragging him away. “Okay! I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stop…”

Chest heaving and vision blurring with tears, you rushed outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was quiet in the courtyard asides from the faint trickling of water but that did little to calm you down; it was still too loud, too chaotic, too much. Sitting down at the marbled edge of one of the fountains, you tried to catch your breath and balance, but the world still kept spinning…it felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning; for Merlin’s sake. All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear forever, or jump off the Astronomy tower and fly off to a distant land. You didn’t want to have to worry about how you poured your entire damn heart out in the middle of the common room about your fake boyfriend.

Your fake boyfriend that you realized, with horror, you had begun to develop not-fake feelings for. 

A chill ran through you at that moment and you shivered.

Then the feeling of something warm—a thick coat—being draped over your shoulders shook you out of your trance. You instinctively slid it tighter around yourself.

“Thought I might find you out here,” said Fred. You opened your mouth, ready to ask how in Godric’s name he knew where you were at all times when he didn’t even have the Maurader’s Map anymore, but stopped. This was Fred Weasley, and you had spent an unhealthy amount of time around each other over the past several months that he had to have picked up on your little habits. He was more observant than he let on. 

“What are you doing out here?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. 

“I couldn’t leave you alone outside to freeze, could I?” he asked, sitting down next to you. “What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”

“Please, just…” you inhaled sharply, “I can’t do this. You won. I lost. The game’s over, Weasley.” 

“On a last-name basis now, are we? Ouch,” he said jokingly, but dropped the teasing lilt in his voice when he noticed your eyes starting to water. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

“It just isn’t fair,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not fair,’” your voice faltered, “you’re not supposed to do that. To do this.”

“Do what?”

“To sabotage the bet. To make me lose track of the scores.”

“Well, I stopped counting, you know,” Fred admitted, tucking a hair behind your hair. “There’s no need to keep track anymore, I think we’ve done enough convincing, don’t you think?”

“But that’s the problem!” your voice cracked as you finally turned to look at him. “It isn’t that I’m probably going to be dozens of Galleons poorer after this. It’s that I’m feeling something I shouldn’t, that…that you made me fall in love with you—”

“Y/N—”

“—I hate the way I care about you far more than I should,” you continued on, “and I hate myself even more for even wishing what we had was real. Because it was all fake, Fred, and you know it. We were faking it, and—”

“Y/N,” he repeated more sternly this time, causing you to stop mid sentence. “Look, I already told you I stopped keeping track. After that night in the common room….that’s when I realized I couldn’t. Lee damn near had to hit me over the head and force-feed me Veritaserum to admit that I was in deep. Galleons and glory be damned, I didn’t care about any of that anymore; it was easy for me to pretend when I was already in love with you.”

“But we weren’t supposed to fall in love, that was the rule,” you sniffed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I thought we were supposed to follow the rules.”

Fred’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I think some rules are made to be broken.”

And then, he was closing the gap and connecting your lips in a deep kiss. The gentle motion cut through the chilly evening air, washing over you in a blazing heat that had you melting into a haze of firewhisky, adrenaline, and something that smelled distinctly like a crackling log fire and cinnamon. 

You had kissed him multiple times before this, but this one felt different than all the rest. It didn’t feel like you were doing it for show in the slightest; it felt genuine and warm and so real. 

And the biggest difference was that you never wanted it to come to an end. 

“So?” The grin on his face was palpable; contagious, as you broke apart, “What do you say, we stop faking it?”

“Are you fake breaking up with me?” you gasped and pretended to look surprised. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“I’m asking to real-date you, darling,” he said.

“There’s no money on the line this time?”

“No,” he hummed as he leaned forward to kiss you a second time and pretended to think for a second, “but there might be something else on the line instead.”

“And what is that ‘something else?’”

“You’ll have to wait a few years and see.”

xi. the promise 

—FOUR YEARS LATER—

Fred was a great planner, of course. “Brilliant,” Harry would say, “absolutely brilliant.” He might’ve been a jokester, but he was a very organized jokester. He always knew what he was going to do and when. 

So when it came to you, he thought he had a plan. He thought he had it planned for years; he was thinking fireworks, extravagant displays in the sky, taking you on a sunset ride across Romania on one of Charlie’s dragons. Something to match your free and daring spirit. 

But, the moment ended up presenting itself on its own. 

It was an ordinary night with yours and Hermione’s families joining the Weasleys for a quiet weekend at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was listening intently as Mr. Granger and Harry explained the function of rubber ducks and the Internet in great detail, and the rest of you chatted with your parents,  Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Granger by the kitchen counter about post-graduation plans. 

Mrs. Granger had made an off-hand, passing comment about how lovely your silver bracelet—the one with charms of yours’ and Fred’s initials and Patronuses dangling from it—looked on your wrist. And then Fred was saying, “I know something else that would look great on her,” and taking a small box out of his pocket and flipping it open, revealing a blinding bright, silvery diamond ring. 

Even as shouts of realization and cheers of joy rose up from around the kitchen, the world seemed to fade away into complete silence when he put the ring on your finger and encircled his arms around your torso, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear, 

“I told you there was something else, didn’t I?” 

tags: @xhanthexzoria @arkofblake @fictionalsimp449 @polar-myst @katelikeslaughs @lmllsl @schlattandcompany

[yandere-daze]

I promised I would do it and now that I've finished reading Death Note, here are some of my thought on Yandere Light ^^

While writing this, it moreso turned into a scenario told in bulletpoints rather than headcanons. I hope you have fun reading! I'm more than happy to talk about it or answer any questions you might have after reading!

gn reader

2.6k words

cw yandere, manipulation, isolation, stalking but not exactly by Light himself?, kidnapping (mentioned)

Yandere! Light Yagami Headcanons / Scenario

I believe Light would be a very fascinating case of a yandere as he would both be very intense and controlling while still keeping that side of himself very well hidden from you and the general public. You wouldn't notice anything off about him until it is already too late (if you would ever notice it at all)

When Light first fell in love with you it came as a complete surprise to him. Never in his life has he ever loved anyone before so these strange warm feelings he got whenever he looked at you caught him off-guard and made him feel a bit uneasy.

He was obviously intelligent enough to quickly figure out just what exactly these feelings meant and at first, he wasn't very pleased with these new circumstances. To him, romance was simply a distraction from his greater goals for the world, an unnecessary nuisance, and something that was quite frankly beneath him.

He convinced himself that he had no time or real desire for a relationship so for the next few days and even weeks, he tried his best to suppress these pesky feelings he has developed for you. He tried to keep his distance from you and if you were somehow forced to interact he would do the bare minimum of keeping up appearances. Polite smiles and meaningless small talk were all you were getting from him. Everything was perfectly normal.

At first, Light had thought that staying away from you like this was a smart idea. Feelings were supposed to fade away into nothingness if you never interacted with your object of affection and he was counting on that. If he only let go of this silly delusion of a loving relationship with you, everything would go back to normal soon enough.

But quickly Light found that his approach was starting to backfire pretty spectacularly. The more he forced himself to stay away from you, the more he found himself lying awake at night, his thoughts drifting off to images of you smiling at him or laying down right beside him as he wrapped his arms around you. Instead of regaining focus, he was getting even more easily distracted than before, his mind constantly wandering.

Staying away, watching you talk to and laugh with other people was slowly starting to drive him insane and so he decided that he would need to change tactics. If his love for you wasn't dwindling then he must do everything in his power to grow closer to you and finally satisfy his longing for you.

After his initial denial phase, Light would slowly worm his way into your daily life without you even noticing. Every time you saw each other somewhere, he would greet you with a charming smile and start a short conversation with you, hoping to build some rapport between the two of you. He would offer to carry your bags for you, insisting it wasn't a big deal, or invite you for a tutoring session if you were both still students. Light was at the top of his class, the brightest boy in the entire school. What reason could you possibly have to refuse?

At first, you would meet at a public place like a library or a cafe to meet up. Spending one-on-one time with you like this, even if you were only studying was strangely exhilarating for Light. Sitting across from you and watching your face scrunch up in confusion whenever you got stuck on a subject or the way your expression would brighten up with understanding after he explained a particularly difficult problem to you... These were moments he would find himself looking forward to every single time.

Slowly over time, the frequency of these study sessions would increase under the guise of needing to properly prepare for upcoming tests or exams. The location, too, would change once Light suggests studying at his home where you wouldn't be disturbed by anyone else.

Sometimes he would even pick you up at home and smirk internally whenever he heard your parents comment about what a nice, handsome young man he was. He didn't miss the way they would nudge you toward him while shooting you a knowing look and waving you off.

Of course, to grow even closer to you, he would integrate himself into your friend group. Though he didn't care for any of your friends in the slightest, it was very easy for him to connect with them due to his popularity and good looks. He was good at pretending to care for these fools if it meant he could spend even more time with you.

Naturally, he would also use his connections with your friends to learn more things about you that he could then purposefully include in a conversation during your study sessions. Light made sure to study up on any of your interests whether it was a certain band, movie, book, or anything else, just to be able to impress you with his knowledge on the matter. It was truly remarkable how many things you had in common, wasn't it?

Slowly but surely, Light became a constant presence in your life when you had been mere acquaintances a few months ago. Light picks you up in the morning, he's a permanent member of your friend group, he sits beside you in class, he invites you over to his house three times a week now to study ( though your study sessions have evolved into regular hangouts now instead of really getting any coursework done) and he's a constant conversation topic at home. ("And you two really aren't dating? What a shame, Light is such a sweet boy. I'm sure he would treat you right.")

In such a short amount of time, Light has clawed his way into your life and yet he's still not satisfied. He won't be content until he finally has you all for himself, until you're finally in his arms. And once he has you, he won't ever let go.

After growing closer to you as a friend, Light would quickly work on isolating you and becoming the sole person you rely on. These so-called friends of yours are all imbeciles, people unworthy of being in your presence.

At this point, I might as well mention that I think Yandere Light would rever and idolize you to a point but he would still want to be the one in control ultimately. You are pure of heart, someone who should be protected, and are so far above the ignorant masses. They don't deserve you. Only a god like him is worthy of owning you and he really wishes you would realize this soon. He knows what is best for you.

I actually think he wouldn't use the Death Note to isolate you and get rid of any obstacles in his path to claiming you as his, at least not yet. Early on in the story of Death Note, while the world is still largely against Kira and he is actively being investigated by the police and L, Light can't risk getting his hands dirty for something trivial like this, no matter how much he would love an efficient way to rid himself of these friends of yours, let alone the people he deems an active threat to your future relationship.

No matter how much he might yearn for you, he can't risk his greater mission of ridding the world of all criminals.

So, Light will take the subtle manipulation route. Manipulation is something he is very good at and he will not hesitate to guide your thoughts and feelings in a direction that benefits him.

He acts as a concerned friend when he tells you about the things he heard about fellow classmates. Did you know that one of your friends used to be a member of a gang? He heard that they were slipping into old habits and getting in trouble again and so he couldn't help but feel worried about you. He doesn't like you associating with someone so dangerous. He's just looking out for you, okay?

He's even worse when it comes to people he deems a romantic rival. He never runs out of negative things to say about people you show an interest in. It angers him greatly whenever he has to listen to you swoon over someone else but he knows you're just too blind to see that he's the one for you at the moment.

But no matter, Light will make sure you don't do anything stupid like going on a date with someone else. Oh, he heard that one was a total player, they would only break your heart. Your date didn't show up at all? Oh, he's so sorry to hear that. Look why don't you make the most of this evening and spend it together instead then? They were a fool to stand you up and he's going to make sure you'll forget all about them soon enough.

Never mind the fact that he had sent your date an anonymous letter threatening them to not show up or the dark secret he had found out about them would soon be exposed to everyone.

You're none the wiser about Light's secret manipulations, simply grateful for what a nice and supportive friend you have.

But being friends with you isn't enough for Light anymore. He needs to be more than that. He's already managed to isolate you from all your other friends but you just aren't falling for him fast enough. So he hatches a plan to force you to seek him out, to make you come running into his arms.

Having waited for such a long time, Light is nearing his wit's end at the fact that you aren't his yet. So just this once, he is willing to use the Death Note to get you to fully rely on him.

Quickly, he finds the name of a petty criminal who has already been released from prison and writes an entry in his notebook.

Suddenly, you start receiving strange letters at home. Twisted declarations of love sent by an unknown sender. They claimed to have been watching you for a while, waiting for you to truly notice them and fall for them as well. They describe your daily routine in great detail, indicating that they must have been following you. They promise that you won't have to wait long, that you will soon finally be together without any obstacles in the way.

The contents of the letter make a chill go down your spine and soon enough, you don't feel safe in your own home anymore. You feel watched, as if someone was just around the corner, staring at you. It was highly unnerving and soon, you would tell your best (and at this point only) friend Light about the creepy letters you've been receiving and that you had the sinking feeling that you were being watched.

Light of course showed great concern and offered to stay at your side for the entire day. He would make sure no creep would get to you as long as he was around. And sure enough, with Light around you felt safer, as if nothing could harm you anymore. You could spend the rest of your day at ease, knowing that your friend would protect you if anything were to happen.

But as soon as Light would bid you farewell after escorting you back to your home, you would feel an unsettling chill going down your spine once more as the feeling of being watched returned. You were scared again, fearing that your stalker might climb through your window and kidnap you at any moment. You barely got any sleep in the night, practically jumping out of your skin anytime you heard a loud noise outside.

Morning couldn't come soon enough, when you would see Light again and this nightmare would stop, at least until you would once more return home.

Soon enough, your mind would start associating Light's presence with the feeling of being safe and his absence with intense fear and discomfort. Parting from him would grow more difficult every single day and he was counting on that.

The same routine would continue for a few days until one day, you couldn't take it anymore. As Light moves to say goodbye to you once more in front of your house you yell in protest and hold on to his arm, making him stop in his tracks.

You explain to him that you just don't feel safe anymore at home and that his presence is the only thing that can put you at ease. You tell him that only he makes you feel safe anymore and by the end of it, you're practically pleading with him to not go, to not leave you alone. You can't handle another night being alone, without him. You needed him by his side.

It was everything Light could have hoped for and the knowledge that this was his doing fills him with smug satisfaction that he masks with a genuine smile. He's quick to agree to your request and offers you to spend the night at his home instead. You could stay in his room even and maybe you would feel more at ease, knowing that he is there with you.

Of course, you agree and true enough, sleeping in his room was the most peaceful night you had in a while. With him next to you, you could feel like you could finally relax.

"I'm here for you. Don't worry, nothing will happen to you as long as I'm here."

From then on, your life became even more impossibly intertwined with Light's. Instead of just spending the entire day with him, you would now wake up next to him, eat breakfast in his home, walk to and from school alongside him, and fall asleep curled up next to him. And you felt happy like this.

The next time your parents would ask you about your relationship with Light, you would answer that he made you feel like no one else ever has and they would congratulate you, all while saying that they always knew you two would start dating one day.

And Light? He couldn't be happier that his plan worked out. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder but forced proximity under the stress of possible death works just as fine in his opinion.

A few days later, a petty criminal would be found dead outside your old home, in their hand another twisted love letter addressed to you, clear evidence of their crime.

" My love, the wait is finally over. Finally, I get to hold you in my arms as I have always longed to. Finally, you're all mine, forever and always."

It was quickly deduced that this person must have been the one stalking you for the past few days. You were relieved that it was finally all over, that you no longer had to fear for your life. But at the same time, you were glad that it had happened for otherwise, you might have never come to realize just how much you loved Light, the person who had been your best friend for the longest time and always stood by your side when things got difficult. When others would leave you, you knew that Light would always stay.

Being led away from the crime scene by your boyfriend, walking hand-in-hand, you can't help but wonder if maybe someone else had been watching over you all this time as well. You take a last glance at the motionless body lying in front of your door, then turn back around to whisper a silent thank you towards the heavens.

Your stalker's cause of death? Why, a heart attack of course.

[rmadridcore]

Love in Slow Motion

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Summary: Nine times Jude felt a strange warmth whenever he was around you, and one time he finally realized what it was.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author’s note: took a break from writing, but i’m back with a little fluffy Jude fic 🤍 i’ll start getting through my requests as well 🫂

The type of relationship you and Jude had was very special to him. It hasn’t been too long since you two became a couple and he wasn’t the type to get too serious, too fast. He preferred keeping things casual — no heavy responsibilities, no complicated emotions, just light and easy. But that all shifted when you walked into his life. It was like a switch flipped, and suddenly, what used to feel complicated or burdensome didn’t seem that way anymore. He found out how peaceful it could be to have the right person by your side. With you, everything felt good, natural. He was attracted to you, sure, but it went far beyond that. There was this deep respect, an admiration that ran much deeper than anything he had ever experienced before. And he was glad to have you in his life.

But then there was that other feeling. It was subtle at first, a strange, confusing fuzz in the pit of his stomach. A warmth that spread through his chest and left him feeling... overwhelmed, in the best possible way.

The feeling would hit him at the most random times, uninvited but never unwelcome. He couldn’t quite put a name to it at first, but it was undeniable — it was strong, intense, and utterly inescapable when he was around you. And it took him a while, 10 moments to be exact, before he finally realized what that feeling really was.

The first time it hit him was during an ordinary Tuesday at his place. You two had just come back from the gym, snacks in hand — a little indulgence after an intense workout. You sat cross-legged on the floor near the coffee table, meticulously sorting through your favorite candy, arranging them by color like it was some life or death mission. Jude couldn’t help but watch, utterly mesmerized. The way your brows furrowed in concentration, the seriousness in your expression over something so trivial. It was adorable. He didn’t even realize he was smiling, his heart swelling with that familiar warmth. He’d barely noticed it then, but that was the first time the feeling crept in.

The second time was less subtle. You two were lounging in bed, tangled up in each other’s arms as the worst crime series he’d ever seen played on TV. You loved it, adored it, despite how horrendously predictable and dull it was. If it were up to him, that show would never grace his screen, not in a million years. But when you asked him to watch it with you, he couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to. Even though he didn’t care for the show, he found himself invested — not in the plot, but in the way your face lit up during the ridiculous twists, how you laughed at the over the top dialogue. It hit him then, that same feeling, stronger this time. He didn’t care about the show. He cared about you, about how happy you were. And somehow, that made it all worth it.

The third time it hit him was at dawn. Thirst had woken him up in the middle of the night, and after a quick drink of water, he climbed back into bed. But sleep didn’t return as easily. Instead, he found himself gazing at you — your sleeping figure, so peaceful, so serene. You looked perfect, nestled into the fluffy pillow with the blanket pulled up to your chin. His heart swelled as he watched you, that same unamenable feeling washing over him again. There was something mesmerizing about how relaxed and beautiful you looked, your soft features illuminated by the faint light creeping through the curtains. You were flawless to him, like a dream come to life. And as he lied there, wide awake, he realized how happy it made him to be the one who got to fall asleep and wake up next to you. He was happy, so happy, and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

The fourth time came just before he had to leave for training. He was sitting at the kitchen table, lazily texting his brother, when you came over and placed a cup of coffee in front of him. You gave him a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom, leaving him to take his first sip. As the warm liquid touched his lips, it hit him — you hadn’t asked him how he liked his coffee in months. Only once, when you first started seeing each other. Since then, you had memorized his exact preferences, down to the smallest detail, making it for him just the way he liked without ever needing a reminder. That tiny, thoughtful gesture struck him harder than anything else could have. You knew him so well, and you cared enough to remember the little things. It was a simple moment, but it made him feel that same warmth, that same fuzzy feeling in his chest, stronger than ever.

The fifth time was during a dinner at your friend’s house. The evening had been fun, filled with laughter and conversations, but it was after dinner when that familiar feeling surged through him again. The guests had spread around the house, sipping on drinks and chatting in small groups. He had just come back from the balcony, where he had been talking with a few friends, when he spotted you across the room. You were sitting on a couch with your girlfriends, your head thrown back in laughter, the sound echoing through the room. God, you were beautiful. The way you laughed, so carefree, so full of joy, it made his breath hitch. Your eyes crinkled at the corners, your cheeks flushed from whatever joke had you in stitches, and he felt like time stopped for a moment. In that instant, all he wanted was to hold onto that image of you, happy and glowing. He wanted to freeze time, to keep you laughing forever. It was in moments like that when he felt it the most, this overwhelming, undeniable feeling.

The sixth time hit him when he was getting ready for an award show. You had been by his side all evening, calming his nerves, reassuring him with your words, building him up when he felt uncertain. He loved how involved you were in his career, how you were genuinely his number one fan. As you stood there fixing his collar, making sure he looked perfect before he walked out the door, that feeling rushed over him again. There was something so tender about the way you took care of him, focused on every little detail, and it hit him just how lucky he was to have someone who cared this much.

The seventh time happened on a simple stroll through the city. You loved being outdoors when the weather was nice, and Jude loved tagging along, happy to do anything that brought a smile to your face. As you two walked hand-in-hand along the sidewalk, an adorable white puppy caught your attention. Without a second thought, you dropped Jude’s hand and rushed over to pet the dog, kneeling down and squealing at how cute it was. Watching you gush over the puppy, completely losing yourself in the moment, made that warm, fuzzy feeling flood his chest again. He stood there, grinning, watching as you melted into a bundle of squeaks and giggles, and all he could think was how much he loved seeing you happy.

The eighth time came after one of the hardest days he’d had in a while. Exhausted and stressed, he came home expecting to collapse, but instead, he was greeted by the heavenly smell of his favorite meal cooking. You had surprised him, knowing full well that he’d be grumpy and starving after the long day. The house smelled like comfort, and you acted like it was no big deal, just something you casually did to make his day a little better. But to him, it meant everything. He kissed you as a way of saying thank you, feeling so grateful for how effortlessly you made his life better. You always knew exactly how to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

The ninth time was pure simplicity. He had just gotten out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, another one in hand as he dried his hair. He walked into the living room and saw you lounging on the couch, reading a book and wearing his T-shirt. Something about you in his clothes, looking so relaxed and at home in his space, hit him hard. It was such a small thing, but it sent that familiar warmth surging through him, stronger than ever. The sight of you so comfortable in his world, in his shirt, made him realize — he could get used to this. In fact, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

And the tenth time was the epiphany. You two were out grocery shopping, preparing for a dinner party you were hosting for your friends over the weekend. As you wandered through the aisles, picking and choosing what you needed for the meal, Jude followed behind you, pushing the cart loaded with products. He watched you with soft admiration as you weighed your options, debating what dessert to serve. It struck him how perfectly domestic everything felt; how easy, how natural, and how real it was.

Everything he once feared, commitment, responsibilities, routine, was now something he craved with you. He loved the simplicity of it all, the way you moved through life together with such ease. This wasn’t just about being comfortable; it was about feeling truly at home with you. And then, it hit him. That feeling he had been experiencing all along, that warmth in his chest — it was love.

It was love that made him stare at you sorting candy like it was the most captivating thing in the world. Love that had him watching that awful crime show with you, just to hold you close. Love that kept him glued to your sleeping face at dawn. Love that made your laugh the best sound he had ever heard, and the way you made his coffee exactly how he liked it felt so special. Love that made him emotional when you adjusted his collar, and why watching you squeal over a random dog on the street made his heart melt. It was love that made your cooking the best thing he could ever come home to, and why seeing you in his clothes felt so right.

He loved you — deeply, more than he ever thought possible. And as he looked at you then, standing in the grocery aisle, he was sure of one thing: when you looked back at him, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that you loved him just as much.

[big-poppa23]

Something Like Her Part 3

synapse: its day three and as hyun-ju and y/n grow closer—things began to grow more intense

pairing: hyun-ju x female!reader

contains: transphobia, death, cursing

a/n: ten days left until season three. my goal is to publish an imagine at least once a day until then but this came late today so enjoy

series parts in case you missed them:

PART ONE PART TWO PART FOUR

. . .

The dormitory still slept under a blanket of gray shadows, minutes away from the jarring flood of artificial light and the sharp voices that marked each new morning.

Hyun-ju stirred first.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, the stiffness in her limbs familiar now, the ache of another night survived sinking into her bones. She sat up with a quiet breath, letting the fog of sleep clear — and then she saw her.

Y/N sitting at the edge of her bunk, arms loosely wrapped around her knees, her back resting against the cold metal railing that separated their beds. She stared ahead, unmoving, her face unreadable in the dimness.

Hyun-ju rubbed her eyes and scooted up toward the top corner of her bed where their bunks met, her voice still rough with sleep. “You’re up already?”

Y/N didn’t move.

Hyun-ju leaned forward a little more, trying to read her face. “Are you okay?”

Y/N glanced over briefly. Her nod was barely perceptible. But it wasn’t convincing.

“You don’t look like it,” Hyun-ju said softly.

A long silence followed. Then Y/N exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just thinking about the next game.” Her gaze dropped to her hands, fingers absently picking at the edge of her sleeve. “I could die today,” she murmured, “just as my life started making sense.”

Hyun-ju didn’t speak at first. She let the words settle — the weight of them, the truth. She knew that feeling. That cruel irony. To finally begin to feel real — only to be reminded how easily everything could end. Carefully, she reached her arm across the railing, letting her fingers brush lightly against Y/N’s. “Then we make today count,” she said quietly.

Y/N turned to her, eyes meeting hers in the soft hush before dawn. There was fear there. But there was something stronger underneath it. Something alive.

“Whatever the next game is,” Hyun-ju said softly, her fingers curling tighter around Y/N’s hand, “we’ll stick together and figure this out.” Her thumb traced a slow, grounding circle across Y/N’s knuckles. “I said I’d protect you. And I’m going to do it.”

Y/N looked at her — really looked — and nodded, her voice a breath of warmth in the cold air. “You protected me twice now. I believe you.”

The words sat between them like a promise. Not loud, not dramatic — but steady. Certain. The kind of belief you don’t give lightly, especially in a place like this.

Y/N’s eyes shifted toward the wall clock.

00:00:30

Thirty seconds until the lights returned. Until the room would flood with noise, movement, and tension. Until this fragile silence shattered.

Hyun-ju saw it in her face — the fear of time, of what came next. The ache of what might be lost. So she didn’t wait.

She leaned over the railing into Y/N’s bunk, her hand rising gently to cradle her face, thumb brushing her cheek as if memorizing it. And then she kissed her.

Soft, sure, and real.

Y/N didn’t hesitate — she leaned into the kiss instantly, her hands gripping the edge of the bunk as if to keep herself from floating away. She kissed her like it might be the last chance. Like this moment could be carved into time before the world took it away.

It wasn’t desperate — it was deliberate. Each second stretching long and full and aching with everything left unsaid.

The lights clicked on.

But they didn’t stop right away.

Even in the sudden flood of artificial white light, they stayed close — breathing each other in, foreheads touching for a suspended moment longer.

Whatever the next game held…Whatever waited on the other side of that door…

For now, they had this.

. . .

The next game was announced with a name that sounded harmless enough.

Mingle.

But nothing in this place was ever harmless.

The players were led into a massive, brightly lit chamber — a sharp contrast to the dim dormitories they’d grown used to. Smooth concrete walls loomed around them, sterile and echoing. Along the perimeter, neon-colored doors pulsed with eerie light, each one marked with a glowing number above it.

In the center of the room, embedded in the floor like a forgotten relic, was a massive circular platform. Its metallic surface gleamed beneath the harsh lights, motionless…for now.

The rules were simple yet brutal: the platform would spin, and a cheerful children’s song, Round and Round, would play. When it stopped, a number would be called out. Players would have just thirty seconds to form groups of that number and make it into a room before the doors locked. Those left outside would be…eliminated.

The simplicity of it made it all the more horrifying.

Too big a group? Too small? Too slow? Dead.

Player 149 and her son, 007, lingered close to Y/N and Hyun-ju, their faces pale under the fluorescent lights.

“How should we play this?” 007 asked, glancing between them. “Is there a strategy?”

Y/N and Hyun-ju exchanged a look. That silent understanding. That anchor. They would stay together — no matter what.

“If the number’s bigger than five,” Y/N said carefully, “we’ll find people.”

“And if it’s smaller…” Hyun-ju reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. Her voice was calm but resolute. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Y/N nodded. “Let’s trust each other.”

“And stay calm,” 007 added, trying to sound confident. “We got this.”

The four of them stood in a loose circle and, without speaking, reached in — hands stacking one on top of the other like a makeshift team.

A heartbeat later, the platform began to spin. Y/N stepped onto it quickly, gripping Hyun-ju’s hand tighter as the surface beneath them slowly rotated. The room blurred with motion. Lights danced across faces. Neon doors spun around them like a carousel from hell. And then the music began. A cheery version of “Round and Round” played overhead, its childish melody mocking the fear pulsing through every chest in the room.

Y/N kept close to Hyun-ju, her grip firm. It would be easy to get separated in a crowd this large — especially when panic set in. But she wasn’t going to lose her. Not here. Not now.

The music played on, sweet and sickening. Y/N’s heartbeat matched the tempo.

They were in it now.

The music cut off abruptly.

The platform came to a grinding halt, and Y/N stumbled, catching herself on Hyun-ju’s arm just as the voice overhead rang out, cheerful and cruel:

“Ten.”

Bright lights pulsed to life — purple, pink, and electric blue flashing around them like a twisted nightclub, dizzying and surreal. A countdown appeared on the wall in harsh digital red: 00:30

“How many are you?” a voice shouted. Player 456, breathless, wide-eyed—had stepped toward them.

“Four,” Hyun-ju replied quickly.

“We need one more!” Y/N called out to the chaos. “One more!”

The crowd surged around them, shoving and scattering like ants under fire. Y/N’s hand clutched Hyun-ju’s until Hyun-ju saw her again— Player 220 — standing dead center, murmuring something under her breath, her hands raised in eerie devotion.

Hyun-ju let go. “Hold on,” she said, dashing forward and grabbing Player 220 by the arm. “Come on, move!”

She yanked her into motion, dragging her back toward Room 44. Their group of ten pushed inside just as the final second blinked out on the timer. The door slammed shut with a mechanical hiss, locking them in.

A second later, gunfire echoed from the hall beyond.

Those who hadn’t made it were eliminated.

Y/N closed her eyes briefly. Then reopened them…

The next round came fast. The platform spun again. Another number.

“Three.”

Y/N and Hyun-ju didn’t waste time — their hands found each other instantly, and they held tight, calling out as they searched for one more. “One more! We need one more!”

00:24

Y/N’s eyes swept the crowd — and landed on Player 095, Young-mi, standing frozen and alone, her eyes wide with fear.

“Young-mi!” Hyun-ju shouted, already trying to reach her.

But the crowd moved like water in a storm. A group shoved between them, hard and breaking Y/N and Hyun-ju’s grip. Y/N cried out, reaching back, but it was too late.

A man grabbed her from behind. Thick arms wrapped around her middle as she was lifted off the ground. “What the— Hey! Let go!”

“I got you,” he grunted, dragging her toward a door. His friend waved him in from Room 17, already standing inside.

“Hyun-ju!” Y/N screamed, twisting in his grip.

Hyun-ju shoved through people, wild-eyed, reaching back for her but Young-mi clung to her arm, panicked, stalling her for half a second too long.

Y/N was shoved inside Room 17 just as the door slammed behind her, sealing her in.

She spun on the man the moment her feet touched the floor. “You fucking asshole!” she spat, shoving him with all her strength. “I had a group!”

“You needed one more. I saved your life,” he said quickly, defensively.

“I didn’t need your fucking help, dick!” she snapped, her voice shaking. “I had it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you and that wannabe girl? Sure. You looked like you were killing it.”

Silence. Her chest heaved.

Then, snap.

Y/N grabbed the front of his jacket and slammed him against the wall so fast he barely had time to react. “Say that again,” she hissed. “Say it.”

His smirk faltered.

“You call her that again, I’ll kill you myself,” she snarled. “I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of the next round. You don’t get to breathe in her direction again or talk about her again.” She let go of him with a hard shove, stepping back, fists clenched.

He stared at her like she’d lost it.

Maybe she had. But she didn’t care.

All she could think about was Hyun-ju, out there, possibly thinking she’d been abandoned.

All she wanted was to get back to her.

The moment the doors unlocked with a loud click, Y/N was already moving.

She burst out of the room, her feet hitting the floor hard as she scanned the crowd. Dozens of dazed players spilled back into the arena, their faces blurry and unfamiliar.

Her eyes weren’t looking for anyone else. They were looking for Hyun-ju.

“Y/N!”

The voice came from her left, and she turned to see Mrs. Jang, Player 149, hurrying toward her, her eyes brimming with relief. “Thank goodness,” the older woman breathed, pulling her into a tight hug. “You’re okay.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around her, surprised by how comforting it felt — warm, real, maternal. Not even her own parents had ever hugged her like this. Not like she mattered. But Mrs. Jang held her like she did.

“Yeah… thank you,” Y/N said softly as they pulled apart. Her voice caught a little. “Have you seen Hyun-ju?”

Mrs. Jang opened her mouth to answer but another voice cut through the noise.

“Y/N!”

She turned, and there she was — Hyun-ju, jogging across the room, her expression torn between panic and relief. Her eyes locked on Y/N’s like nothing else existed.

Y/N didn’t wait. She ran to meet her halfway and threw her arms around her, clutching her tight, as if anchoring herself. “God, I was so worried about you,” she breathed, burying her face in her shoulder.

Hyun-ju held her just as fiercely. She pulled back only enough to cup Y/N’s face in her hands, brushing her thumbs over her cheekbones. “Me? I was worried about you.” Her voice cracked. “Are you okay? Did he—?”

“With you here,” Y/N whispered, “I am now.”

Hyun-ju let out a quiet laugh — not mocking, but overwhelmed. The kind of laugh you let slip when relief takes the air out of your lungs. The words hit her hard, and she didn’t bother hiding how much they meant.

She leaned in and kissed Y/N — soft, brief, grateful.

Y/N immediately kissed her back, her hands rising to rest over Hyun-ju’s, savoring the contact. When she pulled away, her forehead rested against hers. “Let’s stay together.”

Hyun-ju nodded, no hesitation. “Always.”

She reached up and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, her touch tender in contrast to the steel and blood around them. Then she slipped her hand into Y/N’s, their fingers lacing naturally, like they’d been doing it for years.

Together, they stepped back onto the platform.

Whatever the next number was, whatever game came next, they would face it as one.

The next round passed in a blur of noise and chaos…

Y/N barely remembered the number — six, she thought — or the way they’d all had to squeeze into one room, elbows digging, breath held, as bodies pushed and scrambled toward safety. She remembered Young-mi trying to run beside them. Remembered the sharp gasp. The fall.

Someone — Player 333 — had surged forward and rushed into the room just before the door slammed shut.

Young-mi hadn’t made it.

There was no time to say goodbye. No final words. No grace in her ending.

Just cries. Then silence.

And then — nothing.

When the door opened again, she was gone.

The grief hit everyone, but it hit Hyun-ju like a brick to the chest. She didn’t cry. She didn’t yell. She just stood there — too still, her expression blank, but her eyes…Her eyes looked like they were somewhere else.

Y/N didn’t press her. She just stood nearby, close enough to be felt. To be there.

The platform spun again — one final round.

The remaining players stepped onto it numbly, their steps heavy, their souls even heavier. The music played. Lights flashed. The fake joy of it all scraped against the inside of Y/N’s skull.

She glanced over at Hyun-ju. Grief clung to her like fog — a quiet devastation. She wasn’t moving. She didn’t look afraid. She just looked… lost.

Y/N’s heart twisted.

Then the music cut out. The platform jerked to a stop.

“Two.”

Y/N didn’t think. She grabbed Hyun-ju’s arm, yanking her forward with sudden urgency. “Come on,” she breathed.

Hyun-ju stumbled forward, eyes snapping into focus like she’d been underwater and finally broken the surface. Her hand gripped Y/N’s wrist tightly, grounding herself in the one thing still real.

They ran. Side by side.

Feet slamming against the metal floor, weaving between stunned players, their only thought ‘survive, survive, survive.’

Y/N spotted a door — bright blue, still open and lunged for it, shoving it open with her shoulder. Hyun-ju was right behind her.

The moment they were both inside, Y/N turned and slammed it shut, her breath ragged, her palms pressed to the door as the countdown hit zero.

The lock clicked into place.

They were safe.

But Y/N didn’t feel relief.

She turned to Hyun-ju, who leaned against the opposite wall, chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes still distant. She looked like she hadn’t even noticed the room.

Y/N stepped closer, brushing her hand gently against Hyun-ju’s arm. “Hey,” she whispered. “You’re not alone.”

Hyun-ju closed her eyes.

And for a moment, neither of them said a word. But the silence between them was no longer empty.

“I know,” Hyun-ju murmured, her voice barely more than breath. She didn’t face Y/N. Her eyes remained fixed on the brightly colored wall ahead, glowing with its false, manufactured cheer. Her silhouette looked sharper under the sterile lights — her body still, but her grief palpable. “I have you,” she said quietly.

Y/N took a slow step closer, her voice steady, though her chest felt tight with emotion. “I’m sorry about Young-mi.” She meant it. She knew what that loss meant — not just another death in the Game, but the loss of someone who had seen Hyun-ju as she was, who had treated her not like a curiosity, not like a compromise — but like family. “But I need you to survive,” Y/N added, softer now. “In just three days, you’ve become someone important to me. I need you to be okay.”

Hyun-ju let out a slow exhale, her forehead lightly pressing against the wall in front of her. She didn’t speak, but she nodded once — slow, deliberate. A silent ‘I hear you.’

Y/N didn’t push. She stepped closer, closing the last bit of space between them. She reached out, slipping her arms gently around Hyun-ju’s waist from behind, holding her close. Her head rested between her shoulder blades, fitting perfectly there — like this was where she was meant to be.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, slowly, Hyun-ju looked down at the arms around her — Y/N’s arms — and her own hands rose to cover them. She traced Y/N’s fingers with her thumbs, grounding herself in the feeling, in the truth of this connection.

“I’m gonna keep my promise,” Hyun-ju said, her voice low but resolute. “I’m gonna stay alive. I’m gonna protect you.”

Y/N smiled faintly against her back, the words sinking deep. “Not just for me, sweetie,” she whispered. “Stay alive for yourself, too.”

She tightened her arms just a little — not enough to suffocate, just enough to say I’m here. “And I’ll protect you, even if you don’t need it. That’s my promise.”

Hyun-ju closed her eyes, her hands still wrapped around Y/N’s.

And for the first time since Young-mi’s death, she allowed herself to breathe again — not just with her lungs, but with her heart.

. . .

The dormitory felt different now.

Not quieter — just heavier. Like the air itself had taken on weight, thick with tension, grief, and exhaustion. The remaining players had cast their votes, voices brittle with desperation or defiance.

And the result?

A tie.

No freedom. No end. Just one more day.

One more day to survive. One more day to hope. One more day to fear.

Y/N sat beside Hyun-ju on the narrow bunk, their legs brushing gently, a quiet point of contact. They both held their assigned meals — two small rolls of kimbap, wrapped in foil. Bland, but warm.

The dormitory buzzed softly with the low murmur of other players, but around them, it felt still.

Y/N unwrapped her roll, staring at it for a moment before tearing a piece off and eating it in silence. Then, after a beat, “Hyun-ju,” she mumbled, not quite looking at her.

Hyun-ju glanced over instantly, gentle as always. “Hmm?”

Y/N’s voice dropped into a whisper, like saying it too loudly would make it real. “I… I’m scared about this vote.” She paused, her eyes fixed on her food, shoulders tense. “I’m scared of playing more games. Of dying.”

The admission hung between them — raw and real and terrifying. It wasn’t the kind of thing you said out loud in here. Not unless you were ready to be seen.

Hyun-ju didn’t respond right away. She set her half-eaten kimbap on her lap and reached over slowly, curling her fingers gently around Y/N’s. Her hand was warm. Steady. “I’m scared too,” she said softly. “I just…try not to show it.”

Y/N finally looked at her — eyes wide, lips trembling at the edges. “How do you do that?”

Hyun-ju smiled, small and a little sad. “Because if I fall apart, I’m afraid I won’t be able to put myself back together again. But with you here…” Her thumb brushed lightly over Y/N’s knuckles. “It’s easier to hold on.”

Y/N blinked hard, the weight in her chest pressing closer to the surface.

Hyun-ju squeezed her hand gently. “We don’t have to be fearless,” she whispered. “We just have to survive long enough to make this mean something.”

Y/N leaned her head against Hyun-ju’s shoulder, their hands still entwined. “If I didn’t have you here, I think I’d lose my mind.”

“You’re not going to lose anything,” Hyun-ju murmured. “Not while I’m here.”

The lights above flickered once, a cold reminder of the world they were still trapped in.

But in that small space on the bunk, pressed close with kimbap in their laps and hands laced together, they had found a sliver of something the games hadn’t taken. Not yet.

Hyun-ju’s voice broke the silence, barely more than a breath. “But… if we get out of here,” she asked, “what’s your plan? What are you gonna do?”

Y/N stared down at the last bite of kimbap in her hand before she shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so focused on surviving that… thinking past that feels dangerous. Like I’ll jinx it or something.” She paused, her voice quieter now. “I don’t really have anything to keep me in Korea.”

Hyun-ju looked at her carefully. “What about family? Or…?”

Y/N gave a sad smile and shook her head. “My family’s…religious,” she said. “The kind that believes there’s only one way to live and one kind of person worth loving.” Her fingers fidgeted with the foil wrapper in her lap. “And I think if they found out about all the things I’m starting to figure out about myself…they’d crucify me for it. And I’m not going to shove this down just to please them. Not again.” She took a breath. “And I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to leave here and never see you again.”

Hyun-ju looked down at her own hands, tracing the crease of her palm with a thoughtful thumb. Then, slowly, she spoke, “What if…you came to Thailand with me?”

Y/N’s head turned sharply, eyes wide. “Really?”

Hyun-ju nodded, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “We could go together. Start over somewhere quiet. Somewhere warm. I’ll take you on a proper date — not one with lukewarm kimbap and fluorescent lighting.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, the heat rushing to her face as a smile spread before she could stop it. “Yeah,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “I’d like that. Very much.”

Their hands found each other again — not hurried, not desperate but just right. Y/N ran her thumb gently along Hyun-ju’s knuckles, playing with her fingers like she never wanted to let go. “For now,” she whispered, “I’ll take stolen kisses…and anything else I can get.”

Hyun-ju chuckled under her breath, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “You’ll get a lot more than that, if I have anything to say about it.” She smiled faintly and leaned in again. “But for now, let me give you more,” she whispered.

Her lips met Y/N’s, and this time, it wasn’t fleeting.

It was slow. Deliberate. Full of everything they hadn’t said, everything they were afraid they wouldn’t get the chance to say.

Y/N responded instantly, her hand rising to Hyun-ju’s jaw, fingers tracing the curve of her cheek, anchoring herself in the kiss. It deepened as their breaths mingled, warm and uneven. Hyun-ju tilted her head slightly, pressing in with more purpose now — no hesitation, no second-guessing.

This wasn’t a goodbye kiss. It wasn’t desperate.

It was craving—born from days of near-death, sleepless nights, soft glances, and hearts gradually unfolding.

Hyun-ju’s hand slipped around Y/N’s waist, pulling her just enough to close the last sliver of space between them. Y/N shifted in response, nearly sliding into her lap, arms looping around her shoulders as the kiss grew more heated — deeper, slower, aching with unspoken need.

Y/N’s lips parted beneath hers with a soft breath, and Hyun-ju kissed her like she was trying to make the moment last forever — like she was memorizing every shape, every gasp, every gentle sound Y/N made in response.

The bunk creaked faintly under their movement, but neither noticed. They kissed like the world wasn’t watching, like time had folded in on itself just to give them this, a moment without death looming over them.

Hyun-ju’s hand cupped the back of Y/N’s neck, her touch firm but reverent. Y/N pulled her closer still, their bodies flush now, hearts pounding as if in sync.

‘Please don’t let this be the last time,’ Y/N thought, kissing her harder.

But for now, there was no fear. No regret. Just lips, hands, warmth.

Just them.

And when they finally pulled apart — breathless, foreheads resting together, lips red and swollen from the kiss, Y/N opened her eyes slowly.

Hyun-ju smiled, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “That wasn’t stolen,” she murmured. “That one was ours.”

And Y/N smiled too, the ache in her chest softening for the first time in days.

In a world built to destroy connection, they were building something fragile. But it was real. And that was worth surviving for…

That was until—

The dormitory door slammed open and ten players poured back in, both from X or O side, claiming that one side attacked each other.

Well, the moment was good while it lasted…

[llamagoddessofficial]

Llama! Llama! Llama! Please give up some crumbs of the Undercover au! You can't just cook so hard, delivered a delicious meal, then disappear leaving us hungry for more! DX

Sometimes, you stay at the office with Eos when he works late. Both of you like the company. You pull up a chair to his desk, and listen to the sounds of him working, watching the evening light fade away... lots of in-jokes, lots of heart-to-hearts, lots of lovely quiet moments together. Those are the times when you'll learn the most about him; his love of classical music, his artistic talents, his cute nerdy appreciation of owls. His dislike of the colour yellow.

He likes when you fall asleep next to him. He can put a jacket over you, listen to your breathing.

You notice that Eos acts quiet and boring when others are around, but while you're alone together, a different side of him is teased out. Something more confident... more playful. You just assume it's because he's shy, and he's opening up to you over time.

You know each other's coffee orders. Sometimes, in the mornings, it's a race to see who can get the other coffee first.

He walks you home a lot.

Eos, out of the two of you, is more cynical about the police - you still naively believe in justice, he's much more realistic about the corrupt world you live in. He acts that way mostly because Nightmare's dislike of the force is leaking through... but also because he's trying to slowly plant mistrust in you. He's subtle, feeding you the right information at the right time; showing you which sergeants are having their palms greased, which politicians were let off the hook because they paid off investigators, which sections of the police are under the thumb of organised crime. Sowing the seeds that will make your transition into a life with him easier.

After you caught Nightmare's eye at his party, you start receiving official invitations to his events. Sometimes, you show the invitations to Eos, because you can't believe Nightmare is paying so much attention to you.

The irony is apparent only to him.

Eos 'doesn't like' that you go to Nightmare's events, openly voicing his displeasure at the danger you're in... but you're determined to investigate Nightmare, prove a link between him and the crimes everyone knows he commits, and have him put away.

It absolutely crosses your mind that Eos and Nightmare look similar. But like. You NEVER think they're the same person. Because that's just impossible.

Nightmare is an outrageous flirt. His flirting stays classy, obviously, because he's a classy guy for you. But he makes it very clear what he wants to do to you. You're never prepared for it.

He likes when you argue with him. Calling him corrupt, evil, a murderer. He gets to flirt and play mind games with you... and when the tensions rise between the two of you he can tell you're just as attracted to him as he is to you.

Eos doesn't smoke. Nightmare does.

Nightmare kisses you before Eos. When you told Eos what happened, you lied and said Nightmare is an awful kisser. He's trying to figure out if you're lying to spare Eos' feelings or if he's genuinely lost his touch. Usually, he wouldn't care, but you make him feel weirdly self-conscious.

One time, you (foolishly) got drunk at one of Nightmare's parties. You passed out. When you woke up, bleary and confused with your head in someone's lap, you could've sworn Eos was with you - who else would be looking after you when you're drunk, gently carding their claws through your hair?

... Except it was Nightmare. Letting you rest after you passed out on him.

You refuse to talk about it. You expected him to act smug, or tease you... but he doesn't bring it up again.

He was not prepared for the intensity of your "I need to obliterate this nerd" feelings toward Eos. Despite the amount of flirting Nightmare dishes out, if you get very forward with Eos he will be caught off-guard and get extremely flustered.

[absdollievu]

Clash of Queens

councilpresident!abby x cheercaptain!reader

You don’t even want to go on this damn leadership retreat.

It’s a two-day overnight at some rundown lodge in the middle of nowhere, sponsored by the school district. Meant to “build teamwork” among student leaders. You tried to fake a cold to get out of it. Abby, of course, showed up ten minutes early with an extra clipboard and a thermos full of decaf tea.

The second you step off the bus, she’s already assigning name tags and task rotations like this is a military operation.

You get your room key. You glance at the little plastic tag and feel your stomach drop.

Room 207: Anderson, A.

And then, you see your first and last name next to hers

No.

Absolutely not.

You march straight up to the retreat coordinator.

“There’s been a mistake.”

He smiles like he gets paid to not care. “We’re pairing students up by position—president and captain, heads of organizations. It’s part of the trust-building curriculum.”

“I don’t trust her with my coffee order,” you hiss. “You want me to sleep in the same room as her?”

But it’s final.

You drag your suitcase down the hallway, seething.

⸻

She’s already in the room when you walk in—suitcase by the bed, sleeves rolled up, standing near the one window. There’s a twin bed in each corner, a dresser, and a heater that makes a noise like it’s dying slowly.

She doesn’t even turn when you enter.

“So we’re doing this.”

You slam your bag onto the dresser. “Unless you want to give up your spot and sleep in the woods.”

“Tempting,” she mutters.

You change in silence—both of you facing away from each other, acting like you’re totally unfazed. But it’s impossible not to notice the way her tank top stretches across her back muscles, the way her jaw clenches as she brushes her teeth, the way she never lets herself fully relax, not even when she sits on the edge of her bed.

Later, when the lights are off and you’re both lying in your own beds—wide awake—you can feel the tension in the air. You could cut it with a knife.

You shift under your blanket. “Can you breathe quieter?”

“Can you complain quieter?” she fires back.

You glare in the dark. “I can’t believe we have to do this again tomorrow.”

Abby’s voice is low. “I can’t believe you showed up in a glitter hoodie to a leadership retreat.”

You smirk into your pillow. “I can’t believe you brought a planner to a weekend in the woods.”

“I can’t believe you snore.”

“I do not snore.”

“You do. You sound like a congested chihuahua.”

You sit up, eyes narrowed in the dim moonlight. “I knew you were listening to me sleep, you perv.”

She snorts—actually snorts—and you’re so stunned you forget to be mad.

Then it’s quiet again.

Seconds stretch. And something changes.

You hear her shift under her blanket. “…This isn’t how I thought tonight would go.”

Your heart thuds.

You don’t speak for a moment.

Then: “How did you think it would go?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Then, softly: “Worse.”

You look over. She’s lying on her side, one arm tucked under her head, eyes faintly visible in the glow from the window.

You whisper, “Is this… us being civil?”

She exhales. “God, I hope not. That sounds boring.”

You bite back a smile. “Yeah. I like when you argue with me. You get all intense.”

“I’m always intense.”

“No,” you say. “Not like that. You get… louder.”

“And you,” she says, “you poke on purpose. Like you want to get a rise out of me.”

You hold your breath.

She adds, quieter: “You do.”

You swallow, hard. “Maybe I like how you look when you’re mad.”

Abby doesn’t move.

Your voice is barely audible. “Or maybe I just like looking at you.”

There’s a beat of silence. You hear the fabric of her blanket shift again. Her voice is tight now. Careful.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

You sit up slightly, your heart pounding. “What if I do?”

She shifts again. Now she’s sitting up, too—mirroring you across the tiny room. You can’t see her expression fully, but her eyes… they’re locked on yours. And for once, she doesn’t look annoyed. Or smug. She looks scared. Unsteady.

You whisper, “Abby—”

She’s out of her bed before you can finish, crossing the space between you in two steps. And suddenly she’s standing in front of you.

You don’t know who moves first—but suddenly her hand is on your face, and your fingers are curling in the hem of her sleep shirt, and her lips are right there.

Not touching.

Not yet.

Just close enough to taste the heat off them.

“I hate you,” she whispers.

You smile, eyes half-lidded. “No, you don’t.”

And then she kisses you.

Hard.

It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. It’s every insult, every glare, every breathless fight turned into something molten.

Her hands are in your hair, yours are sliding over her sides, nails scraping her skin where her shirt rides up. You’re breathless, gasping into her mouth, and she swallows every sound like it belongs to her.

She pushes you gently back onto your mattress, straddling you, her thighs caging you in. Her forehead rests against yours for a second, her breath shaky.

“This is a bad idea,” she mutters.

You nod. “The worst.”

Her mouth finds yours again.

Neither of you sleeps that night. Obviously

⸻

a/n: part 3??? Send more requests!!

[sevenwishesonshootingstars]

Long Awaited Wish: Descent of Our Beloved Star (2)

Part two of this. I haven't actually gotten around to doing the Natlan archon quest so please forgive anything that doesn't feel right or make sense. This is probably going to have more parts than I'd originally planned so I'm going to try to keep certain things short, which unfortunately means little focus on character interaction outside of the nation's leaders (and additional archon where applicable).

Next

It started in Natlan. The Stadium of the Sacred Flame was decorated immensely. It was vibrant and ornate and bustling, even more so than usual. Alongside the usual street art styled murals were now banners, flags, streamers, lights, and other decorative objects, some familiar and some not, all as bright and lively as the rest of Natlan’s culture was shown to be. And yet it was still more than you’d ever known it to be.

NPCs were buzzing around to complete various tasks and partake in numerous activities. They were eager, faces so expressive and movements so fluid you would have thought this was a cutscene and not regular gameplay. There were people from every tribe, and the interior was so packed with actually alive looking crowds you wondered if every NPC in the nation was there. Even more impressive, most of them actually noticed your presence (well the Traveler’s, or so you assumed) and seemed to light up at the sight. You knew the Traveler was something of a celebrity by now, but the sheer joy on some of their faces was almost overwhelming. They moved out of the way, cheerfully exclaiming they were glad to see you there, that they were happy you actually came, some even thanking you for showing up. Thanks to the third person point of view given by the cameras, you even saw a few people reach out and try to touch the Traveler’s arms and hair, appearing almost longing.

It was uncomfortable.

As much as you didn’t want to make a judgement before you even knew what was going on, you couldn’t help but feel suspicious of the intensity of their happiness. Sure the Traveler was a hero, but this level of adoration had seemingly come out of nowhere, kicking up to 11 over night. You were reminded of the moment in Sumeru when the people had been led to believe that the Traveler had just saved the world. The way everyone had been trying to get closer to them, closing in, zombie-like in their appreciation. And yet, the NPCs here were also the opposite. They seemed so alive, aware of their behavior, choosing to act this way on their own behalf. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

You were taken near the entry point of the actual stadium, where Mavuika was waiting, arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked, and mouth in her signature confident grin. “You’re here! Good, I want to show you what we put together,” she said, ushering you to come over. “We’ve been working non-stop to get this all set up and organized. Getting the entire nation in one place is easier said than done, but now that it is done, we ought to enjoy it!”

You leaned forward in your seat, eager to finally get some details on what was going on. She led you out into the stadium, where the NPCs had all packed together. They cheered at your shared entrance, so loudly that you recoiled slightly from the sound. Mavuika grinned at you and stepped forward to address the crowd while you watched from the other side of the screen in curiosity and confusion.

“People of Natlan, of every tribe, I welcome you all to the very first Long Awaited Wish Festival!” she yelled, excitement and pride bubbling under the confidence of her voice. “We've been to the Abyss and back, fighting to save our nation, our homes, and our families. We're in a new era, and it's now the time to celebrate how far we've come!”

You tilted your head. This was interesting… you noticed her namedrop the in-game event as a festival. Based on the event image, every nation that had been released was involved. Did they each have their own version of the festival? You snapped back to attention when the Pyro Archon's speech turned to the subject of you the Traveler.

“And now, we can’t forget the attendance of our Star,” she told the crowd as she grabbed the Traveler's wrist and pulled up their arm in celebration, a win of what you weren’t sure. “A vessel of guidance and greatness, our friend and hero, and an embodiment of will, our Star in tangible form, the Traveler!”

The crowd, as they say, went wild. People screamed in adoration and excitement, clapping and jumping. They waved signs and were all in their best clothes. Their eyes were all on you, and your stomach felt like TV static. You were unsure of what some of the archon's words meant too.

You spotted various playable characters in the crowd as well. The original gang, of course, Mualani cheering with Kachina on her shoulders while Kinich swatted disinterestedly at Ajaw. Ororon clapping, Varessa waving, and everyone in between and beyond them scattered about the stadium. All here for the Traveler, here for you.

After Mavuika's speech, the event was in full swing. The archon herself showed you around the festival, bringing you from booth to booth, many of which you got free things from. You noticed as you passed the NPCs that the option to speak was available for the majority of them.

The rest of the day was spent doing various festival activities in the form of challenges and mini games. There were lines for most of them, but you were apparently given a line skipping pass of some sort because the Traveler was always pushed to the front of the line regardless of what you did.

Each of the playable characters had a mini game they participated in with you, be it as a teammate or opponent. A balancing challenge with Iansan with the goal to carry progressively heavier weights while jumping over obstacles for as long as you can. An eating contest with Varessa, presented in the form of a Pacman parody with various dishes from across the nation instead of ghosts. A fruit catching game with Ororon where you had to go back and forth and use his skill to catch fruits falling from trees of different heights. An operation style game with Ifa, where touching the wrong thing triggered a buzzer. An underground maze with Kachina, throwing things through hoops while surfing with Mualani, a grappling/swinging race with Kinich, the list went on and on, each character trying in their own way to keep you the Traveler at theirs or guarantee a return.

You were surprised your phone hadn't exploded.

It had been a few hours and your battery was soon as good as dead, so you went to the eating area in the stadium to finish off. You were instructed by the game to sit at the table with Mavuika, so you did. Though you didn't notice at the time, everyone else watched with barely concealed disappointment that their Star was sitting with someone else, but she was the archon so it only made sense.

“Are you enjoying the festivities?” she asked. The dialogue options were really two different ways of saying yes so you just picked the first automatically. Mavuika beamed. “That's the spirit! It took a lot to put this together so I'd hope we did it right and actually put together something fun.”

The Traveler nodded, a smile just as bright on their own face. They seemed to be enjoying the ordeal, so… “Well, if you're having fun, I guess I don't mind the weirdness as much,” you muttered to the screen with a chuckle. Both of their smiles got brighter, but surely it was your imagination. You'd been looking at a screen for too long.

The meal was finished enthusiastically and soon it was time to set off back the way you came, to the previous nation and next celebration. You said goodbye to each playable character, the archon doing your final send off and whispering as you went, “Remember Natlan when the time comes.”

[fallingwillow]

tornado warnings

This was my first ever time writing a fic or doing something like this so please be nice💓

summary: You and Harry were just about to start exploring your relationship further than friendship when it stops before it can even start.

trope: forbidden love

part 1 - 2,248 words.

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“Did you just take the lollipop out of his mouth and put it into your own?” Simon asks with disgust and gestures between you and I while all 6 of us sit around yet another meeting table in a random office building in a random country. I’m pretty sure we’re in Cologne right now which is actually a pretty beautiful place when you get the chance to look around.

I glance to you beside me, now having my cherry lollipop between those perfect lips of yours. Honestly if you let me I would probably spend the rest of my waking moments in life kissing them and I wouldn’t have a single complaint. I send you a subtle wink once Simon turns his back to us again and returns to looking at the next plan for how we would all charm the world next with more songs that somehow fit the picture to just about every tween and teen person in the world.

Until a familiar Irish voice perks up…

“Ah but sharing saliva isn’t exactly new for those two now, is it?” Niall jokes, clearly having forgotten that it wasn’t just us and the rest of the boys in the room where he would be able to get away with those types of jokes.

My head snaps to Niall’s direction immediately, my green eyes narrowed and meeting his widened blue to give him a glare of warning to shut up and to not say anything more that could get you and I into trouble.

But it was too late. 

Simon’s hand paused in the air from where he had been writing on the whiteboard and his whole body stiffened for a moment as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard and didn’t know how to register the new information. It fell back down to his side as he slowly turned to Niall with a stern and unforgiving face.

“Would you care to explain to me, Mr Horan, how exactly Harry and Y/N have shared saliva before?” He asks with distaste at the question and also at how Niall had phrased it, like it physically repulsed him to repeat the previously stated words.

I clench my jaw and look at you nervously, you mirroring my anxiety with your own jaw slightly slack with shock, before I look back at Niall with a stare that says “fix it.”

Niall’s face grows hot as he looks between Louis, Liam and Zayn as if searching for help despite him having been the one that spoke the words that could now potentially ruin everything you and I had been trying to build together over the last week. 

“Uhh… What? Nah, nothing” Niall stammers out a pathetic response, his anxiety and guilt already beginning to consume him under Simon’s intense stare. He’s completely fucked up and he knows it. I think back to the moment and night I know he’s talking about and suddenly wish I was still in that moment, it was so blissful and surreal and I’d give anything to be there rather than here right now.

—

About a week earlier…

We had finished a particularly stressful concert a few hours prior to arriving at our hotel for tonight. Fans fainted, things were thrown, and I’m 99% sure now that Niall won’t be having kids. Not after one of the toy figures of us was thrown on stage and hit him right in the bollocks. I’m pretty sure it was a doll of himself too which only makes it funnier.

None of us even said goodnight to each other as we reached the floor our rooms were on. There were signs on the wall stating this was a “quiet area” and that after 11pm conversations must be hushed.  Now I knew that none of us had brought anyone back tonight however it wasn’t out of the ordinary for a couple of us to do so. So whatever hotel they had us staying in better be grateful that we were too exhausted to play around tonight.

I shoved the roomkey into the door of my room and watched as the little green light flickered to accept the chip inside the small piece of plastic that granted me access to my room and more importantly my bed. I was about to walk straight into my room and flop onto the bed without even bothering to change when I heard a soft voice behind me.

“Harry?”

Your sweet, angelic voice disrupts all my thoughts of sleep as I turn to look at you. My gaze softened immediately as my eyes traced over your delicate face that was lit up by the orange glow of the cheap hotel lighting, I could see every single detail on your face and it only made it more difficult for me to pretend like I wasn’t completely and utterly infatuated with you.

“Y/N? You okay? Need something before bed?” I ask gently, immediately going into a sort of protective mode that just happened whenever I was around you. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to keep you away from every single bad thing in the world and just keep you safe. And preferably in my arms.

Your head tilts a little, sort of mimicking how a dog would when it wants a treat or is curious, your melodic voicing ringing out and into my ears as you speak again. “I was just wondering how tired you are? Maybe we could hang out for a bit?”

“Nope. Not tired at all actually, come in.” 

Christ I was whipped.

We stepped into my hotel room. It was pretty standard, a double bed pushed against the centre of the wall with two oak bedside tables framing it. The white cotton sheets signature for every hotel room just about ever. I could already taste the oddly metallic coffee that I would make using the mini kettle sitting on the desk below the tv, accompanied by packets of sugar and miniature capsules of milk that always freaked me out because who knows how long they’ve been left out.

I walk further into the room and set down my rucksack full of clothes and other essentials like my toothbrush and toothpaste. I watch as you do the same, setting your bag next to mine before flopping on my bed as if it were your own and getting comfortable. God how I wished you actually were sharing my bed tonight and that I could hold you in my arms- No Harry. That’s your friend. Stop it, control yourself.

“Making yourself comfy?” I laugh as I join you and lie back, staring at the ceiling and grimacing slightly at the fact there was somehow coffee stains on the ceiling. I decide to distract myself from the thoughts consuming my mind of how much I wanted to shuffle closer to you by trying to make you laugh instead. “Right, here’s one for ya, how the fuck do you think someone managed to make coffee so terribly it ended up on the ceiling?”

Your soft laughs fill my ears and I’m immediately proud of the joke I made. We carried on talking for what felt like hours, which truthfully is what it ended up being. We got to the hotel at about midnight and it was now 3:00a.m. We spoke about how the tour had been going, how Liam had been pulling out some extra good pranks this time round and about anything else that came to our minds.

An adorable but sleepy yawn sounded from your throat, pulling me from the bliss of forgetting the real world around us and that we had a lot of stuff to do in the morning and another show that same evening. 

“Come on you, probably best you get going to your own room now” I sit up and pat your thigh gently to gesture for you to do the same, which you do but not without an adorable pout on your face that makes me want to retract the words I just said and give in to whatever you wanted instead.

“You’re kicking me out? Ouch Harry…” 

I roll my eyes jokingly and nudge your shoulder with mine, “Yeah, you’re stinking out my hotel room. Gonna have to spray deodorant after you lea-”

My words were cut off when you sleepily leant forward and pressed your lips to mine. Fireworks. That was the only word I could use to describe the feeling of having your lips pressed to mine after having pined for you for the last three years of knowing each other. I kiss you back lazily, my own tired brain not having enough energy to deepen it and show you how badly I really wanted to kiss you. However the gears in my brain start turning just enough to register that you actually just kissed me. The shock makes me lean back, my eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“Y/N what the fuck?! You- You can’t just kiss me after I was saying you smell I-” My words leave my mouth in a horrific stammer and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks which were definitely a terrible shade of red by now, all composure I ever had around you now having completely disappeared.

“Sorry H, I- um… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while and just how long we’ve been talking tonight it felt right in the moment. You’re right I shouldn’t have-”

Now it was your turn to get cut off. My lips found yours again and moved in an addictive harmony. My eyes closed and my brows furrowed as I put all the focus I had left in my exhausted brain into kissing you. It was like a beautifully composed sonnet had come to life in the form of our kiss. It was better than I could’ve imagined, better than the dreams I had that left me waking up in a cold sweat. We kissed for a few minutes more, exploring each other more than ever before and getting used to what the other responded well to before we pulled away and then did it all over again.

The rest of that night was a blur. I took you back to your hotel room and bid you goodnight at the door but not without a barrage more of kisses, still both in complete disbelief that we could now freely do that. I was so tempted when you pulled on the bottom of my shirt to try and coax me into your hotel room to keep kissing but I had been responsible for once and held off so that we could both get some much needed sleep, promising you that I’ll make it up to you tomorrow with extra kisses.

It turns out that also that night neither of us could keep the events to ourselves, needing desperately to share them with the others. I phoned and woke up Niall and Louis immediately while you did the same for Liam and Zayn and we both divulged the secret and our excitement for what this now meant for us.

—

Simon’s hand slamming down on the table pulled me out of my daydream and the sweet dreamland I had briefly escaped to. “You two are not to engage in any more romantic interactions, public or private. You have an image to uphold and your actions don’t only affect you but the rest of the band also. Do you understand me?” His loud voice boomed angrier than it should have in the small office and I was honestly surprised that no one had come knocking yet.

I look around the room to try and gather what I missed while being away with the clouds but the sight I was met with wasn’t a pleasant one. Louis, Liam, and Zayn all looked like they were just scared to even open their mouths with fear that they’d be shouted at too, their eyes were all blown out and strictly fixed to the table before them. Niall was staring at the floor with an incredibly guilty look on his face and refusing to look at anyone, the tips of his ears having turned red out of stress. And you, oh God you. You looked like you were ready to burst into tears any second now and the sight tugged at my heartstrings. It all registers to me that Simon must’ve gotten it out of Niall about our kiss and how we were exploring the parameters of our friendship.

“Right, yeah, we got it. No more.” I find the words leaving my mouth just to appease Simon. Not because I meant them, of course I didn’t mean them, but just because I knew how difficult you were finding tour this time round already and I knew Simon could make it a whole lot harder for you if we chose now to rebel against him and management. You were already in therapy for the struggles you’d been facing lately although I was 90% sure you haven’t been telling your therapist the whole truth about everything you were feeling and that only made me feel worse. However the way I see your face fall at my words out of the corner of my eye made me want to say fuck it all and be together anyway. My words must’ve hit you hard because when you finally compose yourself enough to speak all you can manage is a singular meek and muttered word.

“Understood.”

[raeofsunrise]

can I please request a blurb or something where the reader admires Mike’s eyes? it’s canon that he once went on a date with a girl in high school who never went on a second date with him because she said his eyes were “too intense” so I would love to see his reaction to the reader saying that it is their favorite thing about him :) I enjoy reading your work btw!

my favorite things

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

summary: mike has never had anyone compliment him, not in a long time, at least.

warnings: light cursing

word count: 389

author’s note: super short, but i just LOVE how this turned out. hope y’all love it ☆

“and i just can’t fucking believe how stupid this is because. . .”

mike was ranting about one of the many, many problems he had at his new job. you had been dating each other for about 4 months, but since this wasn’t your first time listening to him, you decided to fix your eyes on one of his features.

today, you decided to fixate yourself on his eyes. oh, you could get lost in his eyes forever. they were brown, but when the light shines on them, like how the sun does when he wakes up in the morning, there’s a slight greenish hue to them. they almost turn hazel. it reminded you of the clear, autumn sky.

it sounds cliché, but you thought that his eyes told so much about him. there was a tired, stressed look to his eyes. but in moments where it was just the two of you, together, alone, they were loving. longing. like you were what he was looking for for forever, and he finally found it.

“hey. hey, are you listening?”

mike brings you back down to earth with his question while waving his hand in your face. he doesn’t look upset at the fact that you were obviously not listening to him. he was just confused. a little amused, too. maybe there was something on your mind, he thought. i mean, you were staring into his eyes for five minutes straight, and he only noticed now.

“what’s with you?” mike asks.

“nothing, i just…you have really pretty eyes.” you confess.

he laughs and rolls his eyes. “yeah, sure.” he says.

“you do!” you suddenly get defensive. you knew he was never the confident type—hell, he rarely said one good thing about himself, but you were surprised that out of all the compliments you gave him, this was the one he denied?

“they’re my favorite thing about you.”

you move over to sit right next to mike, and you put his arm around your shoulder and lean into him.

“and i have a lot of favorite things about you, mike.”

you look up at him and smile. he smiles back, and suddenly all of the stress from his eyes disappeared, replaced only by love.

“oh, yea?” he asks.

he gives you a sweet kiss, one full of gratitude.

“tell me all about it.”

please give feedback! it’s very appreciated ☆

[fruitjoos]

I choose you

art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

part two

summary: you and art had a baby right after college, but you were both so young and had different goals, so you split. despite the separation, you co-parented well and moved on. then you met patrick, who brought a new light into your life and made you feel like yourself again. time moved quickly, and patrick wants to meet your daughter. When art and patrick finally come face to face, it stirs up old feelings and challenges. now, you’re left questioning whether you’re as strong as you believed.

It was one of those warm summer nights that should have felt serene, yet the air thrummed with a tension you couldn't shake. You stood at the edge of the driveway, arms crossed, watching as Art pulled up, your daughter in the backseat. Your pulse faltered the moment he stepped out of the car. He looked exactly the same as he always had. Composed, familiar, and infuriatingly steady.

This wasn’t where you thought you’d be at 25. Pregnant before you were ready, tied to a man you still loved but couldn’t seem to build a future with. You and Art had tried. When your daughter was born, you both clung to the dream of a family, thinking love would somehow mend the cracks. But love wasn’t enough. The breakup wasn’t explosive; it was the kind that left loose ends—unanswered questions and words left unsaid.

A year after the split, you met Patrick. He was different, uncomplicated. He brought laughter back into your life when you’d forgotten how to even smile. With him, life felt lighter, easier. After a year of dating, it seemed to be getting serious. He asked to meet your daughter, and for once, it didn’t feel overwhelming. It felt like the natural next step.

But Art lingered, a shadow over everything.

As you walked the pavement, Patrick trailing behind you, you hadn’t expected the world to tilt. Art was helping your daughter out of the car when he turned toward the house, his eyes instantly locking onto Patrick. For a moment, time stalled.

Patrick froze, his easygoing smile flickering into something softer, uncertain. His lips parted in surprise, a flicker of relief crossing his face, as if seeing Art was a dreaded confrontation he was somehow relieved to face. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and in that brief exchange, a faint echo of the friendship they once shared surfaced, a time before everything went wrong.

"Art?" Patrick’s voice was low, tentative, as if he were testing the weight of the name in the air. No anger, just surprise, perhaps even a hint of warmth.

Art’s reaction, though, was colder. His expression hardened, eyes narrowing as he glanced between you and Patrick. The sight of Patrick standing there, next to you, stirred something deep and bitter inside him. The last time they’d seen each other, their friendship had crumbled, leaving only unresolved tension in its wake. And now Patrick was here, comfortable, a part of the life Art had once imagined for himself.

“Patrick,” Art muttered, his voice as cool as his gaze. He couldn’t hide the jealousy that bubbled beneath the surface. His hand tightened slightly on your daughter’s shoulder as his eyes flicked over the scene before him. Patrick, beside you, looking like he belonged. Art’s jaw clenched. Patrick wasn’t supposed to be in the picture, but there he stood, like a ghost from the past Art hadn’t wanted to face.

You stood between them, feeling the tension thickening. You glanced between Patrick’s softened expression and Art’s tightened jaw, confusion swirling inside you.

"Oh, you two know each other?" Your voice broke the silence, a strained attempt to defuse the mounting tension.

Patrick gave a small, uneasy smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, you could say that."

Art’s eyes flicked to you, sharp, unreadable. "We used to." His tone was cool, laced with an unmistakable edge.

You walked toward him, your nerves fluttering. "Be nice," you whispered, locking eyes with him, the intensity between you a little too familiar. "Patrick’s a good guy. I really like him."

Art raised an eyebrow, smirking in that cynical way you knew too well. "I’m always nice."

You shot him a look, exasperated. "I’m serious. Please, don’t do this."

But there was something in his gaze that told you it was already too late.

Dinner began smoothly enough, or so you thought. Patrick was his usual charming self, effortlessly making your daughter giggle. But Art was watching, his eyes narrowing at every laugh, his mouth tightening when your daughter leaned into Patrick, laughing at his impressions.

Then it started—slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. Art casually questioned Patrick’s job, poking at his easygoing attitude. The comments grew sharper, until finally, Art set his fork down and said, "You don’t seem like the marrying type. Too... temporary."

Patrick tried to brush it off with a chuckle, but you noticed the tension in his jaw, the way his grip on his wine glass tightened.

Art didn’t stop. "Let’s be real. This isn’t going anywhere long-term. We have a child together, that’s forever. You and me? We’re family. Things always come full circle."

Your stomach dropped. The room fell into an awkward silence as Patrick’s smile disappeared. You glared at Art, but he just leaned back, clearly satisfied with himself.

The rest of the evening dragged on, the atmosphere thick with silent resentment. By the time Art left, your daughter tucked away in bed, Patrick had gone quiet. He stood in the kitchen doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, staring at the floor.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently, placing a hand on his arm.

"Do you want to marry me?" His voice was tight, catching you off guard. His eyes searched yours, filled with a doubt you hadn’t seen before. "You talked about marriage with Art... but you’ve never even mentioned it with me."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued.

"And kids... Do you want more? With me? Or is that off the table because Art’s already in the picture?"

"Patrick, no..." You sighed, running a hand over your hair. "It’s not like that."

"Then what is it?" His voice cracked, the frustration spilling over. "Because right now, it feels like I’m competing with him. Like no matter what I do, he’ll always be part of your life. Your real life."

Your heart clenched at his words, guilt gnawing at you. "This isn’t about you," you said softly. "It’s not about choosing him over you, or whatever contest you think he’s trying to win. I just... I can’t pretend Art doesn’t exist. He’s my daughter’s father, and that’s never going to change."

Patrick’s face softened, but the hurt lingered in his eyes. "I just don’t know if I can keep feeling like the second choice."

Your chest tightened. "Patrick, you’re not the second choice. You’ve brought light back into my life. Something I didn’t even realize I needed." You took his hand, but he hesitated. "I’m still figuring this out, and I can’t rush into anything. Not after everything that’s happened. Not when I’m still trying to be the best mother I can be."

Patrick exhaled slowly, his shoulders loosening as he pulled you into his arms. "Okay," he whispered, his voice warm against your hair. "No rush. Just us."

But the unease lingered in the days that followed. It seemed as though the tension had lifted, but beneath Patrick’s lighthearted demeanor, something deeper simmered.

One evening, as you sat on the couch after your daughter had gone to nap, Patrick’s voice broke the quiet.

"I know you need time," he said softly, his eyes serious, "but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m still competing with him." He looked down at his hands. "Hearing Art talk about how you two are a family... it got to me. Maybe I shouldn’t let it bother me, but it does. I see the way he looks at you, and I just—" He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don’t know if I’ll ever be enough."

Your heart twisted at his words. "Patrick, you are enough," you insisted, your voice strong. "What Art said…that was him trying to get to you. He knows how to push buttons, but it doesn’t mean anything. What matters is us."

Patrick sighed, his voice small. "But what if he’s right? What if, in the end, you and Art end up back together? You have a child with him. That’s a bond I’ll never have."

You reached out, cupping his face in your hands. "Art and I are over. Yes, we have a child together, and that will always connect us. But that’s all it is. I’m with you now. I chose you."

Patrick’s eyes softened as he exhaled shakily. "I just needed to hear that."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Let’s move on together. No more worrying about Art. No more doubts. Just us."

And for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. Despite the history with Art, you were choosing a future with Patrick. And for now, that was enough.

It was well past midnight when your phone lit up beside your bed, casting a soft glow over the room. You squinted at the screen, heart sinking slightly when you saw the name: Art.

You hesitated, thumb hovering over the message. Patrick was fast asleep beside you, his breath steady and calm and oblivious.

Are you up? Can we talk?

Your pulse quickened. It wasn’t like him to text this late. You thought about ignoring it, but something in the pit of your stomach told you that if you didn’t respond, he’d show up at your door. And besides, you were already awake, thoughts of Patrick’s earlier words still gnawing at you.

Yeah, I’m up. What’s going on?

The reply was instant.

I need to see you.

Slipping out of bed quietly, you tiptoed into the living room, sitting down on the edge of the couch. You didn’t know what to expect, but there was an uneasy feeling in your chest. After a few minutes, your phone buzzed again.

I’m outside.

You stood and crossed the room, pulling the curtain aside just enough to see his car parked out front. A sigh escaped your lips as you opened the door, stepping into the cool night air. Art was leaning against his car, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets. His eyes found yours immediately, a mixture of desperation and some other odd, unreadable emotion flickering in their depths.

“What’s going on?” you asked softly, wrapping your arms around yourself to ward off the chill, though you knew the cold had nothing to do with the sudden shiver running through you.

He exhaled heavily, pushing off the car and stepping closer. “I just... I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us. About our daughter.” His voice was low, rough, like he hadn’t slept in days. “This isn’t how things are supposed to be.”

You swallowed, unsure of where he was going with this, but the unease in your chest only grew. “Art, it’s late. If this is about something with our daughter—”

“It’s not just about her,” he interrupted, running a hand through his hair, his movements agitated. “It’s about us. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. How we were. What we had.”

A pit formed in your stomach. “Art...”

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel like the ground beneath you was shifting. “We’re supposed to be together. A family. I don’t care what happened between us in the past. I still love you. I never stopped.”

Your heart stuttered, confusion swirling in your mind. “You can’t just say things like that. We’ve both moved on. You know that.”

“Have we?” he shot back, voice sharp. “You can sit there and tell me you don’t feel anything when you see me? When we’re around each other?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words got caught in your throat because the truth was more complicated than you wanted to admit. There was always a pull with Art, always a part of you that couldn’t forget what you had shared. What you had lost.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“Well, I do,” he said, stepping closer still, his voice urgent. “You and I have a daughter together. We are bound for life, whether we like it or not. And that means something. We’re a family. We should be together. Not... not split up. Not dragging other people into our mess.”

You froze, your mind immediately jumping to Patrick. “What are you trying to say, Art?”

He sighed, frustration coloring his features. “Patrick isn’t part of this. He’s an outsider. I don’t care how much fun he is or how good he makes you feel. He doesn’t belong in this, with our family.”

Anger flared inside you, but you bit it back, refusing to raise your voice in the middle of the night. “Art, you don’t get to make that call. Patrick has been there for me in ways you haven’t.”

His jaw clenched. “Because you never gave me the chance. You shut me out. We broke up, and suddenly, you’re with him. What about us? What about trying to make this work for the sake of our daughter?”

“We tried,” you reminded him, your voice wavering. “We tried to make it work, and it didn’t. We hurt each other, Art. You know that.”

His hand reached out, gently brushing your arm, the touch so familiar it sent a shiver down your spine. “But we can try again. We should try again. For her. Don’t you see? A family is supposed to be together. Not fractured. Not pulled in different directions.” His eyes searched yours, the desperation there making your heart twist. “We owe it to her to give this another shot. To be a real family.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A part of you wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that it could be as simple as that. Trying again, picking up the pieces, and finding a way back to each other. But the other part of you, the part that had spent months rebuilding your life, knew it wasn’t that simple.

“And what about Patrick?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “He’s been good to me. To her. I can’t just throw him away because you suddenly decide you want us back.”

Art’s expression darkened slightly, his voice dropping. “He’s not part of this equation. You and I are the only ones who matter here. We have history. A family. He’ll never understand that the way I do. He’ll always be on the outside looking in. Can you really see a future with him, knowing that I’m always going to be there? Always going to be a part of your life?”

You bit your lip, your mind spinning. He was right about one thing. Art would always be there. He wasn’t someone you could just forget, or leave in the past. And that had always been the hardest part of trying to move on.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” you whispered.

“And I don’t want to hurt you,” Art said softly, stepping even closer, his voice low and persuasive. “I just want us to be a family. A real family, without anyone else getting in the way.”

His hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm, and for a moment, you felt yourself falter. You thought of your daughter, of the life you had once imagined with Art, the life that had slipped through your fingers. Could you really just let that go? Could you really keep pretending that Patrick was enough when this was the man you had once built your world around?

“We can do this,” Art murmured, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “We can make this work, I know we can. Just give me another chance. Give us another chance.”

Your heart ached, torn between the weight of your past and the uncertainty of your future. And in that moment, standing in the stillness of the night with Art’s hand on your cheek, you didn’t know what to believe anymore.

[em1989ts]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏

chapter one. series masterlist. main masterlist.

five hargreeves x reader

word count: 1.6k

book summary: five hargreeves gets lost in time and your father forces you to go after him, leaving you to get lost in a completely different kind of solitude. after decades, you meet at the hands of the handler, except you're not exactly happy to work with him after what he did. the two of you agree to put your differences aside until you save the world. how hard could that be?

author's note: this is the beginning of a story that i've been planning since august so now i'm finally writing about it! i'm more focused on uploading this for wattpad but i decided why not post it here as well. i plan on writing s1-s4 (hopefully i have the motivation) so please let me know your thoughts !! reblogs and comments much appreciated :)

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

 Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got eight of them. 

~~~~~

“Don’t do it.” 

Five Hargreeves stood in front of the mirror in his room, his back to the door. The bell for breakfast was going to ring soon, but his mind wasn’t on a healthy start to the day. Minimal morning light entered his room through the edges of his curtains, his room remaining dark and motionless. He hadn’t noticed her pass by his room and turn around after catching a glimpse of his still figure in the corner of her eye. He hadn’t noticed her retrace her few steps and lean against the doorframe. He only noticed her presence once she announced it with solemn discouragement. 

He had been contemplating for days. He knew he was ready for this. He told himself so. He couldn’t back down at this point, he had already set his mind to it. Backing down would look weak. He wasn’t weak. 

His expression was stoic as he stared at himself for a moment longer, then turned to face her at the door. 

Without her domino mask, her face remained impassive. She rarely displayed any emotion, except for the fact that her face at rest made her seem constantly angered. But as of right now, she showed no frown, no furrowed brow, not even a blink. 

They stood a few feet apart. Once he looked directly in her eyes he could see a sliver of something. He knew she didn’t want him to leave. He just thought she underestimated him, that she didn’t believe in him, that she was envious of him. But that look in her eye told him a different story. Something he’d never seen in her before, not that he ever paid too close of attention to her or anything like that. They had never gotten along. They never cared or looked out for each other, so why was she pulling this now?

She watched him intensely, almost staring through his soul, trying to reach though him to his conscious and convince him not to make the biggest mistake of his life. 

But they wouldn’t know it. Not then, anyway. 

The breakfast bell rang and the doors of the other children opened up swiftly as they filed through the hallway in a swift, orderly fashion to get to their assigned places in efficient time. 

Neither Five nor Eight moved. They stayed staring into each other's eyes trying to communicate something through their unintelligible irises. They’d played this game before. Intense staring contests in hopes of the other backing down, awarding a feeling of eminence to the victor until the next time they decided to face head to head. 

This time, her eyes weren’t challenging. They were pleading, vulnerable to his attacks in the hopes he’ll stand down and listen to her for once. His eyes were defensive. He trusted himself and that was all he needed. His stature grew colder until he walked over to her position against the doorframe. 

She shuddered as he got closer. He seemed so lost yet so certain. She could feel it in the darkness that morning that something was about to go horribly wrong. She heard it through the shadows. 

Five would never understand this interaction. Not until years later. He never knew how she could have known, especially since she hadn’t been trusted with his plans for time travel. 

He stopped in front of her less stoic, more distraught face. He looked through his angered eyes into hers. 

“Watch me.” 

~

She never went down to breakfast that day. Knowing exactly what happened after he rushed to his place behind his chair. They sat and ate, he stood up, played his cards, failed, and ran off like the scared child he was. 

She watched him though the velvet curtains that obscured her normally pitch black room from the outside world. The light was let in, casting her face in a warm haze as she watched him run off. Free. Arrogant. Until a flash of blue light took him away. 

Letting go of the curtain, the sunlight vanished from her room, leaving her in her usual darkness, feeling her usual repugnance. She knew she would be reprimanded by her father for not going downstairs. She didn’t want to face him, not while knowing her own failure.  

She could have tried harder. She could have done more. That’s what everyone would tell her. 

She could have cared more. But she didn’t. Not at this moment in time anyway. 

She could’ve made him fall into his own shadow, leaving him no possibility of escape. 

But she didn’t. 

There was no arguing with Five. His thirteen year old self was difficult. He was so prideful that there was no chance he would ever back down from whatever he set his mind to. He would never admit being wrong or at fault.

He would come to regret this. 

He would regret the fact that he never listened to his father. How he never listened to Eight as she tried to stop him, to help him for once in her life. 

Once Reginald Hargreeves realized that Number Five had lost himself in time, he did what he could to retrieve the child. He also decided to double this rescue mission as a punishment for Number Eight. 

~ 

“You will not leave here until you find Number Five and return him to this time.” 

They were in the basement. The cold, dark basement that gave each of the Hargreeves children nightmares for weeks after they’d been escorted here. Their powers tested in ways that messed with their minds and fears. 

If Number Eight was afraid, she didn’t show it. She was however, without a doubt. 

She hadn’t been down here for years. She had learned to manage her fear of the dark at a very young age. With her power, she had to, otherwise she’d be utterly useless. 

She had to control the voices echoing in the void. The whispering, screaming, threatening, comforting voices that escaped the darkness to haunt the one child who could hear them. 

Reginald opened the chamber door, made to withstand the powers of the children, and instructed Eight to enter. 

She did as she was told, but as Reginald recited his desired outcome, concern overcame her. 

As Pogo shut the door and secured it, the room was completely dark. Of course she was used to the darkness, she thrived in it, but she couldn’t handle being trapped in here forever.

During her trainings, she had been told to practice traveling through the void. The void was the term her father used to describe complete darkness, or a very large shadow. She could enter the void by disappearing into her own shadow, someone else's shadow, or shadows made by objects. 

Her father had made her practice entering one shadow, traveling through the void, and exiting through another. It had worked, but navigating in pure darkness is not as easy as it may seem. 

Once her father and Pogo had returned upstairs, the basement light was shut off. With no one around to witness. She screamed. She yelled and cried on the floor until she became tired and dull. While she lay on the cold cement ground, she figured to herself that Reginald Hargreeves couldn’t possibly leave her here. To starve. To freeze. But he did. Not intentionally. 

Reginald Hargreeves did intend to let her out within 48 hours, however when he returned to the basement with Pogo holding out a small flashlight against the window of the chamber, they noticed it was completely empty. Number Eight had vanished. Lost in darkness. Lost in space. Lost.

Just like Number Five. 

She wouldn’t be found for many years.

Her body dormant in the conditions of the void, her mind wide awake. 

Light never met her eyes. Not a drop of sunlight met her skin for decades. 

She knew she shouldn’t be alive. She hadn’t eaten, yet she could feel her skin wrinkle with time. 

Without any idea how long she had been trapped, she just assumed she was dead. 

Until she heard clicking amongst the voices. 

It was often that a shadow nearby had some sort of ambience behind it. Whether it was the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, with its smells and sounds of Paris, or the shadow behind a TV, letting her hear the yells and cheers of football fans during a big game. 

She would often linger around those noises, to feel a sense of familiarity for a normal life she’d been imagining in her head, the darkness as the perfect blank canvas. Never getting too close in fears of everything becoming too real. 

Until these clicking noises grew closer. 

The clicking of high heels against a smooth floor.

Suddenly illuminated through the flick of a zippo, a tall, well dressed woman came into view. Number Eight jumped and hid behind her hands, not expecting to be blinded by such a small flame. As she brought her hands in front of her face, she saw just how wrinkled they were, how much she had aged. 

“I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Eight.” 

☂︎

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐 series masterlist.

authors note: thank you so much for reading! i appreciate it sm :) if you want to be on the taglist for upcoming chapters please let me know ! also if you have any ideas for upcoming chapters or other fics my inbox is open i'd love to hear your ideas!

read 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏 on wattpad!

[pascaloverx]

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

It's been two months since a handsome stranger started showing up at your bakery to buy an espresso and two loaves of bread. Nothing more, nothing less. You've never told anyone, but since his first order, you've been practicing new types of bread dough for him to try. He always comes in sweaty, and you believe it's from a run, but he's always so kind and always leaves a good tip. Unfortunately, every time you try to start a conversation with him, he disappears.

"Hello, is anyone there?" You hear a male voice coming from the entrance of the bakery. It must be the handsome stranger whose name remains a mystery. In his cup of coffee, at least, he asks for the name Barnes to be written on his order.

"Just a second…" You speak loudly so the person at the bakery entrance can hear. Unfortunately, you just put the bread in the oven, which means you're probably covered in flour. Not to mention, the Barnes guy has never shown up this early.

"Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know if you have your famous bread and coffee. I can't start my day without stopping by here." Finally, you make it to the entrance of the bakery. It's him, Barnes with captivating blue eyes and a charming smile.

"It's no bother at all, but unfortunately, I just put the bread in the oven. But I can prepare the coffee right now. I also made a cake. If you'd like, I can offer you a slice. And if you're willing, you can come back at the end of the day; I'll be trying a new fennel bread recipe that you might enjoy." You say, smiling gently at Barnes, who looks at the watch on his wrist. He's dressed formally today, which makes him look even more handsome.

"I will accept your offer to come at the end of the day. If you want to separate the piece of cake; I will gladly take it with me." He appears to be in a hurry as he heads towards the exit. You watch him, shaking your head positively.

"I'll separate them for you." You say as you watch him walk away. For the rest of the day, no matter if you were baking cookies or making a cupcake, you thought that at the end of your day; you would see Barnes.

You're distracted tidying up your counter, saving some leftovers to take home, maybe offer to your neighbors. In reality, you could already be at home but decided to do some extra cleaning at the bakery before leaving. Not because you want to cleaning everything for the thousandth time but because you want to give what you set aside to Barnes. The movement in the bakery was good, its oldest customers continue to return and bring more customers. While you're distracted, something makes a huge noise at the entrance.

"What the hell is going on here?" You shout towards the door. Next thing you know, Barnes is hurt. His clothes are torn, it looks like he was attacked. And he's standing inside your bakery, bleeding on the floor.

"You told me to come at the end of your shift. I'm sorry I'm late, I was finishing up some unfinished business." Barnes says as he tries to stay upright. You approach him, helping him sit down.

"I know we don't know each other very well, but you look terrible." You say, touching his forehead lightly, which seems to be quite bruised.

"I'm bleeding on the floor of your bakery, you can call me horrible all you want." He says smiling but then groaning in pain.

"Shouldn't we call the police or something? Maybe at least go to the hospital…" you try to suggest without success. Barnes shakes his head negatively while groaning a few curses. You worry about what kind of trouble he must be in to not want to do any of that, but suddenly it occurs to you that you have a first aid kit in the bakery's pantry.

"I know I'm asking too much, but at the moment I can't answer any questions or accept any suggestions. I only came here because I feel you like me enough to help me." Barnes speaks with some difficulty as you help him with his injuries. You're still processing the fact that he thinks you like him. While you're applying some bandages, you end up having to tear his shirt to clean the blood.

"Just tell me one thing, are we safe now?" You ask nervously as you put some bandages on Barnes. He looks at you, then holds your hand. You didn't even notice but your hand is shaking.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be safe." Barnes speaks in a seductive way but you try not to think of him that way. Even while he's injured, shirtless on the floor of your bakery. However, before you can answer anything, you hear a gunshot and suddenly, a bullet passes through the entrance to your bakery.

"I know the timing is terrible but are you sure?" You ask as you see the pained expression on Barnes' face turn into one of anger.

"Stay here, I'll sort this out and be right back." Barnes says holding your face lightly, which is the closest thing to intimacy you've had in a while but you could only think that he was intruding towards death. You watch him grab one of his best knives and head towards the front door. You are crouched down in an area a little further away from the entrance to your bakery. You hear grunts, some swearing. The guy who shot threatening Barnes, and Barnes not backing down. You hear the sound of another gunshot and then what sounds like someone using the knife. You grab the fire extinguisher on your wall and prepare to hit whoever walks through the door.And as soon as you make a move to hit the person, you feel the person holding you back.

"That would have been more useful with the bandit in front of your bakery. But it's good to know that you know how to defend yourself." Barnes says smiling pretentiously. After you dropped the fire extinguisher on the floor, Barnes fell into your arms. And all you can think is that you couldn't imagine ending your night with him in your arms like this.

[meazalykov]

renewal

sydney lohmann x bayern!reader

summary: the latest transfer window was scary for you and your girlfriend

you’re one of the best, if not the best, attacking midfielders for bayern munich. one of the highest valued players in the women's bundesliga, for a player that isn’t german herself. your skills and loyalty for the badge have made you a valuable asset to bayern, but your contract is set to expire in 2024. 

the online rumor, started thanks to soccerdonna, has been buzzing with speculation about your next move—at first some said that you're transferring to lyon in france, while others think you might return to your home in the united states to play for the portland thorns. 

the rumors have caused quite a stir, especially for your girlfriend, sydney, a midfielder who plays for bayern.

after you started at bayern in 2020, sydney and you were friends. not long after, she confessed her feelings for you and you guys have managed to maintain a strong relationship throughout the next three years, making it a point to spend a lot of time together.

 

however, the recent speculation about your future has made sydney anxious. 

little do you know, sydney is going to renew her contract for bayern. you kind of suspected it, sydney is in love with bayern and would never leave anytime soon. 

little did sydney know, bayern is pleased with your performance and eager to extend your contract until 2026, a detail you're not yet allowed to disclose publicly.

during an interview after the game between bayern and freiburg, where you managed to score a goal and two assists, you were asked about your recent rumors. you should’ve known that the elephant in the room needed to be addressed. 

"y/n, there's been a lot of speculation about your future in the last few weeks. can you shed any light on the rumors linking you to lyon or a return to the NWSL with the portland thorns?"

you smile politely, moving your cross your arms as you think about the words you have to say next, 

"well, you know how rumors can be," you begin, trying to keep your tone light. "right now, i’m fully focused on bayern and finishing the season strong with my team. it's been a great journey here, i’m very very happy with this club and i'm committed to giving my best."

the blonde interviewer nods, pressing on gently. "but with your contract expiring in 2024, fans are eager to know if you've made any decisions about your future. can you give us any hints?"

you chuckle softly, as your fingers tangle onto the red zipper on your puffer jacket. the media rooms were a little cold considering you’d played a full 90 minute match. 

"i understand the curiosity, but at this point, there's nothing official to announce. bayern has been a fantastic place for me, and i'm really happy here. when the time comes for an announcement, you'll all be the first to know.”

there were rumors about sydney going to the wsl or the nwsl. you knew you shouldn’t believe them, but transfer windows can shock anyone. sydney was outspoken about “not being afraid to live in new places” too. 

during the days where you guys have the day off to spend with each other— you can feel the tension between you both grow as the rumors persist. 

sitting on the couch in your munich apartment, sydney stared at you intensely as she stood by the couch. she watched your fingers flick on the remote, while your eyes watched the TV flickering in the background with a rerun of your favorite netflix show. you know she's staring at you, but she had a tendency to do that a lot. 

"baby, i need to ask you something," she says, her voice hesitant. you look up at her with worried eyes as she moved to sit beside you on the couch, only giving an inch of space. that was too far for you, though. 

your eyebrows knitted together in curiosity, your look gave her the silent permission to continue with her question. 

"are you really moving back to the states to play with portland?"

you fully turn your body to her, ignoring the tv, and you see the worry in her eyes. before moving to munich in 2020, you played in the nwsl in your home country. starting off with the washington spirit straight out of high school before playing in the 2019 world cup, winning it all at just 17. 

eventually, you moved to orlando pride before wanting to have a full change. you knew that a different league would be the best for your growth.

many european clubs were on your doorstep, wanting to send you offers due to how natural you were with the ball. you chose bayern and have been loyal to the club ever since. 

your heart aches knowing how much the uncertainty has been affecting sydney. one thing you couldn’t stand was seeing your happy and silly girl so upset. 

at this point, you’ve already signed the renewal with bayern, it wouldn’t hurt telling your girlfriend about the news.  

"no, sweet pea," you say gently, taking her hands in yours. "bayern is happy with me and i’m happy with bayern so i'm renewing my contract with bayern until 2026. i’m sorry for not telling you before, i just couldn't say anything until it actually happened."

sydney's eyes widen in surprise before a wave of relief washes over her face. she wraps her strong arms around your shoulders as you, naturally, place your hand on her right knee. 

"you're staying?" she whispers, almost in disbelief. the rumors scared her recently and it was clear. the german girl loves you so much.

you nod, smiling softly. "yes, i'm staying. i love it here in germany, and i love being with you. I can’t leave, this is my home."

tears of happiness well up in sydney's eyes as she pulls you into a tighter embrace, moving your body so you’re sitting on her lap instead. she holds your lower waist as you bury your head into her neck. "you don’t understand how relieved i am," she says, her voice muffled against your shoulder. "i've been so worried."

you hold her tightly, grateful that feeling the tension between you both is gone. "i know, syd. it's been hard not being able to tell you."

syd pulls your body back slightly, looking up into your eyes as her hands move to sit on your thighs. "well, i have something to tell you too," she says, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“what is it?” you say with a surprised look on your face. you hoped it was good news, but due to the look on syd’s face, you can tell it was.

"the rumors about me staying at bayern are true. i wanted to surprise you later but the rumors are starting to get a little crazier."

your heart skips a beat. "you’re staying?" you ask your lover, hardly daring to believe it. especially since you thought sydney wanted a change away from her home. 

she nods, her smile widening. "yes, i wanted to stay close to you and stay in germany. i wouldn't stand the thought of us being apart for so long."

you both laugh, the joy of the moment overwhelming. "this is amazing," you say, kissing her forehead softly.

“i love you.” 

“Ich liebe dich mehr.”

<3

[v3nusxsky]

I wanted to make a request of like dom!lesso and shysubby!reader where the reader is a quiet new librarian of the merging schools and they get off to an angsty start where lesso HATES the reader and the reader just wants to be friends and then maybe some smut happens and then lesso gets soft for the reader and they live happily ever after✨✨

Unexpected lover 18+

*Authors note ~ finally getting through my assignments which is freeing up some writing time to get through some requests I’m so sorry it’s taken me ages to get to it school literally is killing me*

Trigger warnings~ dom lesso, subby r, mommy kink, praise kink, thigh riding, sorta enemies to lovers?, degrading kink, begging, oral sex, slight pet play/humiliation kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^

You joined the schools staff team when the schools still held the divide. Good vs evil. And you happened to be the one stuck in the middle. As a librarian to both schools you had your fair share of encounters with people from each side. Sure the ever side was very sweet and friendly but there was something about the Never side that made your heart break, clearly they were misunderstood but trying to conform to why society makes them. Even with the two deans you could see the parallel between them. Despite her behaviour toward you, you were drawn to the dean of evil like a moth to light. She was just so intense and intelligent that your heart always beat an extra beat in her presence.

To Leonora, you were an annoyance. Her students raved about your calming aura and how respectful you were to everyone. How good. And that was a hindrance to say the least. Here she was doing her job, trying to mold the next villains into being successful and yet you seemed to fight against her every step by showing them kindness and respect. It was frustrating beyond belief. At least that’s what she told herself, it most definitely wasn’t that she felt drawn to you, completely and utterly ignorant to her own desires to be near you. Evil doesn’t love. Evil doesn’t like. Evil is chaos and mess, everything you weren’t. So she most definitely wasn’t drawn to something so… good. Pure. Fire would freeze over in hell before she admitted the truth that ate away at her heart.

You hoped with the schools merger that Leonora would come round. Everyone else in the schools had, the library was now filled with a gentle buzz, students mixing with ease, the staff seemed to be managing well too. All expect her. At first you blamed yourself. Perhaps you were too shy, too needy, or even weak to her. But then you’d remind yourself that everyone else likes you. Everyone else speaks to you in the corridor as they pass. Everyone but her. You are by no means a scary person, people often think you’re easily manipulated due to your timid nature, so it can’t be that. Leonora doesn’t strike you as the type of woman to be scared of little old you. All you wished for was the same cordial friendship with her that you had with others. Instead you seemed to be more of an annoyance to her, like she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you. Breathe the same air.

Every story to ever be told has had a meaning, a message to the reader. You loved discovering what the words on the page were trying to tell you. Most story’s you adore have the clear message that the line between love and hate, like and lust and fear and desire can be thin. Sometimes so thin it’s hardly visible. You like to believe this is true, you see it daily as someone who observes the coming and going’s of people frequently visiting the library. Each day there’s something new, a development in their own story, something you thrive on noticing. Little did you know, your story was about to get a new chapter, with a curve ball no one would have expected to occur.

The new chapter began like any other, working to tidy all the books and close the library for the night, ensuring every book was returned to its rightful spot while students began to filter out and back to their dorms from the late night study they were engaged in. Yet the presence of one dean in your usually calm atmosphere was throwing you off. She seemed to be engrossed in her book that she’d swiped from the curses and death traps section. She sat ever so regally by the heater in the corner of the room. It was hard not to notice the striking woman in your space, yet if she noticed you she didn’t seem interested as she flicked through the pages of her book.

By the time you’d sorted all the books in the library you’d made many hints of the time, the fact the library was closing and even going as far to stand behind the counter nervously drumming your fingers against the wood. You wished to have the confidence to ask the woman to leave, yet you couldn’t find it in your heart to approach her. Not when this was the closest to co existing in each other’s presence you’d got since you took the job. You’d be lying if you said she wasn’t slightly intimidating, it’s unsurprising that she was the one to make the move.

Meanwhile Lesso was getting irritated with the constant sound echoing round the room, interrupting her book. Your nervous energy was practically suffocating the woman. It was obvious you were waiting for her to leave, subtly wasn’t a strong suit of yours she decided. That’s when something snapped within her, this cat and mouse game needed to end. Evil doesn’t need to ask, evil gets one way or an other and you aren’t any different if you want her to leave her you’re gonna have to earn it.

“Got something to say dove?” Her words flowed like honey, the nickname coming from thin air but feeling so right it just flowed, “why don’t you just say it?” Leonora was talking to you. You. The shock clouded your mind causing her to chuckle, “cat got your tongue huh?”

“I- you- uh” you stuttered dumbly trying to not make a fool of yourself with trembling limbs you asked her to leave so you could close up. “If you want me to leave then you should come over here and make me” her challenge was set, yet she couldn’t be bothered to even spare you a look. If she did she would’ve seen the crimson blush covering your cheeks as you internally fought with yourself. Could you just walk to her and get her to leave? Would it be that easy?

Minutes later you slowly rounded the desk, hesitantly making your way to the woman only to be stilled by a tut of displeasure. “Did I say you could walk to me? No. Crawl dove, be a pretty pet and put a show on for me.” Crawl? Seriously? “I - what?” You mumbled causing the dean of evil to lazily click her fingers at you as if you were nothing more than a disobedient puppy.

You aren’t sure what bothers you more, that you sank onto your hands and knees or that arousal rushed through your body at the treatment. Scanning the empty library you started to crawl forward, eyes downcast as you obeyed her wish. The carpet scraped against your bare knees, the skirt of your dress dragging on the floor and getting stuck as you moved. By the time you reached the older woman, humiliated and aroused she had discarded her book to appreciate the view. The way your chest heaved and you kept your eyes to the ground drove her wild as you sat back on your knees. So pliant for her. So willing. Desperately trying to please her. She’d have some fun with a pretty pet like you. “What do you say we have some fun, show me what a good girl you can be.”

You swear you’ve had this dream before. The kind you wake in the middle of night questioning your subconscious brain. It’s only natural that you immediately nod along to her request. With a simple demand of “earn it then” and a snap of her fingers her pussy was on display for your curious eyes to view. With a simple gesture to get on with it you dove straight in. You always imagined she would like the tougher side of sex, she wouldn’t want the teasing build up and you were right. Her hand came to your hair, gripping the locks so tight it was almost painful. Almost. The sinful moan you let free was immediately swallowed by her greedy core cause the vibrations to hit her clit deliciously.

“Mm my what a good dove you are. Just like that baby” she grunted as her hips started to buck into your mouth, covering your lower face with her slick. “God what a good slut I have here. Wouldn’t have waited this long to claim you if I knew you were such a whore.” If you weren’t glued to her core you may have protested at the language she was using. Yet again, you weren’t in the position to argue as you ate her out with abandon. You could tell you were doing a good job when her thighs tensed and her moans seemed to be louder than before. The closer she got to climax the more praise she threw at you causing you to press your thighs together. Desperate for some friction. Relief. And that sight, you being nothing more than a needy whore on your knees, eating her cunt like it’s the last meal on death row was what threw her over the edge. Inner walls clenching as you lapped up your reward with ease.

You only pulled away from her warm core because she made you. Tugging you up to your feet by your hair. You stumbled slightly as the blood flow returned to your lower legs causing her to easily settle you on her lap. Your clothed pussy settled over her good thigh as her hand settled under your chin to guide you into a passionate kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. Unsurprisingly, as soon as the kiss started she was in control. The way she would nip at your lip to allow the metallic taste to dance between your tongues caused you to whine into her mouth. The level of need this woman awoke in you should be criminal. You couldn’t be more glad that she gave in and crossed the line between love and hate.

Instinctively, you began to slowly drag your clothed pussy along her toned thigh, seeking friction as she kissed you. A kiss so good you saw you forgot your own name. Her hand came to grip your hip, guiding your almost pathetic grinding. Pulling away from the kiss she couldn’t help but tease you. “A desperate thing you are hmm? So needy you are gonna use my thigh like a bitch in heat? Poor girl. Have I neglected this needy cunt?” Her words combined with the friction she provided was dizzying. So dizzying in fact, you mewled “mommy please” before your brain could even catch up.

“Oh it’s like that is it dove?” Her signature smirk graced her lips before she trailed them to your lips, nipping and sucking the silky smooth skin there. “I- oh, mm please mommy. Oh God” you whined chasing the pleasure she was providing too much to even care about the name choice. “Gonna cum for mommy darling? Gonna cum all over my thigh? Such a pretty slut for me. Go on, cum” she punctuated the last word by sinking her teeth into the junction between your neck and shoulder causing you to hurtle over that edge, riding out every wave of pleasure that hit you.

Leonora couldn’t help but be star struck by the post orgasmic bliss that over took you, ragged breaths as you fought to calm your heart rate, shaking legs that tried to grip her thigh in order to keep the sensation alive. Big doe like eyes peering at her through hooded lashes. Stunning. A sight that should belong to the heavens alone. And in this moment where you collapsed into her, her arms wound around you too quickly to be thought of, she knew that you would be hers. Evil or not, she couldn’t bear to let anyone see you like this. A pretty little thing begging for mommy to help her. Perhaps good and evil could co exist. After all you fit so perfectly in her arms it would be sinful to separate you from her. Maybe just maybe, evil did get good, to love and to cherish and to enjoy.

Word count~ 2032

[yuuainnie]

A weeb and nerd Duel with idia shroud

I saw sailor moon pointers hidden in a pen in TikTok. And thought of another mini charades || TW: there's mention of backstory and they are sassing each other out. But they are fine with it cause they ( idia , Yuu and Ortho) are very close.

In ignihyde backyard:

Ortho: today we shall have rematch between Big Brother Idia Shroud and the prefect Yuu. As last time, the rules are:

1. only under 100 modal budget weapons.

2. most be anime or fictional weapon inspired or theme weapon

3. cannot use magic*stare at idia*

4. cannot bite people*stare at grim and You* and have fun.

Yuu, holding a super sailor moon pointer stick: prepare to eat dirt.

Idia with a double blue light saber: the one who will be the L shall be you, yuuchi.

Ortho: ready, set and fight!!

Yuu quickly ordered grim to use charm as a cat to idia who almost get fooled by it but quickly deflect the sailor pointy staff of Yuu.

Idia, laughing: you think an overuse move will be useful! Heh! Get double L for being Lame and loser.

Yuu: I don't even lose to you dumb ass!!

The two proceed to smack their weeb weapons against one another while throwing insult to one another.

Idia, attacks: running away? You wish blots would run away from you but too bad you get magnet for trouble, protagonist ~ ahahaha.

Yuu, deflect the attack: at least I don't get L in backstory cause I'm some oh so genius. Let's hack the system, shit my bro get bamboozled.

Idia, gasp: YOU DID NOT JUST BROUGHT THE TRAUMATIC PAST IN THIS!!

Yuu: WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT? reset the world Mr idia shroud the 6th overblot oh king of the underworld ~? Ah bad guy gets defeated by hero, which is me!

The fight become intense as it's verbally dragging the others down with past and punching the Achilles heels—trauma and pain.

Idia: at least my credits is not negativity declined and famililess in this world!!

Yuu, gasp: YOU BASTARD YOU DID NOT BRING UP IM BROKE IN THIS!

idia: WHAT YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT? BUY MY WEAPON AT 80% OFF FROM THRIFT STORE PROTAGONIST?

Yuu: DAMN YOU!!

Yuu: AT LEAST IM NOT ONE LESS BROTHER CAUSE IM A DUMMY SO ILL JUST MAKE ONE GENIUS. can't believe some king of the underworld you are. CANT EVEN DO NECROMANCY. LAME!!!

Idia, intense gasp: YOU ASK FOR IT!! YOUR SO GG AS I PURPLE FLICKER YOUR ASS!! Also lame for only have one thing to go against me. GET SOMETHING NEW, SUCH A UNORIGINAL!!

Yuu: go on! Do it, I can flicker you with help of My friends too! What about you? Ah that's right your a FRIENDLESS BITCH!!

Idia: SHUT UP!!

-main while in the sideline

Ortho:...

Grim: is that supposed to be normal?

Ortho, sighing: no.

Grim: I felt I can't understand what's going on. What's next? Are they going to eat each other up?

Sometime Later.

Grim:

Ortho:

Grim: wow they really went and start kissing.

*stares at Yuu and idia who's fighting each other by who's first to tap out from kissing each other. It's very intense.

Ortho: I guess the fight ended with a draw today too. I have to put verbally abusing each other as not allowed in the rematch next week.