Marinette was what one would consider way too relaxed for someone who was on the way to a crime scene. It had been the first one in three weeks and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Since a certain night on the roof, the mysterious murder stopped appearing. Every person in the department was on the edge about something big happening, something unexpected. And it seemed like it came. When they got the call, the person o the other side said they can’t just explain it through the phone. They had to come and see by themselves. Tikki was gritting her teeth, obviously not happy with the development. Marinette bit her lip. It couldn’t have been Adrien. He texted her telling her he was working on a special project just half an hour ago.
Once they reached their destination, the technical crew along with Marinette and Tikki got out of the car and headed towards the side alley. The crowd was already restricted on that sidewalk and the road had been blocked save for the police force. When they reached the murder scene, Marinette felt her heart beginning to beat frantically. On the side of the alley, across the wall nine people were hanging, their bodies impaled on the building in such a way that it formed a huge heart.
So that was the special project.
Tikki was barking orders left and right, but Marinette couldn’t take her eyes off the wall. Anger aside, she couldn’t help, but feel a little flattered. Hell knows how much time he spent putting this plan together to create this thing when it wasn’t even dark outside. She will still kick his ass for this, though, no matter how flattering it was.
Marinette was raging. She slammed the door of Adrien’s flat behind her as she walked in the living room. He was just taking off his mask when she stormed in. He glanced at her surprised before a smile took over his features. It looked rather odd when he only had his cat lenses without the mask.
“Princess! So good to see – ouch.” he settled his palm over his cheek and looked at her surprised. “What did I do to deserve that slap?”
Marinette was fuming. “Nine people at once? Are you insane?”
He shrugged. “No, I wouldn’t say so.”
Marinette glared at him, before her eyes changed to something he couldn’t quite place. A mix of sadness and exasperation. “Why are you doing all this?”
“Oh, buginette. You are still focusing too much on me and not enough on them in this whole.thing.” he leaned over, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to wash all the scum off me. There is sole meunière in the fridge if you are hungry.”
Marinette watched him disappear behind the bathroom’s door with a frown on her face.
Checking the background of the victim was a downright nightmare. She got special permission from the département de l'information to use their database. Adrien’s words were haunting her. What in the world was about those people that she wasn’t focusing on? The research of the deceased hadn’t gone too far, that was true. They had no close relationship or family, their job situation was nothing out of normal, neighbors confirmed there was nothing that could give off the vibe of a conflict with anybody. After she realized it is Adrien doing all this, she thought it made sense. She knew all he had been through with losing both his parents and she was sure he would never pull someone else through that pain. So what was about these people that made him kill them. Adrien never showed any tendencies to criminal, let alone homicidal behavior. She was missing a key piece here and he had given her a vital clue. There was something about these people. Marinette kept scrolling through the file. Until she found something that made bile rise in her throat. Opening a new tab, she accessed the file of another victim. Her eyes bugged out. She kept going through the different files, feeling both sick, but also satisfied enough she finally got a pattern.
Marinette leaned back in her chair with a sigh. Pulling out the phone that wasn’t tracked by the services, she dialed Adrien’s number.
“Ma choupinette!” Adrien’s cheery voice exclaimed through the speaker. “How are you?”
“It’s not your place to serve them justice,” Marinette stated, getting directly into the topic. “There are authorized institutions to do that.”
“You finally caught up! How sweet of you, ma minette, but do answer a question of mine. Did they do their oh so called job?”
Marinette bit her lip. They didn’t. All of the cases were swept under the rug and the identity of the assailants was kept anonymous or simply declared unknown to the public, even though they were very much known by the people in charge of the investigations. Still, it didn’t justify murder. “There are international organizations that could have taken care of it then.”
“And who would have brought it to them when they are kept secret by the people who were supposed to solve them, huh?” Marinette’s shoulder fell. He was right. “Admit it, princess. They would have never been brought to justice. Someone had to do something.”
Marinette inhaled. He had a point, but… “Over ten people, in two months. Do you know what will happen if you get caught with murdering all these people?”
She didn’t need to be there with him to know he was smirking smugly. “Good thing that I won’t be caught. Also, buginette, please, let’s not refer to those things as people.”
Correct. She shivered in disgust just thinking about the reports. Yet, there was still something out of place. “How did you get all the information from? How do you know how to find these people?”
“Oh. A wise old turtle is kind enough to guide me when it comes to that.”
Marinette frowned, before sighing, not sure what to do or say anymore. “Why all the love declarations? And your oh so called gifts.”
Adrien chuckled. “Oh, my declarations of love were as honest as they could be. And well, didn’t you know cats bring corpses as gifts for their loved ones?”
“You are not a cat.” Marinette stated, somewhere between amused and worried.
“I’m your cat. And… wait, hold on.” Marinette tapped her fingers against the desk as the noises of Adrien speaking with someone else echoed through the speaker. “I have to go buginette. We have a midnight photoshoot for a new perfume. I’m sure we can continue our little chat another time. See you tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah. See you.”
“Go home and sleep, mon cœur. Je t'aime.”
“Je t'aime aussi.” she said before closing the call.
Marinette fell on her mattress with a heavy sigh. Her whole body was screaming from how much she had stayed awake. It was well past three when she arrived back from the department. Both her heart and head felt heavy and her moral compass was spinning like crazy.
There was only one thing she was sure of. It can’t continue like this.
Paris was terrified. People who would never be targeted by Chat Noir were too scared to go out of the house. It was a constant state of panic that took much out of the life of the city. But at the same time, Adrien had a very good point. If no one was bringing these people to justice through the legal means, then someone had to do something. It didn’t surprise her at all Adrien would like to bring justice, hell knows she wanted too. But killing something just doesn’t come without a toll on your mental state. Adrien needed help.
Marinette covered her face with her palms, trying to concentrate on something on anything that could solve this whole mess that was going on. She wasn’t sure how much she stayed like that, one thousand different scenarios and outcomes running through her mind. Blinking a couple of times, she took her phone off the night desk. After a quick search, Marinette nodded, knowing what she had to do.
Yet, she couldn’t help, but open her phone gallery, checking or a specific picture. She took in the contents, beaming smiles, and happiness. Who would have guessed they will end up in this situation? Marinette run her fingers over the screen of her phone. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes.
This is the first time I have written something Harry Styles so please let me know if this was any good lol. I hope you guys like it!
Remember the way you made me feel
Such young love but something in me knew that it was real
Your favorite memory of you and Harry was lying on his couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table and your head laying in his lap with your favorite blanket of his over your legs. You looked up and saw the first couple buttons undone and his tie loosely hanging. You went over in your pajama shorts and oversized t-shirt when Harry called you at 11 p.m. saying, “Y/N, you would not believe the disaster of a date I’ve been on. Please come over and relieve me.”
He talked about how every conversation he initiated turned into the girl finding a way to talk about herself. How she kept wanting to take pictures with him but he kept insisting no (purely because of good judgement from how this date was going. He didn’t want to wake up the next day to messy rumors and headlines). How she kept suggesting ideas about where he should take her for their next dates. By the end of the night he was surprised that she didn’t talk about planning their wedding. And just about multiple other things that he assumed were red flags.
You laughed at his facial expressions as he recalled tonight’s events.
“Harry I don’t get why you keep on going on these blind dates with girls that your friends set you up with. Maybe you should just take a break from dates from now on,” you say, pulling out your phone feeling it vibrate underneath the blanket.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before placing that arm back down across your body.
“Maybe you’re right,” he pauses, “but maybe you’re wrong.”
Max barely felt the vibration of her phone in her shaking hands, and it took a few seconds for her to register that it had buzzed at all. The dressing room was empty save her and Chloe, and she wondered through an anxiety-clouded mind if she should bother checking it or just leave it for after the show. What if it was an emergency? What if they had to cancel the show? What would Lost Hope think of losing their headliners on the last night?
request: the8 badboy!AU, highschool!AU ; insp. by the 6th prompt here!
a/n: *sweats* after 6 months of not writing a scenario, i am back!!! honestly i got a bit carried away so it’s a bit lengthier than usual, so i hope this makes up for it since this is my first minghao fic :’)
The sound of hurried footsteps and hushed voices outside your bedroom window is what pulls you away from your hour-long studying session. It’s five minutes past midnight and you’re reviewing your notes in preparation for your chemistry test in the morning, but now that your attention is elsewhere, you realize that further cramming will do you no good. You sigh and shut your notebook, stretching your arms behind your back as you get up to see who (or what) could be making such a ruckus outside your house this late.
When you peer outside your window, you barely make out the outlines of three hooded figures running straight for your backyard door. Your eyes widen as you watch them shove it open and run deeper in until they’re out of sight. You freeze in place as panic washes over you because oh my god they’re going to break in and murder me why do I have to be alone tonight out of all nights?
You grab your phone andrush into the master’s bedroom where a window gives the perfect view of your backyard. Creeping closer to the window and peaking through the blinds, you see that the three of them are standing in the middle of your backyard, two of their backs turned to you. The other figure is facing you, but you can’t quite make out their face.
“Did we lose him?”
“I don’t know. But it’s best to hide here until we’re sure.”
You sigh in relief. So their intention isn’t to break in.
“Minghao? What do you think?”
Minghao? You squint your eyes as the figure takes off his hood. Even in the darkness, his fiery red hair is visible and your jaw goes slack. Minghao’s in several of your classes, though he hardly shows up for it to feel that way.
“Yeah, let’s just wait here.” He cards a hand through his hair and looks around as if sensing your gaze.
You’re about to step back from the window just in case he sees you, but something in the corner of your eye makes you stop mid-way. Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, you can see that your garden—or what was your garden—has been trampled on. You’ve been tending to that garden for months now, and anger builds within you when you see some of your peonies limp in the soil.
You spin on your heel and down the stairs, clutching your phone in your fist. You make your way over to the living room where the backyard door is, flicking the backyard light on in the process.
You yank the door open and step out, pointing an accusatory finger at the three boys, “Hey!”
The three of them look at you in alarm, but before they can say anything you continue, “Look, I was going to let you guys off for trespassing after you leave and all, but how are you going to repay me for my garden? I’ve been working on it for months! And you,” you point to Minghao, “there’s a chemistry test tomorrow! Did you even know that? Actually, do any of you know how expensive it is to maintain a garden like this? Why my garden? You guys are so careless!”
By now you’re heaving from your mini-rant as the three boys stare at you in shock. You cross your arms. “Well?”
Much to your dismay, one of them has the audacity to laugh. “Come on,” he nudges the one standing next to him. “Let’s get out of here.” He shoves his fists in the pocket of his hoodie and brushes past you like it’s nothing. “Nice pajamas, by the way.”
You blink a few times before looking down at your current attire: a Hello Kitty pajama set you got for Christmas two years ago with fuzzy slide slippers to match. Feeling your face warm, you glare as Offender #2 joins Offender #1′s side.
“Let’s go, Minghao. You have a test to study for, remember?” he snickers.
And then they’re off, leaving the way they entered, not even sparing you a glance. Minghao watches as you sulk over to your garden. You can feel his eyes on you as you kneel down to pick up a crushed peony. “Just go,” you murmur, standing up to walk past him. “Jerks…”
“Hey,” he calls out right before you close the door behind you. “I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“How?” you frown. Even though Minghao’s always had the reputation as the school’s “bad boy”, you never paid attention to such labels. But now that you have a reason to dislike him, you’re starting to believe the rumors. Maybe he truly is just a delinquent who causes needless trouble. “I’ve been growing this garden for mo—”
“For months. Yeah, yeah. You’ve said that already.”
Your glare deepens.
“I’ll find a way. But for now, I have to go.” He pulls his hood over his head and for the first time, looks you in the eye. “It’s ______, right?”
“Huh?” you ask, surprised that he knows your name. He looks at you expectantly and you clear your throat. “I mean, yeah. How’d you know?”
He smirks. “It’s pretty hard not to know the name of teacher’s pet, don’t you think?”
_ _ _
Unsurprisingly, Minghao misses the chemistry test the next day and doesn’t show up to class for the days that follow. You twirl your pencil between your fingers, chin resting on the palm of your other hand. “He’ll make it up to me my ass,” you mutter, remembering the amount of peonies that died at the hands (well, feet, technically) of those three impudent boys.
When class ends, you’re out the door, ready to go home and take a nice nap. With both of your earbuds in, you scroll through the music in your phone until you find a song you like and press play. You walk for five minutes until you feel a tap on your shoulder.
When you turn around, Minghao’s staring down at you. This time, his hair’s dyed a whitish grey that contrasts against his black hoodie.
You pull out your left earbud. “What do you want?”
“Here,” he holds out a mini succulent plant. “We’re even now, right?”
Frowning, you take the succulent from him and eye it. “This is your idea of making it up to me?” You narrow your eyes at him as he shrugs. The succulent is admittedly cute, and as you inspect it more, you notice black ink written on the bottom of the vase. Curious, you tilt it backwards until the words becomes readable.
Seokmin Lee :^)
Pausing, you look up at Minghao, to the succulent, and back at him. “Wait,” you say slowly, realization hitting you. “You stole this?”
You shove it back in his hands and glare, angry at yourself for actually thinking he could be true to his word.
“I got it for you,” he says simply, not understanding why you’re so upset. “You don’t like it?”
You look at him like he’s crazy, but his unwavering stare makes you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Forget it,” you say. “Just put it back where you took it from.” You shove your earbud back in your ear and continue your walk home.
When you open your backpack to do homework later that day, you find the succulent sitting inside the space between your notebooks.
_ _ _
Minghao, for reasons unknown, has become increasingly adamant on compensating you for the garden he and his friends ruined. Last week, he tried giving you a rose before you pointed out that it was clearly plucked from the school’s garden. You figure that it’s a pride thing that drives him to do these things; otherwise, a rebel like him and a straight-A student like you would never have crossed paths again following the incident last month.
Today, it’s a pack of sunflower seeds.
“You know these are for eating, not for growing, right?” you deadpan, looking up at him. “I can see you’re really trying. But what’s done is done, so you can stop feeling indebted to me or whatever.”
Minghao opens his mouth to speak, but you continue before he can, voice much softer this time. “You’re nicer than your other friends. I appreciate it.”
“Nice?” he frowns. “I’m not nice.”
“Then why do you keep doing this?” You purse your lips, clutching the pack of sunflower seeds embarrassedly. “People think you like me. Someone saw you give me the rose last week. You know how fast rumors spread in this school.”
“Let them think what they want,” he counters, expression unreadable. You’ve never felt so vulnerable under someone’s gaze. “Plus, some rumors turn out to be true.”
You feel a blush creep up your neck. “What do you mean?”
Minghao shrugs, feigning cluelessness. “Dunno.”
The words come out before you know it: “Do you like me?” You bite your lip immediately after the words slip out, mentally cursing yourself for asking such a forward and ridiculuous question.
Minghao, however, seems unfazed. “Wanna date?”
You definitely weren’t expecting that. At a loss for words, you can only pray that your face isn’t as red as it feels. Minghao looks amused as your mouth opens and closes as you struggle for a response.
“I don’t date,” you say lamely. “I’m focusing on my studying.”
Minghao quirks a brow. “So no?”
You feel as if your heart rate’s increased tenfold and your mind’s gone blank, and all you can see is Minghao watching you grapple with words like you suddenly forgot how to speak and why in the world isn’t there a class on Dealing With A Minghao 101?
You and Minghao are polar opposites. You study diligently and get good grades, never skip class, and are well-liked among teachers. Minghao’s known for his cold indifference and causing all sorts of mischief outside of school. You’re not very popular, either, so you can’t find any plausible reason as to why Minghao would want to date you.
“I… I don’t know,” you manage to choke out after what feels like an eternity. “I barely even know you.”
“Isn’t that what dating’s for?” For someone so relaxed, he’s strangely persistent.
“I mean,” you start. “We could maybe… study for the upcoming chemistry test together?”
Minghao scoffs and you look away sheepishly.
“What was I expecting,” he mutters. “Fine.”
_ _ _
You’ve never felt so many eyes on you before. It’s a rare sight, so you can’t be too mad at the staring students. Had it not been for your suggestion, Minghao would likely never be seen in the library, let alone with you of all people. There are papers splayed over your shared table, but so far you’re the only doing the actual studying. He’s been staring at you for, you glance at the clock hanging above a shelf of books, the past thirty minutes.
“Minghao,” you sigh, looking up from your notebook. “What’s the difference between molarity and molality?”
“Your nose twitches when you study,” he says plainly.
You give him a pointed look but before you can retort, a smirking figure grabs your attention.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The pretentious Jihoon has his fists in his khaki slacks and his chin up like usual. “______ sharing her smarts with someone? Who would’ve known,” he muses. “Tutoring will only slow you down. We’ll see who lands the highest score this time.“
“Actually, tutoring shows you’ve mastered the material well enough to teach it,” you roll your eyes. “And I’m not even tutoring him. We’re studying together.”
Jihoon scoffs, grumbling a “whatever” before stalking off.
“Who is that punk?” Minghao asks, eyes still on his retreating figure.
You shake your head, brushing your hair out of your face. “I guess you could call him my rival. He’s been like that since we were in the fifth grade.”
“The competitiveness or the rich kid look?”
“Both,” you reply sadly.
Minghao adjusts his baseball cap so that his bangs flatten above his eyes. “Want me to beat him up?”
Your eyes widen as you look up at him. You can’t decide what’s scarier, his threat or the fact that he’s actually serious. “No, don’t do that,” you frantic. “I don’t want you beating anyone up.”
Minghao doesn’t look satisfied with your answer but doesn’t say anything. The next ten minutes are spent in silence, you reading over your notes and doing practice problems while Minghao idly scrolls through his phone. He gets up, sliding his phone into the pocket of his bomber jacket, and tells you that he’s going to the bathroom. You nod without looking up, letting him know you heard him.
"Finally, he left,” you hear someone a few tables away breathe out in relief the moment he’s out of sight. “I was going to leave myself if he didn’t.”
“Dude, same.” His friend shudders. “He’s so scary.”
You try to pay them no mind as you train your attention on your studying, but as they continue their Minghao-slandering you realize that you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over.
“What was he doing here, anyways? He should just go back to his shady business with his gang or something.”
“Tell me about it. And why was ______ with him? He probably threatened her into it.”
You slam your pen on the table. All eyes darting to you, you turn to the two gossipers. “Excuse me, but I’m trying to study,” you force a smile. “So if you could please—”
And what they ask next is all it takes for you to snap.
“______, is everything okay? You’re not feeling ill, are you?”
Feeling the anger coursing through your veins, you stand from your seat, palms laying flat on the table. “What do you two know about Minghao? Have you ever even talked to him?” You don’t care if you’re drawing more attention to yourself as you press on, “You have no right to judge him. He has feelings too, you know. What makes you think that I’d have to be feeling sick to want to be with him? You guys are so judgmental! You guys are such…” you remember what Minghao said earlier, “…punks! You guys are nothing but—”
“______, that’s enough.”
Alarmed, you turn around to see Minghao standing there with his usual expressionless face. You turn back around consciously and shut your eyes tightly; just how much did he hear? Would he be proud that you stood up for him? Angry that you caused a scene?
Minghao tugs on your wrist, “Come on.”
Wordlessly, you pack up your things, head laying low in shame though you ironically don’t regret a thing. Swinging your backpack over your shoulder, you exit the library after Minghao.
“Um,” you cough, trying to catch up to him, “how much did you hear?”
“All of it,” he says casually, looking down at you. “You like me, don’t you?”
You stop walking and blink up at him. Minghao peers at you over his shoulder and you swear you see stars.
You suck in a breath and, feeling brave, say, “Well, we’re dating, aren’t we?” You rejoin his side and feel proud when you see him looking shocked this time.
But the surprise is quickly replaced by a smirk as he throws his arm over your shoulder.
_ _ _
“Geez, who knew gardening could be this tiring,” Junhui, previously known to you as Offender #1, sighs, wiping away a drop of sweat from his brow.
“Don’t forget expensive,” you remind him, using your hand as a shield from the sun.
“Can we take a break?” Soonyoung (Offender #2) whines, fanning himself. “It’s hot!” He tosses the trowel on the soil and let’s out a groan.
“No stopping, punks,” Minghao scowls, and you can hear Junhui mumble “he’s turned soft” under his breath.
“Hey,” you elbow Minghao, “you should be helping them. You did this too, remember?”
“I tried making it up to you, didn’t I?” he challenges.
You end up shoving Minghao into the soil, but thankfully this time the peonies are unharmed.
“Have you been feeling alright lately?” Luke’s wife asked as she handed you a glass of water. Everyone was over at the Hemmings’ house for dinner and while you’d been feeling a little off all day you’d agreed, it had been awhile since you’d caught up with everyone. “Tired,” You replied, giving her a small smile. “A little nauseous but not too bad.”
Calum’s best friend - who had quickly become good friends with you all after he’d introduced her - cocked one of her eyebrows, her lips pulling down into a slight frown. “Have you been sick y/n?” Luke’s wife’s eyes went wide as she suddenly realized you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone past family yet. You waved away her concern and lent forwards, keeping an eye on where Ashton was standing with the other boys. “I’m pregnant.”
The squeal that left her lips caught the attention of all the boys, Ashton by your side in an instant, concern written all over his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” “Oh I just can’t believe you’re having a baby!” Calum’s best friend gushed, pulling you into a gentle hug. “Baby?” Michael asked from where he was standing. “Is y/n pregnant?” “Yes,” Ashton replied happily, wrapping one of his arms around you so he could rest a hand on your stomach. “Baby Irwin is already growing nice and strong.” “Congrats man,” Calum said, clapping Ashton on the shoulder. “That’s awesome!”
Luke held up his beer, giving both you and Ashton a big smile. “Here’s to baby Irwin, the newest member of Five Seconds of Summer!”
Luke pulled his phone out of his back pocket for what felt like the hundredth time in the last couple of minutes, his screen still void of any messages from you. He knew that it was early morning at home and that logically you probably wouldn’t even be awake yet, but he couldn’t help but worry. He was about to be on a plane for three hours and he needed to know you were okay before he boarded.
Tapping his foot anxiously on the ground he looked up to where Michael was playing a game on his phone, earphones hanging around his neck. “I’m just going to try y/n again,” He announced, standing up. “Didn’t you just ring her five minutes ago?” Michael asked, not bothering to look away from his screen. “She didn’t answer.” “Dude, she’s probably sleeping,” Calum piped up. “You do know what time it is there don’t you?” “Yeah I just - I just need to talk to her okay.”
Summary: For love, you foolishly lied to yourself. For money, you married a stranger.
You turn in your bed, finally reaching the brink of consciousness but yesterday’s drinking comes back in full force when your head begins pumping with a hangover. “Ughh..” You mumble something incoherent, mouth completely dry and in dire need of an aspirin.
Fluttering an eye open, you squint them immediately - the sunlight too much for your ghastly state. Slowly sitting up, you begin trying to recollect all the events of yesterday, everything one huge watercolour painting blur.
You begin with your clearest memory first….leaving work and getting dressed to go out.
Some days, Kenma really, really loves Kuro. Kuro is amazing in a lot of ways, and there are several occasions Kenma can remember that he was– and still is –incredibly grateful to be with him.
Now is not one of those times.
“You’ll get it back when you greet the first years,” Kuro says, holding Kenma’s PSP above his head, just out of reach.
Kenma stands on his toes, jumping up a little in a futile attempt to get it back. When Kuro just lifts it higher in response, he scowls. “I really, really, hate this.”
“I love you too,” Kuro says without missing a beat, pocketing the console with a grin. “But you’re their senpai now and that means you have a responsibility to them, just like me!”
“What a crappy senpai,” Kenma says quietly, trying not to let his voice shake. It’s a yellow day, edging closer and closer to orange the more he thinks about having to talk in front of so many people.
Kuro’s face softens anyway, like he knows exactly how Kenma is feeling. He probably does, but he lets the act go on; he’s always known Kenma’s limits and stays well within them without coddling him. “I’ll have you know I’m a fantastic senpai. You just don’t count.”
And, well, Kenma can’t really argue with that. He and Kuro have never let the single year between them affect their friendship, and besides, Kenma has always hated power dynamics based on age anyway. Kuroo Tetsurou may seem like the smooth, talented powerhouse blocker of Nekoma, but Kenma knows better; he’s a massive nerd who drools in his sleep and cries at romantic comedies.
Which makes it even more annoying that he’s pulling rank for the first (but definitely not the last, Kenma knows better) time this year, trying to make Kenma step out of his comfort zone and interact with the new kids. Objectively, it’s important. But right now, it feels like a prison sentence.
Said kids are lined up on the other side of the court awkwardly, waiting for the second and third years. Well, waiting for Kenma.
Because that’s not anxiety-inducing.
“I’ll tell you what,” Kuro says, still gently pushing Kenma’s limits– because he has to, because next year he won’t have Kuro to act as a buffer, “I’ll take you out to eat after practice if you play nice with the babies.”
Kenma glares at him. Kuro knows what’s going to happen if he forces Kenma to talk in front of these people, teammates or not, but Kenma knows that as captain, he can’t show favoritism.
“I’ll even get a pie,” Kuro bargains.
Kenma raises an eyebrow. He knows that Kuro knows he’ll have to do better than that after barely skirting death (that is, plucking Kenma’s PSP directly out of his hands in the middle of a boss battle) and trying to rope him into a public introduction.
Kuro sighs, giving in. “Ah, the neutral face of displeasure. Alright, you win. I’ll get you pie and a week’s worth of mochi.”
For a moment, Kenma considers the terms and he can pretend it’s almost okay. “Two weeks. And if you ever touch my PSP again I’m ignoring you for a month.”
“Deal.” The grin returns in full force and Kuro drags him over to the three first years and the rest of the team.
Kenma stands there awkwardly as Kuro introduces himself. “Afternoon, everyone! You’ve already met Kai and Yaku, and the rest of the team by now. I’m Kuroo Testurou, you’re benighted leader and captain, feel free to call me Kuroo-senpai or Supreme Leader Kuroo. I look forward to working with you all to get to nationals!”
He knows he’s next, and his heart is pounding faster and faster with every passing second. He knows Kuro, knows that he wouldn’t ask Kenma to talk to this many people if he didn’t absolutely know he could do it, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
The first years all chorus various versions of “we look forward to working with you” at once. The giant silver one is particularly excitable, and Kenma resolves to stay far, far away from him.
“And this tiny kitten is the brain and beating heart of our team!” Kuro says, patting Kenma on the head. “Say hi, Kenma.”
Kenma blinks slowly, giving himself a moment to mentally prepare. “I’m Kozume Kenma. Second year. Setter.”
That should be enough, he hopes, shoving his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts and looking at the floor. His hair falls into his face, obscuring everyone from view. He can hear his pulse, and not in a good way. He knows the first years are staring at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he can’t–
Kuro’s hand slides from the top of Kenma’s head to his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. Breathe, he’s saying. You did good. I’ll handle this.
“Haiba and Inuoka, you’ll be working pretty closely with Kenma since he’s the starting setter,” Kuro says, not removing his hand from Kenma’s shoulder. “Shibayama, you two won’t be doing much training together. Kenma isn’t great with receives the way you are.”
“I have a question!” Kenma can’t place the voice without looking up, but the energy and volume lead him to think it’s the silver giant. “What do you mean, brain?”
Kenma fidgets, wringing his hands restlessly in lieu of not having his console. He’s never loved the nickname of “brain,” no matter how accurate it might be. It’s a lot of pressure.
Luckily, Kuro knows this too. “You’ll see eventually, Haiba.”
After that, practice runs about the same as it normally does. The only difference this time is that Kuro lets Kenma sit out the first twenty minutes with his PSP, handing the console to him with a small but genuine (for once) smile and a whispered “I’m proud of you.”
He sits with Kenma for the first few minutes to make sure he’s okay, then joins in because for all the hell Kenma gives him, he’s actually a great captain.
After practice, Kenma is only a little less shaky. That doesn’t mean, though, that he really thinks he’s able to talk to anyone yet. Of course, the universe decides not to give him a break. He’s waiting for Kuro to finish changing when the silver giant runs up to him.
“Kozume-san! Would you toss to me? We didn’t get a chance to practice together today!”
Haiba Lev is tall. That’s the first thing Kenma noticed from the beginning, and it’s the first thing he notices now. He’s massive and energetic and happy and so, so loud.
Kenma resists the urge to flinch away because Haiba is just being friendly and he knows that. So instead he shakes his head and lets his hair fall into his eyes. He can’t bring himself to talk.
Luckily, Taketora seems to notice Kenma’s discomfort and comes to his rescue. “Lev! Come help me clean up the court!”
“Of course!” Haiba turns toward him before seeming to remember himself. “Maybe next time, Kozume-san?”
He sounds so hopeful that Kenma can’t help but nod, still staring at the floor. How could he say no when the guy sounds like Kenma tossing to him is a dream come true?
Lev cheers– so loud be quiet be quiet be quiet–and goes over to help Taketora pick up the gym.
“He’s a good kid, and he has a lot of potential. A hell of a spiker too.”
At the unexpected sound of Kuro’s voice, Kenma jumps about a foot in the air. Kuro holds up his hands in a silent apology.
“I think you’ll like him a lot once you get used to him,” he says. “Don’t you?”
It takes a moment for Kenma to think it over, but he eventually nods silently. Loud though Haiba may be, he’s well-meaning. Kenma hopes they’ll be able to coexist. Maybe even become friends.
Kuro shoulders his bag and looks at Kenma carefully before holding out his hand. “How are you doing?”
Kenma doesn’t move for a moment, then reaches out and taps Kuro’s hand three times. Orange.
Orange is worse than yellow, better than red. Orange means quiet, it means slow, it means touch but not too much. Kuro knows this, and he knows that it’s been a yellow day and Kenma knows he knows why it’s orange now.
“Do you still want to go to the cafe today?”
After a long moment, Kenma shakes his head. He wants to sleep somewhere that’s quiet and free of too-loud, too-happy silver giants that want Kenma to toss for him.
“Okay. Okay, let’s get you home.” Kuro holds out his hand, the sight a little blurry through the curtain of straw-colored hair obscuring Kenma’s vision.
He doesn’t have to look up when Kuro leads him like this, which is the reason they do it. They barely make it outside when the door opens again behind them and the giant rushes through toward the parking lot.
“Uncle Yuri!” he yells in excitement, and Kenma can’t hold back his flinch at the loud noise. Kuro squeezes his hand comfortingly.
Haiba rambles on about how amazing his first practice was, growing quieter and quieter as Kenma and Kuro keep walking. As they walk the familiar path back to Kuro’s house, because it’s closer, Kenma thinks that yeah, he’s really grateful to have Kuro.
Something different - Not a fan fiction but a story based around voltage.inc
Ever since our end of year exams had finished, I had gone back to doing what I love best - dating fictional characters. It had been so long since I checked the apps that I had completely missed all of the new stories out as a result of me turning off my notifications in case of distractions. For the first time in a while, I opened one of the apps and next thing I know I’ve downloaded a new app and compiled a list of the characters I wanted with the price. Coming to a hefty total, I dipped into my savings with enough to buy a set of iTunes gift vouchers. Unfortunately, there’s nowhere so close by that I can walk to get them so I decided to use this opportunity to have a day out with my friends. It was only me, Angelina and Lee that decided to go out since the others were busy but I was excited to spend the day with my two best friends.
After a little bit of shopping and wondering shops, playing a very dangerous game of ‘guess the price’ while shopping in River Island, I finally got to a shop where they sold gift vouchers. Ange knew a lot more about my virtual haven that Lee did but the first question she had to ask was,
“Does your boyfriend know about this?” That was a big, fat no.
“Are you insane? I still can’t believe I have a boyfriend given my past relationship experience. I sure as hell won’t bring this up and drive him off when he sees the folder of otome apps on my phone.” I’ve been particularly careful to hide my phone from Kyle in case he sees the apps, the screenshots, my tumblr, wattpad or even my notes section where I’m writing fan fiction. Ever since I asked him out and he said yes, I swore I would never let him find out about this for obvious reasons. Of course, Ange decided to be my friend and not tell him but also decided to be a biatch and use it against me. How often I’ve heard,
“Please could you buy me something when you get your lunch?”
“Go get it yourself.”
“Shall I tell Kyle that you spent £25 on an iTunes gift voucher for a dating sim?”
“… Would you like a brownie or a flapjack?”
“Brownie please!” She’ll chime with the sickliest of smiles. Even still, she will listen to my emotional outbursts or ask whether lovestruck have released a new lesbian yet. Her favourite so far is Aurora James.
Lee on the other hand barely knows anything about it. All that he knows is from disputes he’s settled between me and Ange when we show him characters and ask whether they are good looking or not. Genuinely. Most of the time they are.
I tried to be subtle when buying my vouchers along with a drink but Lee caught me at the till.
“Two vouchers? That’s a lot. Are they for someone’s birthday?”
“No, they’re just for me. I want to make purchases on my iPad.”
“What are you spending so much on?” This time Ange butts into the conversation.
“You know when we show you those guys and ask for your opinion? It’s for that.” He just looked at me like, 'WTF?’
“How much do you spend on those games?”
“Not much. It’s like £3.99 which is good when you think about how expensive other books are.”
“Still that’s a lot of money. If it were me I would have bought a new wardrobe or loads of makeup.”
“Well, that’s you. You know I don’t like makeup and I’ve got enough clothes so buying more just seems pointless to me. I’d rather save up all of my money and spend it whenever instead of splurging it as soon as I get it. You choose makeup and-” Just then, Ange cuts me off.
“-And you choose fictional characters.”
“Exactly!” Then comes the dreaded question.
“Does Kyle know about it?”
“What do you think?”
“Tell him. He has to know.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Why is everyone so persistent about me telling my boyfriend that I play romance sims?
“Cause it’s just SO cool that I’m sure he would fall deeper in love with me.” My voice drips with sarcasm.
“Just be honest. If he really loves you, he wouldn’t care.” I don’t think they realise how much I cherish my boyfriend that I don’t want to do anything to jeopardise our relationship. Kyle is one of the coolest guys I know. He’s really popular for being so easy to talk to. We’ve been friends for a while although I was never as close to him as other people are. I convinced him to come to one of my shows - Rock of Ages - and he loved it so much saying how much fun it must be to be a part of our group. Knowing how he would be accepted immediately since he’s an amazing dancer, I convinced him to join. Of course he was accepted and we started spending more time together until I finally grew a pair and told him how I felt. I’ve grown up on the belief that you don’t ask for something, you don’t get so I thought at least they would know about my feelings and there might have been a possibility that they would say yes. Honestly, I was expecting a no which usually happened followed by them making fun of me; just shows they were the wrong people to catch feelings for. I had a good feeling that Kyle wouldn’t tease me and that he would let me down gently. Turns out he thought I was sweet and wanted to try going out. He thought if you reject love, you’ll probably never find it. Turns out we’re both philosophical. I didn’t want to lose him. He’s WAY out of my league. Just imagine a pro dancer, amazing actor, smart, friendly, sports beast going out with an otaku introvert who spends their free time playing otome games. Yeah… enough said.
Once I bought my vouchers, we had Greggs pasties for lunch and went to our secret hang out on this building roof with a car park that no one ever goes. Getting home after six, I started making my purchases.
Our group decided to go out again and I managed to buy and read all of the stories I wanted to. Ange is usually more interested and asks what I spent my money on which results in me babbling as if I was on five energy drinks.
“Well, I bought all of Toma season one from irresistible, Rikiya’s season 3 from school affairs, all of the My Mr Jealousy stories from scandal along with Chiaki’s season 3 from our two bedroom. My heart can’t take it. Chiaki got jealous because this photographer proposed to the MC but Chiaki has really low self esteem because of his childhood. Toma is a cheeky bugger but I absolutely love him. They gave each other nicknames like neophyte and Todd because he acts like a toddler. I feel that he’s the most realistic character because they show his passion for his work instead of just the MC-”
“You on about those games again?” Lee interrupts.
“Yeah. They’re soooo good!”
“I’m gonna tell Kyle you play them.”
“You know what, Lee, I know you won’t because you’re all introverts. Who’s going to tell him when none of you have had a proper conversation with him? That’s what I thought. You won’t tell him.” I should have thought about that ages ago when I told Ange. She’s especially shy when it comes to talking to new people. I remember when we first met, she was quiet until she found out I watched black butler and our friendship took off. There’s no way they will tell Kyle.
A few days later, there was another story I wanted to read so I was doing so in the living room while my mum popped out to get some shopping. While I was smiling at my phone in my dream world, I was interrupted by a knock on my window. The last person I expected to see was there - Kyle! Usually he calls if he wants to come over but this time, he’s just come and he looks a little fidgety. Locking my phone, I put it down and answer the door. Kyle just immediately starts talking.
“Sorry, Babe. I know I call usually but Lee just texted me saying you were cheating on me with someone called Todd. I trust you, it’s just, I never talk to Lee so to hear that from him, I freaked out a little. I trust you, really, but whose Todd?” Lee! You didn’t!
“No no no no no! You don’t have to worry about Todd.” Geez, that came out wrong. “What I mean is he isn’t what you think.”
“Can I see your phone? It would just make me feel better if I see your messages and it’s just a friendship.” Now I’ve made him doubt me… It’s about time I’m honest and told him, even if he doesn’t like me afterwards. I take his hand and lead him into the living room. Picking up my phone, I go into the app and give it to Kyle.
“This is Todd. I’m not cheating on you; it’s just a game.” I point to Toma and select a random chapter as I start tapping the screen. I can’t even look him in the eye, I’m so embarrassed. This is harder than I thought. Kyle just keeps tapping and reading while his expression remains unreadable. For the first time in what feels like hours which is only minutes, he makes an affirming sound and speaks.
“Hm. So that’s it. That’s alright then.” Jesus, I didn’t even know I was holding my breath until I let it go.
“I started playing them about three years ago so before we were going out I want to specify. I just carried on playing since I kind of invested so much time on them.”
“Them? How many are there?” I press the home button which takes him to the folder full of them. Some with particularly embarrassing pictures.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Kyle, but for obvious reasons I couldn’t.”
“Why not? It’s cute. I didn’t know you were into this.” Did… did he just… what? My face feels ridiculously warm. I bet it’s completely red right now.
“You don’t mind?”
“No. I’d prefer this than to find out you’re cheating on me.”
“You’re too amazing. I would never cheat on you.” One of the things I love about Kyle the most is when he’s cool and collected, if you give him a compliment he starts grinning like a child while aww-ing with thank yous. His smile makes me weak. It’s like it’s my kryptonite.
Giving my phone back to me, I put it in my pocket and Kyle treads forward a little to wrap his arms around me. Despite going out for a few months, we’re still a little shy doing stuff like this. I didn’t think I would find a guy at my age who wouldn’t be like other guys our age, who just love the attention in a relationship. It really seems like he loves me personally. I would have never guessed that he would also accept my hobbies as a part of me. Especially one with other guys in my life, even if they are all fictional.
Think about someone you don’t like. Think about them really hard while listening to this song. Tap your heels three times. Hope they are walking home with a cake. Hope they trip on a curb. Hope they skin their knees and get a face full of sweetness that would never compare to yours. Find someone new. Go dancing. Eat Tacos. Count stars. Buy a cake, but
Summary: Yorktown attacked. Enterprise Destroyed. Estimated 1000 Dead. The headlines roll in as JAG requests your aid in the wake of Krall’s attack on Yorktown. You know that Pavel Chekov was on the destroyed ship, but you’re not sure what you’re more afraid of: his potential death or having to see him again after all this time.
Word Count: 1,091
Author’s Note:For context, the italicized text is meant to be Russian and our main character speaks Russian. It’s been an age since I’ve posted for this story, please forgive me! I hope you like this installment. Feedback is welcome. If you would like to be added to the tag list for this story only, please let me know.
A/N: Here, have this dribble drabble I wrote while trying to combat writer’s block. Dedicated to @grapefruitwannabe for being a pal.
He’d wanted to protect her from the first
moment he met her.
He first saw her across the street from his
favorite park, sitting alone on the curb of the opposite sidewalk. She was bent
forward, hugging her knees to her chest, crying the only way a six-year-old
knew how: loudly and without restraint. Ink-black hair curtained either side of
her face, hiding her expression, but Inuyasha could see her shoulders shaking
with sobs, and could hear every gulp and sniff and shuddering inhale from where
Odd enough, this is because of a song. I was listening to Maroon 5: One More Night and inspiration came. I used to write a lot of song fics, and I might start back. Until then, here is something for you guys. I hope you like it.
She sat on the edge of the couch, finally watching Rain’s long awaited drama, and some crap was going down. What was happening? No, Rain don’t cry. She wiped at her tears, with her over sized sweater sleeve, and tried to suck up her tears.
A huge clap of thunder, made her jump and her TV flicker, as she sat in her Seoul apartment, alone on a Saturday night.
“No! Please, don’t do this!” She almost knocked over her bowl of Udon, as she tried to look out the window.
The rain had been coming down steadily, but now it kicked up. She was hoping those distant claps of thunder wouldn’t get closer, but she was too absorbed into her show to realize that they did.
The TV stuttered once more, and then every light went out.
“NO!” She screamed, throwing her head back on her sofa finally aware of the sound of the rain beating at her window. A thunder clap rattled the windows, and a bright flash of lightning brightened her living room.
She sighed, sitting up finishing off the broth of her Udon with a huff. Time for bed, she supposed and slowly walked to the kitchen. Her eyes adjusting to the darkness she rinsed her bowl, and placed it in the sink for later. She rummaged through a drawer and found a flashlight, sighing.
She clicked it on, thanking heaven the batteries seemed fresh. Walking to her back porch she moved the curtain, and stood on the patio. The humid night air would cause havoc on her thick curls if she stayed too long. She hadn’t even tied her hair up for the night. Grunting, she surveyed the street below,m and every light was out. Emergency lights on the corner of the streets illuminated the night. She squinted her eyes looking at the building across from her. Totally dark, she could see flashlights through people’s windows sweeping around.
Closing the patio door she turned back to the living room, and was about to go down the hall to bed, when a heavy knock sounded at the door. Once, then twice, she bit her lip, raising an eyebrow, walking to the door looking out the peeper.
The black, perfectly coiffed hair could be no one else. She sucked in a breath, feeling her heart race as he turned his sharp lined jaw to the peeper and knocked again.
“Jagi! Open the door, you have nowhere to go anyway.” She could hear him muffling a burp.
She said nothing, pressing her forehead to the door. Why was he here? Why did he have to come back? She pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling queasy just looking at his face. She could say she didn’t love him all she wanted, the heart was always going to ring true.
“Baby, I know you’re there.” He knocked again.
She had to answer, her neighbors would get pissed if he stayed out there and he would. She licked her lips, trying to get her face to look as unimpressed and passive as possible as she opened the door. The LED emergency lights lining the hall, shone on his perfect face as he smiled at her.
“I knew you were home, let me in.” Just like him to give her instructions and not ask, she rolled her eyes at her ex boyfriend, Choi Seunghyun also known as TOP.
“What are you doing here?” She didn’t let him in, holding the door still, as she glared at him.
He reached into the crack, thin fingers touching her chin. “Don’t be a brat, jagiya. I’m soaked, I have no cell phone, I’ve been drinking.”
“All the more reason, for you to walk home in the rain and sober up.” She opened the door more, looking down at the puddle he was making on the floor of the hallway.
He raised an eyebrow, groaning then pushed open the door and pushed her out of the way and into her home. She was half shocked he even did that, but knew that she could stop him…if she had wanted. Why didn’t she try harder?
He took off his coat, and shoes, then his socks. He balled them up and stood up to look at her. “Should I give these to you?”
“I’m not your maid or your girlfriend. Go to the sink and ring out your socks, leave your shoes there, and hang up your coat.” She reached behind him and locked the door, then walked toward the living room. Keenly aware, she wasn’t wearing pants, only underwear under this sweater.
“Why wouldn’t you let me in?” His deep voice behind her, as he made his way past her into the kitchen.
She sighed, sitting down on her sofa, head in her hands. “I told you, I didn’t want to see you again.”
Seunghyun laughed, a deep booming sound. She heard the water, hit the sink. “You said that what? Four months ago? We met up 2 months ago in Paris, at that fashion show.”
“Correction, Jiyong was with us.” She could feel the layer of ice around her heart, start to melt. The first ice cold drip landing in her stomach.
“He was. But he wasn’t in the bed with us that night. Or the next night.” She knew he was looking at her, she could feel his dark eyes burning on her.
Washing his hands in the sink, she heard him rip a paper towel, and then she heard his belt buckle.
“What are you doing?” Her head darted up in time to see him rounding the corner in nothing but his boxers.
“I was soaked, I had to get out of my clothes. I’m pretty sure you have some of mine here.” He took the flashlight from her hands, and started to walk past her and down the hall, to her room. Formally, their room.
“TOP.” She stood up, trying to pull down the sweater, that stopped just at her butt.” “TOP.” She called, just as he opened the door to her room.
He went directly to her closet, shining the light to see into a corner, with his name on a plastic bin. “What?”
“You can’t just come in here like you live here and start rummaging through things. Invading my privacy. Coming into my life.” She leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms, the long nails tapping on her arms.
He picked out a pair of cotton pants and a shirt. “I’m staying one night. Don’t start on me with that shit.”
She threw her hands into the air, just as the thunder rolled again. “Who said you could stay? I’m calling you a cab, and youre going home you aren’t staying here!”
He said nothing, getting dressed, and she turned towards her bed grabbing her cell phone.
“It’s dead.” He said, just as she realized that it was. “I called you three times. Straight to voicemail. That’s how I know.”
Gritting her teeth, she plugged in the phone. “When the power kicks back on, it will charge.”
“That’ll be in the morning. The power probably won’t come back on tonight.” He put his hands in the pockets of the cotton sleeping pants, staring at her.
“Wipe that smug ass grin off your face.” She sat down on her bed, head in her hands. She felt the ice on her heart crack.
She could hear him close the door, and the flashlight shined on her. She didn’t move as he sat next to her on the bed, the mattress dipping from his weight.
“I’ll sleep on the couch, since it bothers you so much. You don’t have to be so mean to me jagiya.” She felt his fingers brush at her hair, he was twisting a loose curl around his finger. “I still care about you, you care about me.”
She blinked her eyes, refusing to cry. This was bad. They were bad together and for each other. “We care about each other, we hurt each other. We are toxic, we are dysfunctional. We need to stop.”
She heard him groan. “Not this again. We are creative souls-”
“Shut up” She stood up, looking down at him. “Don’t start that bullshit with me again.”
He smiled at her, shrugging his shoulders. “It worked last time. So fine, we won’t get into that. How have you been? What have you been working on? Who have you been seeing?”
Her face was one of shock. Did he really expect her to jump back into a plain conversation with him? Like they had no connection? She leaned her head back, groaning loud. He laughed. Laughed at what she was doing. Then his arms were around her waist, he was pulling her down on the bed to sit on his lap.
She struggled to get up, but he held her tight. The feel of his body against hers, warm and solid. His wine scented breath near her neck, she turned her head away, the grip of his fingers in her sides.
“Let me go.” She said, breathing heavily from the struggle.
“After you calm down, and we can talk like two sane adults.” He had a point. She shouldn’t be putting up this much of a fight, it only confirmed to him what she already knew.
Once she settled, he set her down next to him taking her hand in his, he turned her hand palm side up and traced the lines on her hand. “I know you and Seungri went out a few times.”
She snatched her hand from his. “And?”
His eyes dark, he looked up at her. “One of my members? Really?”
She scoffed. “You’re so conceited as to think, I wanted to date Seungri to be close to you?” She laughed haughtily. “Don’t flatter yourself, TOP, he asked me out, we went on two dates and neither of us felt it. Leave Seungri alone, he’s sweet.”
“Stop calling me TOP.” He snatched her hand back, massaging her fingers. “Call me Seunghyun, you know that.”
“That’s reserved for friends.” She let him massage her hand, knowing he’d just take it back again. The first chunk of ice fell from her heart.
“And we are?” He pulled her closer by her wrist, his lips next to hers.
A memory flashed, of them kissing in Paris. He promised not to be the same person, he swore. She made a promise to be more vocal, that she would different. Things would be different. He made love to her on the veranda of the house they were staying in.
She turned her face as he tried to apply pressure, kissing her cheek instead. “We’re something else.”
Seunghyun smiled, she always did play hard to get. It just made him work harder. “I haven’t had anyone since you.”
“Don’t lie to me TOP, I’ve seen the women you’ve been pictured with.” She stood up, and she felt his fingers ghost down her thighs.
“They aren’t you. They are toys, simply for pleasure.” He was so sure of his statement.
“You’ve always had a few toys haven’t you?” She couldn’t stay in her room, walking out to get a drink from the kitchen.
He followed her, his footsteps heavy, she knew he was angry. “Don’t start shit with me >>>, you know you were my only one. I never cheated on you.”
“Never said you did, doesn’t mean I liked your groupies.” She grabbed a bottle of water, realizing no electricity meant no AC. It was getting warm.
TOP sighed. “I miss you.”
She drank the water, relishing the cool taste on her tongue. “Fuck you.” She put the cap on the water, taking it with her as she walked past him.
He grabbed her arm, pulling her in close to his side. “That can be arranged.”
He held her tight, moving his grip from her wrist to her elbow, then her arm. She shivered, an electric chill going down her spine, she felt her body loosen the ice gone now, her heart thumped in her chest. His other hand on her lower back, he moved the sweater his hand on the top edge of her panties. He sucked in a breath, moving so she was between his legs, his hand coasting up her back. His tan flesh against the brown of her skin, she could see it. She could see him like he was in Monaco, behind her, hand skating up her spine, as he pushed into her.
“We always do this. Aren’t you tired of this game between us?” She looked up at his eyes, her own brimming with wetness. “We never really change, we are who we are, and maybe it’s best we are alone.”
He kissed her, and she allowed it. She let his lips touch her, this was going to be harder now. “We are kindred souls. I’m always going to yearn for you.” His hand was on her stomach now, his thumb bumping over the hole of her belly button.
“I can’t do this again. You’re killing me.” She hung her head, thankful that her curls hid her face.
“You act like I haven’t died because of you.” His fingers dipping into her panties, he barely touched her and she was on fire. “You resurrect me, with you by my side, I’m a phoenix.”
“We aren’t good for each other, Seunghyun. You know that.” He turned her towards him, his hand cupping her sex, the other lifting her chin.
“We’re dysfunctional, I’ll admit it, but I keep coming back to you.” He kissed her, deep. She didn’t even try, her mouth opening for his tongue he wiped his tongue over hers, and then down her throat.
It was over. He took the bottle from her, cupping her ass in his hands, he picked her up. Slender legs around his waist he massaged the flesh of her ass, moving back to her room. Her arms clinging to him,m she moaned as she felt him stiffen in his pants, there it was. The feeling that this was different and everything was ok again. The feeling of him being different. Her being different. No more yelling, no more screaming, no more wandering eyes from him, no more lonely nights, and misunderstood feelings.
He laid her down on the bed, hands on her thighs, he pulled her panties down, breaking the kiss to press his fingers to the wetness of her core.
She groaned, lifting her hips, and he obeyed pressing his fingers inside of her. Just the first two, his thumb he pressed on her clit, and she tried to close her legs. Using his left hand he held them open, lifting her leg to place it on his shoulder. Kisses on her calf, she moaned.
Eyes open, she watched his face, she watched a single bead of sweat drip down his face on his nose and fall. Eyes closed, the memories of them in the back of a car windows fogged, him tossing his wine glass as he yelled at her for being too friendly with other artists.
His pants off, Seunghyun had his eyes open. Watching her body undulate under his touch, his fingers curled inside her touching the apex of her sweet spot. Eyes closed, he lowered his body over hers, memories of her naked in the moonlight as his hand dragged down her stomach, goosebumps in the trail his fingers left.
Eyes open, she watched him as he lined himself up with her core. He watched her nod her head yes, mouth open as he pressed himself into her. It hurt, but it was so good. Spreading, the feel of his shaft in her channel. He backed out, then slid in. Again and again.
The rain still beating on the windows, her hands behind her on the pillows, holding on for dear life. His face just above hers, he moaned, her back arching off the bed.
A flash of lightning illuminates the room, and the shapes of them are cast onto the walls. His hips moving in fluid motion, arms on either side of her body, she lifts her legs. One on his back, rubbing her calf on his ass, the other in the air, toes pointing the ceiling.
Seunghyun knows what that means, he increases his pace, the sloppy sound of her wetness in the room, her ragged breathing makes a symphony with his groans and moans. The constant slap, slap of skin meeting and he leans his head back the rhythm stutters, and he jerks inside of her just as she finally touches him. Her hands on his buttocks, pulling him in close as she finds her own release.
He’s smoking, as she lays on the rumpled sheets. The heavy scent of tobacco in the air she watches him, take a drag, the red cinders glowing. What should they say? What should they do? He knows she doesn’t feel the same, she knows he wants to stay, to try again. So, he says nothing, putting out the cigarette he lays down next to her, cuddling into her side. She closes her eyes, feeling his hand on her face.
Baron Corbin/OC: For
the song lyric ask thing I did earlier. Based off the lyric “Got no heart to
break, like it that way” from Ribcage by Andy Black. Fluffier than a Pomeranian,
idk man I just needed to make it fluffy. Requested by @moxtiel
Lena shivered in the crisp, cold December air, pulling her scarf up higher to seek warmth. “Now I really wish I had saved power” She muttered as she cast a downward glance at the humming machine strapped to her chest, a faint light blue glow emitting softly from it’s core. A tall, strapping young man with broad shoulders bumped into her with a bit too much force to be accidental. “Oi, watch it!” She snapped at the man’s retreating back. “People are just plain rude nowadays” She muttered to herself.
She continued her walk home, her shoes making a soft, satisfying crunching noise in the freshly fallen snow. She glanced behind her, a force of habit from years fearing she was going to stabbed in the back, her eyes caught sight of a similar looking man except skinnier and less fit looking. She frowned in suspicion as she turned her gaze back to the front. She slipped her phone out from the pocket of her bomber jacket, tapping at the screen with numb fingers as she pulled up the texting app.
Gonna be home soon.
She hit the bright blue SEND button, immediately three dots appearing as Widow replied. She was getting better at replying on time, Lena thought with a small smile.
She rolled her eyes at the bland reply before shoving the thin, rectangular device back into her warm pocket. She glanced over her shoulder again, now that young man had joined the skinnier one. “Uh, You two going somewhere or are you just following me?” She shouted at them, her gaze still on them.
She heard heavier footsteps come up behind her till she was flanked on all sides. “Excuse me, are you Ms.Oxton?” The taller one asked, his accent laced with traces of a German- No, Russian- accent.
Lena struggled to hide her suspicion, how did they know who she was? “Depends on who’s askin’” She replied casually as she placed her left hand in the pocket of her jacket.
The taller one looked at his skinnier companion and offered a simple, solemn nod that he received in turn from him. “Good, We have some bad news”
“Oh?” She tried to act innocent and clueless, “What happened?”
“Your fiance, Amelie, is in the ICU. We have been sent to drive you to the hospital.”
She practically snorted, “Oh? But I just texted her” She smirked smugly, holding up her phone in a gloved hand. She could see her apartment building in the distance, only a few more feet and she could escape these men. Suddenly she was yanked viciously by her shoulders and with a sharp, muffled cry due to a large hand clamping over her mouth, she was dragged squirming into an alleyway.
“HQ, we got her. We need extraction immediately. Target may have contacted someone” One barks into an earpiece, his eyes glinting in the orange glow of a dying light.
Lena bit the hand that was over her mouth and it drew back quickly, as if she was a snake. She lashed out with a leg before feeling a sharp prick in her neck, her limbs still thrashing as they soon turned heavier and heavier with each passing second. Her eyelids, feeling like rocks, drooped down slowly as she felt strong hands yank her off the ground.
Widowmaker sighed as she paced nervously in her living room, her eyes darting towards the phone that lay faceup on the oak coffee table. “She texted me over 20 minutes ago” She hissed under her breath, her eyes darting towards the door now as if expecting Lena to jump in giggling and laughing. “Something had to happened” Widow finally concluded after 30 more minutes of waiting.
With a final, urgent text demanding Lena to call her she left the apartment, the door clicking softly behind her as she briskly walked towards the elevator. As she was going down her phone buzzed in her hand. Her heart skipped a beat as her mind immediately thought it was Lena. It was. But a twist in her gut told her it was someone else.
Who is this?
Who else could it be, Widowmaker?
This isn’t Lena. Tell me who you are before I come find you myself.
Widowmaker, if I revealed who I was you might try and find me. Try to figure how I gained access to your little pet’s phone. She bites hard does she not?
Widow stiffened as she read the last text, “What do you mean she bites hard” She spat as she furiously typed, the heels of her shoes making a sharp click with every step on the tiled floor of the lobby.
She left a decent mark on my hand. Guess I must have smelled. Oh well. At least she smells more pleasant than me.
A cold feeling of dread overwhelmed Widow as she put the pieces together. She had feared that this day would come but she never wanted it to happen so soon.
There was a home, somewhere. A
broken one, shattered into thousands of pieces thousands of years ago. One that
hadn’t stood a chance against the traitors, one that he had been forced to
leave, to abandon, nothing but a fleeting kiss and the feeling of soft, child
hands clinging to his fingers and begging him not to go, not to leave.
There had been a home out there,
one with a husband and two glorious children who had waited for him every
night, who loved the princess like she was their own sister, who were loud and
giggly but patient and wise. A home with a man who made the most amazing food,
because goodness only knows that he himself was not the best cook.
His children had told him so on the
Torn apart, nonexistent, and even
if the planet had survived, it had been too long for any person on it to
survive as well. He stayed closed off for so long, stuck on that home, stuck on
the feeling of his children’s cuddles and his husband’s soft kisses in the
mornings. On the way the sun rose and colored the sky purple and yellow and
blue and how the river smelled of lavender in what the paladins called
He was stubborn for a long while
about home. Kept finding the small things he didn’t like instead of looking at
the bigger picture. The ears, the eyes, the lack of markings.
Then they stopped having
significance to him, and home was suddenly bigger.
“Beat you again, which means I win the bet. Pay up” you smiled, tossing the xbox controller next to you and extending your hand. Brandon groaned, handing you the $10 that he betted against you and slumped back in the couch. “Thank you” you smiled, rolling it up and putting it in your back pocket, stretching your legs on top of his lap and laying back. “Oh shit, what time is it?” Brandon asked, jumping up and running towards his phone that was charging on the kitchen island. “It’s about 5:30, why?” you asked, getting up and following him. “Nothing…I gotta go get ready,” he explained, unplugging his phone and moving to the door and grabbing his sneakers. “Ready for what? What about our movie?” you asked, intrigued. Brandon shook his head, “Nothing. I’ll make it up to you later okay?” he smiled, kissing your forehead and running out the door. You frowned, picking up the mess you two left on the coffee table, “What could Brandon be hiding?” you thought to yourself, throwing out the garbage. You shrugged and walked to your bedroom, changing into some comfy clothes before heading to the freezer. As usual, the freezer was always empty, never staying stocked due to you and Brandon’s late night munchies. You sighed, closing the freezer and grabbing your keys and purse off the counter and walked out the door, locking it behind you. As you walked down to your car, you realized that Brandon’s car was already gone, strange knowing that if he was going out somewhere, that he was never on time and took almost an hour to get ready. You shrugged it off, hopping in to your car, starting it and began driving down the road. You drove by countless supermarkets, food trucks and bars before you got to your favorite sushi restaurant, the one that you and Brandon go to almost every weekend. You parked, grabbing your wallet from your purse and walked inside. The restaurant was extremely busy so you opted for take out instead, grabbing a menu off the counter and looking through it, knowing what you were already going to order but was curious. You went to the counter, ordering a volcano roll and a small to-go bowl of miso soup, placing the menu back down on the counter and peering into the restaurant curiously. Your heart dropped, noticing Brandon sitting at the window, with another girl. She was pretty, her hair in wavy brunette curls that cascaded down her tan skin, she laughed with Brandon, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and reaching for his hand, squeezing it playfully. You turned away, hurt….but unsure why. Was it because he ditched you for her? Or the fact that it wasn’t you sitting across from him, flirting with him like she was. You turned back to the waiter, a to-go bag in his hand. You handed him the money to cover the food and ran out to your car, speeding away.
After eating all your food, a carton of ice cream and crying to three movies, you heard a small knock on the door. You got up, noticing the time…”Brandon it’s 10:30 at night….Go home,” you groaned through the door, not in the mood to look at him. “(Y/n) that’s never mattered before. Open the door” Brandon chuckled, tapping the door again. You opened it, leaning against the door with an unamused look on your face. “Whats wrong?” Brandon asked, moving forward to hug you. You backed away, “I don’t know…maybe it’s the fact that I know that my best friend ditched movie night with me to go out on a date with some gorgeous, more interesting girl that wasn’t me” you confessed, regretting the last part but standing your ground. Brandon frowned, “Listen…(Y/n),” Brandon tried to explain but was cut short by your door slamming shut. You huffed, feeling the heat of wet tears falling down your cheeks. “(y/n)…..Please let me explain. Jason set me up with her…She was gorgeous, yeah I admit. But she wasn’t you,” he mumbled through the door. You turned the door knob and opened the door slowly, looking up at Brandon, “What do you mean?” you asked. Brandon blushed, shoving his hands in his back pockets nervously, “For starters, she had no idea who Phil Collins was. And when she said that she liked Brent Rivera, I pretty much walked out,” he chuckled. You smiled, “Good for you,” you smiled, still leaning against the slightly opened door. “And to top it all off. I couldn’t help but think of you…It felt wrong, sitting at our usual table, eating volcano rolls, which she didn’t like may I add. I wanted it to be you,” he sighed, moving forward once more and gently pressing his lips against yours. You gasped, shocked that your best friend was kissing you and the fact that you were kissing him back. You gripped him closer, pulling him through the door way and kicking the door shut behind him. Brandon lifted you off the floor, sliding you onto the kitchen island and wrapping his arms around you. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest as you lifted off his shirt, tossing it to the ground while Brandon did the same with your hoodie, exposing the lace bandeau you wore underneath it. Brandon pulled away from your lips, smiling as he admired you, “You’re shaking,” he chuckled, holding your hands. You giggled, “Sorry…I don’t know….I guess I’ve wanted this for a while,” you stuttered. Brandon smiled, kissing you once more, “Me too” he whispered, pulling you off the counter and carrying you into the bedroom.
“I needed a drink of water after my shower but I forgot that I opened the blinds to my balcony and you just saw me walk into my kitchen naked.”
because this needed to be done
* * *
Percy kind of loved living alone. It gave him all sorts of freedom. He could get home from work and order take-out three nights in a row and no one would judge him. He could sit in his pyjamas all day and play video games on his day off without someone nagging at him to get off his lazy ass. He could walk around the apartment butt naked and be reassured that he was the only person with a key.
This was precisely his train of thought one Saturday when he stepped out of the shower and realised he had neglected to grab a towel before going into the bathroom. With a heavy sigh, he shook his hair out and opened the bathroom door. Steam billowed out with him, clinging to his skin as he crossed the room and dissipating in the cool air of his apartment.
Instead of heading straight for his bedroom, PErcy took a detour to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and turn the coffee machine on. He stretched his arms above his head, linking his fingers together and groaning. His body ached from a long week of shifts at the fire station. Percy loved his job, even the saving-kittens-from-trees and giving-talks-to-middle-schoolers parts, but he sure did miss having regular weekends; this had to be his first one in at least a month.
He padded into the kitchen and pulled a glass from the cupboard and turns the tap on to fill it up with water. The sink was underneath a window which looked out across the street and gave him a view of the block of apartments directly opposite. That was the thing with Manhattan, Percy saw his neighbours all the time - all crammed on top of one another like they were - but he never spoke to them.
One particular neighbour Percy wished he could speak to was the girl who lived across the street from him. He often saw her curled up on the window seat with a book in her hands, eyes trained sharply on the page, hair draped over one shoulder or pulled up into a sloppy bun. More than once, they’d made eye contact and tipped their coffee mugs awkwardly at one another. But other than that, Percy hadn’t had any contact with her. They weren’t in the same building to bump into each other in the elevator or picking up their mail.
As Percy looked up through the window this morning, hoping to see her, and he was met with exactly that. She was standing at her window with a mug of coffee and one hand over her mouth, those sharp eyes of hers drawn wide in shock and oh god.
Oh fuck. No, please no.
Blood rushed to Percy’s cheeks as he registered what he’d done. Before his shower, he’d opened the blinds of his glass balcony doors and he’d just walked across his apartment to his kitchen, passing that window and fuck. She’d have seen… everything.