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Confession

Summary:

Nothing could have ever prepared Clarie for a party of Jacinthe's turning into - into this. This being a reveal of feelings she wants nothing more than to believe are real.

Features my self insert, Clarie. Not Harmony, but can be Reader/Corbeau, if you want.

Notes:

Holy crow, did it take me way too long to write something with my husband! That being said, this is my very first Corbeau work, so hopefully I did our short king justice!

Let me know down in the comments below.~

This is extremely self indulgent, especially considering I am a selfshipper and have multiple f/o's in my gigantic ass dreamland, Corbeau simply being one of them, literally ever since Pokémon ZA came out and I got to his part.

That being said, I literally have so much planned in my little world with him so a lot of the ideas I've thought up are equally as self indulgent as this one, if not waaaay more. So if you want to see/read more, let me know, but either way, I'll probably mainly upload at my own discretion.

Oh, and fun fact, the dumbass in this, Harry, is actually named after a creepy old guy that many years ago hit on both me AND my mom. So a giant F you to all the creeps out there! ;3

Anyway...enjoy my fellow demons. And Happy Holidays, whatever it is that you celebrate!~ ♡

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

For a party thrown by Jacinthe, this one was surprisingly...dull. None of the others were here to help ease the brunette's boredom, as they'd already had prior commitments, so it was just, her and herself, Pokémon safe in their balls nestled inside the cross body she wore. The only one she could find to match her dress.

And speaking of her dress, apparently - "Hey, there. Cute dress."

Clarie, nursing a simple watermelon sangria at the bar, turned to find a strange man slinking out of the shadows toward her. She already didn't like that. It personally gave her the vibe of a Duskull whose unsurprising intent for the night seemed to be maliciously making kids cry.

Knowing she had to say something if she didn't want him to creep any closer, she just pulled something out of her ass, as she often did in hella awkward situations such as these. "Oh, uh, thanks?"

And he crept closer anyway. Great.

"Why say that like it's a question, cutie," the man laughed, clearly acting like he thought he was so much cuter than he actually was. Like that didn't just piss Clarie off.

Charming, indeed.

She gave an awkward smile that most definitely shifted into a twisted grimace as she turned away, hoping that ignoring the stranger would prompt him into leaving to find other Magikarp in the sea. It didn't.

She rolled her eyes into her drink as she took a sip, though that sip sadly went to waste in the form of a spit take when the man dared to grip Clarie's shoulder kind of like he already owned her. "Hey -"

"No need to be so aloof, sweetheart. My name's Harry."

"That's nice, but I didn't ask."

"Come on now, there's no reason to be like that." Be like what? Defensive when telling someone no didn't get them to listen? "I told you my name, now what's yours?"

Just then, another man crept from the shadows, though this one's presence was more than definitely welcome. Not just now, but anytime, anywhere.

"I don't know if you're just daft, but she clearly isn't interested."

"Corbeau...!" Clarie breathed, heart leaping at the sight of the man that now owned her heart. Had since not long after that initial first meeting talking of rightfully paying back your debts, no matter how dumb you were to have acquired said debt in the first place.

She loved Urbain, but come on.

Although...it had led to meeting Corbeau in the first place and she had already forgiven her first ever city friend anyway, so she supposed she could be a little more lenient.

The Rust Syndicate Leader struck an imposing figure, lit menacingly by the back lights showering down over him like black stardust. And Mew, he did not look impressed one bit, or pleased, for that matter. In fact, he looked one wrong word away from a Pokémon battle where he initiated Mega Evolution from the get go. Scolipede, of course would dominate with no real direction even needed, seeing as the bug horse always seemed to be riding the same wavelength as his trainer.

Clarie had seen it firsthand - the imminent Mega Evolution, that is - and that wasn't even mentioning her Battle Royale match with the pair. It would be as stunning now as it had been then, more so now considering how incredible she knew the man to really be upon the friendship that had blossomed immediately after their match.

Nevermind how her feelings had grown for the man with the intimately intimidating aura. Now that was another story entirely.

She broke free of her wandering thoughts with a quick shake of her head, bringing herself back to the present and subsequently the standoff before her eyes with a jolt. Corbeau seemed to give her a barely there smile upon hearing her say his name, if the small upward twitch of his lips was anything to go by, complete with his head tilted her way.

Corbeau then turned his attention back to Harry, the switch in his demeanor immediate and like flipping a light switch. Clarie felt her stomach give a delightful roll, surprised that the other man had somehow held his ground in the face of Corbeau's ire instead of running away with his tail between his legs.

"I was talking to her, man. Stop butting in where you're not wanted," Harry scoffed, apparently unaware that he had just signed his death warrant.

So he was stupid AND blind, good to know.

And, oh, had he struck a nerve, the familuar vein in Corbeau's forehead making a throbbing appearance with severely increasing annoyance. "Some people," Corbeau started in a soft, deceptively dulcet tone, "just don't know when to quit."

He fixed his sleeve, pulling out Scolipede's ever familiar Dusk Ball, and that was when the light finally clicked for Harry, proving just how deadly serious Corbeau had been this whole time.

"Oh, uh...would you look at the time," Harry laughed nervously, looking at the apparently invisible watch on his wrist. "I totally forgot I have a prior engagement that, um...desperately needs my attention. See ya!"

Harry fled, the proverbial smoke on his heels almost visible with how fast he booked it, and Clarie smothered a laugh into her hand, eternally grateful for protective friends. Or in Corbeau's case...hopefully something more. One day.

"Thanks for the save, Corbeau," she smiled, feeling her eyes do that thing where they crinkled in the corners from the force of her joy.

Corbeau met her gaze evenly, and Clarie had to force herself not to look away in her nervousness, her breath catching at the look in his eyes. Steadfast and smoldering. Unwavering. And...something else.

"Corbeau...?" she murmured, heart pounding.

"Not here," Corbeau responded gruffly, already turning away and making his way toward the balcony, which was pretty much empty at this time of night.

Clarie, afraid she might have - completely unintentionally - done something wrong, stumbled after the man with frenzied steps. She wasn't drunk, nor was she even tipsy, but she felt like a newborn fawn even still.

The cool night air sent goose bumps rippling down Clarie's arms, but she still mirrored Corbeau in resting her arms on the cold, metal railing overlooking the city, shivering as she did so.

His gaze had gone flat, almost like a defense mechanism of sorts, letting the mind take the brunt of what was about to happen in order to protect the heart. Only, Clarie had no clue what was about to happen.

Well, she had an inkling, that maybe he was about to let her down easy, having sensed her brimming feelings somehow while they were inside, but maybe that was purely her anxiety talking. Probably.

Hopefully.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you out here," Corbea stated softly. The softest Clarie had ever heard him speak.

She didn't answer, unable to find the words, so she just nodded, though it seemed like he would have continued on with his testimony even if she hadn't given any kind of response.

"Because as it were, you may be perceptive when it comes to other's emotions, but simultaneously, you can be quite dense when it comes to realizing just how much others care for you. I'm not quite sure how that's possible, but I've learned not to ask when it comes to certain questions."

He huffed lost, little laugh, so unlike him, and Clarie could do nothing but nod again.

"Some questions don't always have answers," she finally settled on, spoken as softly as his words before.

Corbeau turned to her then, finally snaring her in his golden molten gaze once more. "Like feelings, perhaps."

"One's feelings are often the biggest enigma life has to offer. Who can say why we feel the way we do," Clarie continued on with a shrug.

It was Corbeau's turn to nod in response this time, silence settling in over the pair like a thick comforter to combat the nighttime chill. Comfortable and not awkward, purely because of who it was with.

Eventually, the silence came to an end, as the blanket fell away and invited the cold back in. A single moment couldn't last forever, sadly.

"Even if that miserable cretin had just been a harmless, stuttering kid with good taste, I still wouldn't have been able to help myself," he said after a moment, gaze still holding Clarie in place like a butterfly pinned to a spreading board.

"Help yourself?" she asked, hair fluttering into her face thanks to the slight breeze their way.

"From being jealous," he said simply.

And Mew, did the implications of that one, short sentence short circuit Clarie's brain, once she was able to process them properly. Jealous? Corbeau? No, that couldn't possibly...

Although it would explain why he was acting a bit odd tonight. And it would also explain why he seemed to unexplainably soften whenever she was around. Why he'd let his walls down and actually let her in.

But still...

He - liked her? Like liked her?

Mew, what was she, in grade school? No one used the term like liked anymore. But it was still too soon for love, wasn't it?

In her ensuing silence, Corbeau's shoulders had stiffened inward, tightening as he came to precarious conclusions that could never be true, not in this universe, nor in any other. If Clarie's intuition could be believed, that was.

"Hey, now," Clarie murmured fondly, reaching out to smooth the wrinkles on the shoulder of his jacket with a smile.

Corbeau turned back toward her, eyes having slightly widened in surprise. That thought made Clarie preen on the inside, seeing as it was usually pretty difficult to catch the Syndicate Leader off guard.

Clarie took a deep breath and continued. "You need to give me some time to figure out the method to your madness. You said so yourself that I can be pretty unaware when it comes to other's feelings for me."

The look in Corbeau's eyes then became unmistakable, and Mew, if Clarie had felt like a pinned butterfly before...

It was unguarded now, the clear affection in his gaze dripping like golden molten lava, or honeyed poison. He was a poison she would willingly indulge in over and over again; until her organs gave out on her and she ended up in an aphrodisiac stemming coma.

"You're different than all the rest," Corbeau rasped, meaning more than just the Savior of Lumiose title Clarie held after being dubbed so by the grateful city folk.

She wasn't the only one who held the title anyway, though she could only guess what else Corbeau could possibly mean.

"You're different than all the rest," he repeated seriously, "and you don't even realize it. How amazing you are."

"I could say the same about you, but you do in fact know how amazing you are," Clarie couldn't help but tease.

Corbea snarked a laugh at that, sounding more like himself than he had since his almost showdown with Harry. "Arceus..." he murmured to himself, though he made no move to do anything or even close the distance between the two of them.

Head tilting in confusion, it took Clarie a couple more fragmented moments to realize that out of respect for her, Corbeau wouldn't do anything. Not yet. Not until Clarie initiated whatever she wanted to happen; then and only then would Corbeau remove the veil and reclaim the title of the most domineering man Clarie had ever met.

She had to make the first move. No matter that his pupils had become swallowed by each iris as the night slowly wore on, looking like black pools dripping gold tears.

Clarie stepped forward, closing the distance and Corbeau tilted his head downward ever so slightly in anticipation. Still, he was leaving this decision - this life altering event - up to her.

She didn't have to stand on tiptoe to reach his lips, but she did have to arch them up a bit, close, but not quite touching yet. He really was leaving it up to her, letting her choose, him, or walking away no questions asked.

As if she would ever walk away from this man.

Surging forward, as the world itself seemed to still and wait with bated breath, she finally connected their lips with the same kind of intensity she battled with. Corbeau reciprocated perfectly, bumping noses as he rearranged their mouths to slot together differently, so that he could thrust his tongue inside her mouth and finally give himself a taste of what they'd both stupidly almost tried to deny themselves.

It turned out that 'one day' was apparently today. And oh my Mew, was Clarie okay with that. More than okay.

She let loose a soft moan, feeling weak at the knees. In perfect tandem, Corbeau's hands came up to grip her hips - tightly, possessively, but not painfully - keeping Clarie from falling.

Although the joke was on him, because she had long since already fallen in deep. The thought alone caused a laugh to bubble up in her throat, prematurely breaking their kiss, though Corbeau actually didn't seem to mind.

"I never thought, in a million years, that I could ever be right about this," Clarie laughed breathlessly. "Good thing for gut feelings, huh?" She looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

Corbeau, equally as breathless, reached out to fix her glasses, which their kiss had shifted out of place. "You may have good taste," he said referring to how her frames matched his - completely unintentional and purchased before they'd even met, "but I think you might need new glasses, dear."

"A new prescription, at the very least," she added, feeling her eyes doing that crinkling thing again.

"At least," he parroted smugly, hands still at her hips.

He'd come away with the real prize of the night, what he'd been after for months now. Clarie would be surprised if his pride didn't in fact rival that of a Pyroar's.

"That must have been one hell of a struggle, showing such restraint just now," she grinned, returning the favor of him fixing her glasses by fixing his rumpled tie.

"You have no idea," he growled, eyes flashing with the two L's. Lust and...it couldn't really be love already, could it?

Hands shifting on her hips as if he thought he should let go, but didn't want to, Corbeau took Clarie by surprise yet again. "How about I take you out for a night on the town?"

"So Lumiose is a town now?" Clarie found herself asking cheekily.

Corbeau's eyes narrowed. "Don't get smart, darling," he warned, though his lips twitching gave him away. Again.

"Um, how about a rain check on that?" Clarie bit her lip, the adrenaline fading away and leaving her feeling suddenly nervous. Strange, seeing as she should have been terrified at having to make the first move in all of this, but as she'd alluded to before, feelings were weird.

Love was weird.

"Why don't we just go back to the hotel and...I don't know, I'm sure we can find something to do. A battle, perhaps? I think you got Scolipede's hopes up earlier. That wasn't really fair, denying him a dumbass trainer to devour like that."

Corbeau's eyes glittered dangerously beneath the city lights, but nowhere near the same kind of danger that they'd promised at the start of the night with Harry. "Hotel Z?" He wrinkled his nose in a show of disgust. "And have to share you with that rowdy friend group of yours, no way.

"How about we go back to my place instead? It's a penthouse with a gorgeous view of the city. We don't - we don't even have to do anything, just...don't leave."

"That sounds perfect..." Clarie murmured, heart so pleasantly full she was partially afraid it might burst.

"Good," Corbeau breathed, visibly relieved, even if he would never say so out loud. "I was afraid I was going to have to tell you that you're not allowed to ever leave, now that I have you."

"You still can," Clarie shrugged with a smile. "Tell me that, I mean. The night's only just begun. But first...there's something I want to check."

Reluctantly, she pulled herself from Corbeau's immediate space, but absolutely could not contain the fluttering of her heart when he kept his hand in hers, allowing her to lead him back inside with a deliberately tender, almost shy squeeze of her fingers.

Her leftover drink, left unattended this whole time, was nowhere to be found, but her Froslass, Miko - the Froslass she'd saved from Rogue Mega Evolution and had forced its way onto her team after the fact - was there, floating by the counter with seeming ghostly disinterest, at least until Clarie came back into view.

She cooed, that soft sound that was typically chilling to anyone except their trainer, and sure enough, Clarie brightened in response. "You got rid of my drink, didn't you, Miko? Good girl! That bastard probably spiked it after I left anyway."

Froslass trilled in agreement, going back to the Dusk Ball Clarie held out without complaint, all while giving off the aura of a Pokémon perfectly satisfied with itself, even once back inside the comfort of said ball. Clarie and Corbeau both stared at said ball for a few long moments before turning back to one another with matching smirks.

"Oh, yeah, Scolipede is definitely going to need to let loose tonight," Clarie said with a chuckle.

Corbeau brushed some of her dark hair behind her ear, eyes still smoldering. "Good thing his trainer's already started," he replied, leaning in for another kiss.

It was a kiss Clarie returned fervently, despite the many people more than likely watching, continuing to mill about in the hopes of spotting tabloid worthy news. She knew that Corbeau initiated this kiss partially because he simply wanted to and couldn't get enough of her, but also partially because he wanted to send a message to everyone watching that Clarie was his and no one else's. Warning anybody that dared come close what would happen if they got on his bad side, or her's, for that matter.

They could only hope Jacinthe wasn't watching.

Oh, who were they kidding? Jacinthe was always watching. Mew help them...

Notes:

Why does hardly anybody else ever use Mew when saying things like oh my God and stuff? Because, okay, Arceus created Pokémon, whoopdeedoo, but Mew is still the creation Pokémon so that would essentially make Mew Pokémon Jesus.

Just food for thought.