#and because of THAT one i’m behind schedule for march

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗙 lewis hamilton x  fem! genz! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . You never meant to fall for a man twice your age, but somehow, Lewis Hamilton makes thirty-something age gaps feel like background noise. In a world of fast cars and faster headlines, you become the softest scandal on the grid—his controversially young girlfriend (2.3k words)

( my master list | more of lewis hamilton ) ( requests )

You spot him across the room like a plot twist in a book you didn’t mean to start reading—one of those late-night, one-more-chapter choices that end with your sleep schedule in ruins and your heart a little dented.

He’s standing by the bar like he owns the concept of cool, leaning one elbow against the counter, glass in hand, dressed like he just got off a jet and into a Vogue spread. Chunky rings flash with every movement. A silver chain rests on his collarbone like it was born there. Sunglasses inside—normally a red flag—but on him? It’s working. Unreasonably well.

He doesn’t look real. He looks curated. Like someone who’s used to being watched. Someone who doesn’t have to try to be interesting, because the world already decided he is.

And the weird part? You don’t know who he is.

Which makes him fair game.

You down the last of your drink like a dare, swipe your thumb across your bottom lip in case there’s gloss out of place, and march toward him like the protagonist of your own little fever dream.

“Hey,” you say, voice dipped in confidence, grin hooked to one corner of your mouth. “Quick question. Are you this hot all the time, or is it just the lighting in here doing community service?”

He turns his head slowly, like he knows he’s about to be entertained. Looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses with those lazy, almost amused eyes. Then lowers them altogether, letting you see the full scope of his expression.

Blink. Slow blink. Smile.

Then—laughter.

A warm, surprised kind of laugh. Like you just opened a window in a room that hadn’t been aired out in a while.

“You don’t know who I am?” he asks, head tilting, eyebrows raised.

“Nope,” you chirp, popping the ‘p.’ “But judging by that look, you clearly think I should. Celebrity? Secret agent? CEO of Hot Men, Inc.?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he lifts his drink to his lips. It’s whiskey, neat. Of course it is. “I like you.”

“Obviously,” you reply, deadpan. “So, what’s your name, mysterious man with excellent bone structure and suspicious levels of swagger?”

“Lewis,” he says. It rolls off his tongue casual and smooth, like he’s said it a thousand times to people already impressed.

You repeat it slowly, like a sip of something expensive. “Lewis. You got a last name, or are you trying to stay mysterious on purpose?”

“I’m trying,” he says, smirk tucked behind his glass. “But now I’m curious. How old are you?”

You narrow your eyes in playful suspicion. “Why? You tryna check if I need parental permission to flirt with you?”

He laughs again, and it’s even better this time—less surprised, more like he’s starting to settle into the rhythm of you. “Just making sure I’m not getting arrested.”

“Relax, officer,” you reply, pressing a palm to your chest with mock innocence. “I’m twenty-four. Legal, unproblematic, and only occasionally unhinged.”

But his smile shifts—just slightly. A flicker of something cautious flashes behind those honey-brown eyes.

“Damn,” he mutters, not unkindly. “I’m too old for you.”

You arch a brow. “You can’t be that old.”

He gives you a small shrug. “I’m forty.”

There’s a beat.

A pause long enough to pour another drink in.

Your jaw drops. You step back, press a hand to your mouth in mock horror.

“Wowe,” you gasp. “You’re a fossil. How were the dinosaurs? Did you ride a pterodactyl to school?”

He throws his head back and cackles, catching the attention of the bartender and a couple people nearby. It’s not just amusement—it’s delight. You got him.

“Ruthless,” he grins at you.

You shrug, unapologetic. “What can I say? I like my men aged like wine and slightly traumatized.”

He raises his glass. “Well. You might be in luck.”

You clink your empty glass against his full one, eyes never leaving his.

Somewhere in the background, a bass-heavy track starts to play. But the real beat is in the space between you—charged and golden and humming with the promise of something very, very interesting.

You’re not supposed to be here.

Not in the paddock. Not wearing borrowed sunglasses and an oversized McLaren jacket that smells like someone else's boyfriend. Not sipping on a bottled water like you belong, casually trying not to gawk at multi-million-dollar cars or the people walking around like they own oxygen.

But you’re here.

A friend’s plus one, a last-minute invite when her PR-boyfriend flaked on escort duty. So you tagged along—because hello, free food, hot people, shiny cars, and maybe the chance to flirt with a driver or two. You figured worst-case scenario, you'd leave with a selfie and a new screensaver.

What you didn’t expect was to see him again.

Lewis.

Mysterious Lewis from the bar. GQ-cover Lewis. Ring-wearing, chain-glinting, forty-year-old fossil Lewis who made you laugh so hard you almost forgot your own name.

He’s walking through the paddock like he’s parting the sea. Everyone moves around him like he's made of something sacred—crew nodding, fans whispering, someone with a camera backing up just to get the shot. He looks… different today. Like he’s not just dressed cool, but armored in it. Like confidence stitched into a race suit.

Your jaw almost hits the gravel.

You don’t even think—your feet just move.

“Lewis!”

He turns.

Sunglasses again, of course. But when he spots you? That smile. Slow, warm, like he knew you'd show up eventually.

You grin, planting yourself right in front of him, toe to boot.

“Okay,” you say, breathless but smug, “you cannot turn me down this time. This is clearly fate.”

He laughs. It rumbles in his chest, head tilting like he’s trying to drink you in without making it obvious.

“You really didn’t Google me, huh?” he says.

You raise a brow. “Should I have? Wait, are you, like, a famous pit crew guy or something? The energy drinks guy?”

He just smiles. The kind of smile that hides a hundred secrets and a thousand wins.

“I gotta go,” he says, stepping closer for just a second. “But I’ll see you on the podium.”

You blink. “What podium?”

But he’s already walking away.

Helmet under one arm, swagger turned up to eleven, disappearing into one of the Mercedes garages like some kind of very sexy magician.

You look to your friend. “What podium?!”

Your friend is pale. “You don’t know who that is?”

“Should I???”

“That’s Lewis Hamilton.”

You snort. “No it’s not. His name is just Lewis. He didn’t even give me a last name.”

“BECAUSE HE’S LEWIS HAMILTON. SEVEN-TIME WORLD CHAMPION. THE GOAT. LITERAL SIR.”

You freeze. Fully buffer. Brain spinning like a car on slick tyres.

Cut to three hours later, and you’re in the Mercedes unit, watching on the big screen as the man you once called a fossil overtakes two cars and wins the freaking British Grand Prix like it’s casual.

The crowd explodes.

Your heart does too.

You're on your feet, half in disbelief, half in awe. You just watched a man drive like a myth, and all you can think is: he told me he was forty and I made a dinosaur joke.

And just as you start contemplating crawling into a hole forever, he finds you again.

Post-race glow. Hair half-flattened from the helmet. Fireproof suit half-unzipped to reveal that chain you remember from the bar. Sweat and champagne still clinging to his skin like stardust.

He looks at you with that same grin.

“Still think I’m someone’s manager?” he teases, voice low, eyes shining.

You gape at him. “You won. Like, you—won. Your name’s on the trophy. That podium. That—your home race??”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Must be fate. You show up, I win. Gotta say… you might just be my lucky charm.”

Your brain short-circuits. “I—I called you a fossil.”

He laughs. Full, delighted, Lewis-laugh. “And you humbled me before I got cocky. We make a great team.”

You bite back a grin, cheeks burning. “So… you celebrating tonight, or what?”

“Obviously,” he says. “You’re coming.”

it’s supposed to be a quick trip. A flash visit, blink-and-you-miss-it, in-and-out kind of thing. You’ve been swamped—deadlines, drama, flights rerouted like bad karma—but something in you ached to be there. For him. For Lewis.

So you made time. You chose time.

And now? Now you’re stuck in Austrian traffic, inching toward the Red Bull Ring in a car that’s doing more idling than moving, hair frizzing in the heat and hands white-knuckling your phone.

You press it to your ear. “I swear to god, if I miss your race because a literal cow is blocking the road—”

Lewis laughs on the other end, warm and fond. “A cow?”

“A cow, Lewis. Just standing there. Living her truth. Meanwhile, I’m two bad songs away from losing it.”

“You sound stressed, babe.”

“Gee, what gave it away?” you snap, then sigh. “Sorry. I just wanted to be there before lights out. Front row, proud girlfriend, full ensemble.”

His voice softens. “You’re here. That’s what matters.”

“Barely.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still my lucky charm. Even if you’re watching from the parking lot.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. “Go win something, fossil.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He gets P2.

You watch the final laps on your phone screen, pressed against the parkinglot gates, heart in your throat and hands half-numb. The crowd erupts. Flags wave. You swear you can hear the champagne pop all the way from the parking lot.

And then—

There he is.

Striding out from the gates like he owns Austria, still in his suit, curls damp under his cap, smile already loaded like a secret.

“Hey,” he calls out, just loud enough for you to turn.

You do. And then you forget how to breathe.

Because Lewis Hamilton kisses you like the cameras aren’t watching. Like the whole world doesn’t know his name. Like you didn’t just call him a fossil two weeks ago and now you’re wearing his hoodie like a badge of honor.

You pull back, dazed and pink. “That was… public.”

“Could’ve made it more dramatic,” he teases. “Want a dip next time?”

“You’re so cocky for a man who came in second.”

He grins. “I’ll take second if it means I get to see that blush.”

You're about to fire back—something witty, something flirty—when someone from Mercedes runs up, breathless. “Lewis, mate. You need to come back to the unit. Now.”

He frowns. “Everything alright?”

The guy looks between the two of you, eyes wide. “George got disqualified.”

You both blink.

“What?” you say, at the same time Lewis mutters: “No way.”

“Track limits. Deleted laps. It just came through.”

Which means—

“You’re P1,” you whisper, eyes wide.

Lewis turns to you, slow and stunned. Brows raised. Smile blooming like he knew.

“Guess you really are my lucky charm,” he says, low and gleaming.

You shake your head, biting back a grin. “I didn’t even see the race.”

“Didn’t have to,” he murmurs, already pulling you into his arms. “Just had to show up.”

Thursdays are usually soft-launches. Media day. Press conference drip. Everyone pretending they’re not sizing each other up, that they’re not itching for Sunday, that they’re not clocking every outfit and wink and subtle little flex.

But this Thursday?

You walk in and the whole paddock blinks.

Because Lewis Hamilton—Sir Lewis Hamilton—is already waiting by the entrance like a man on a mission. Like the sun rises wherever you land. And he’s dressed like a dream dipped in platinum, silver shirt half-buttoned, rings glinting, pants tailored within an inch of heaven.

But it’s the way he looks at you that melts reality a little.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmurs as you reach him.

You grin, a little breathless, fixing the collar of his shirt even though it’s perfect. “You’re overdressed.”

He eyes your outfit—slick and sharp, Prada shades and knee-high boots like you own the grid—and hums, “Nah. We’re matching.”

And you are. Silver and black, sleek and dangerous. A walking power couple with zero subtlety. Someone snaps a pic. Then another. Cameras start clicking like popcorn.

He slips his hand into yours. Casual, confident. Like it’s nothing. Like it’s everything.

And then the tweets start.

You scroll a few of them while waiting outside hospitality, phone buzzing like a feral bee. You snort-laugh at the “get it grandpa” one. Lewis peeks over your shoulder and raises a brow.

“They’re obsessed with you,” you say, smirking.

“They’re obsessed with you,” he corrects, tugging you closer by the waist. “You okay?”

You shrug, leaning into him. “I mean, people think I’m either your niece or your mid-life crisis.”

He snorts. “You’re my win.”

Your smirk falters—just for a second—because god, he’s so earnest. So warm. Like a damn sunbeam with abs.

You recover quick, flicking your sunglasses down. “Damn right I am.”

He laughs loud, head tipping back. “There she is.”

All day, people stare.

Team members smile politely. Fans whisper behind phones. Media pretends not to mention it while asking if you're enjoying your "first F1 paddock experience" (you’ve been to three, thank you very much).

You pose for a few pics. Kiss Lewis on the cheek when he heads into the garage. Sip your overpriced iced coffee like nothing rattles you.

But every so often—when it’s quiet—you hear the whispers again. About the age gap. The headlines. The way you don’t look like you belong next to someone as legendary as him.

So when you catch your reflection in the hospitality glass—twenty-four and glowing but clearly young—you take a breath.

And then you smirk at yourself. Flip your hair. Take a selfie.

Caption it:

“idk i just think i’m a slay.”

And Lewis? He reposts it.

voice notes 🔊. . . ( im so writting a p2 for this when he moves to ferrari and the disqualifying in china )

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)

—

“Just a Trim” (Black Noir x Gn!Reader)

| In a spur of the moment move you offer to do Earving’s hair in order to spend more time with him. To your shock, he takes you up on the offer.

| SFW, Noir being briefly insecure about his disfigurement, hair care, good vibes, stand-alone fic.

| 1k+ words

Tomorrow was going to be a marked day. One of those dates that you held close to your heart and pulled out anytime you were even peripherally pressed about the event.

In passing Black Noir had mentioned his regularly scheduled grooming appointment. The hair that did still grow on his head would need a trim so he’d be offsite at a smaller Vought facility for a few hours.

You’d taken in his words, a mix between excitement that he felt it necessary to share his whereabouts at all warring with upset at how long he’d be gone (basically your whole workday) on the final day of the week you’d be able to see him until you were allowed back onto the upper floors in another four days.

It’s that heavy swirl of emotions that spurred your mouth into action and had, “I could trim it if you want,” falling past your lips unbidden.

He’d turned on deft feet at your words to stare you down from behind the mask, back ramrod straight and body still.

Finally, after maybe a minute of you waiting him out (the type of contemplative minute between you two that you cherished), Noir gave a slow nod of his head and pointed to two numbers on one of the recruitment posters on the wall next to you before marching off.

He’d indicated the numbers ‘two’ and ‘thirty’, and you’d never admit to anyone but him that you’d had a little bit of a bounce to your step after you’d registered what that meant.

So what if the thought of him allowing you into his hair had sent butterflies dashing through your bloodstream? It didn’t matter that he’d typically had what were no doubt unfeeling trims from Vought hired barbers either, because he had to know that you weren’t going to treat his hair with such clinical detachment.

You were going to be sharing some level of intimacy - he was going to let you be that intimate with him, period! - and you planned on treating this undoubtedly maskless milestone in your relationship with the appropriate amount of significance.

This was huge!

Holy hell you needed to gather your supplies.

─────

The top of his head is not devoid of similar scars as the ones that mar his face. A patch of gnarled scar tissue takes up a third of his scalp, scars running in their steep wiggling pattern and stopping any hair from growing.

The marks from the explosion still being so prominent even after all these years makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest.

His interesting hair growth pattern is the first thing that drew you gaze when you’d entered. After your greeting he’d stared at you for a while, the note paper in his hand boldly proclaiming: ‘tell me if you want me to put it back on’, before he tossed the paper aside and ripped off his mask. For a moment all you’d been able to do was blink uncomprehendingly before realization dawned and you threw him a smile, or tried to since he’d kind of stopped looking at you entirely and has just been deathly still for the last minute or so.

After that you’ve forgotten yourself too much to not let your eyes wander, the white of his blind eye snagging your attention next and then the scars that crawled up the entirety of one side of his face and sprawled into his hair stole all of your remaining attention once more.

The scars are steep and plentiful and even the reports on his injury from back when he was originally caught by the explosive didn’t do even the sight of the scars left behind justice.

Finally, his expression registers and you cringe back and tear your gaze away from him entirely at the edges of the grimace you can see on his downturned face.

Way to go, you’ve gone and made the man uncomfortable.

“I’m ready when you are,” you say quickly, voice soft as you move further into his sparse personal space in the tower.

With a tentative two person shift and shuffle routine eventually you both end up settling down, you sitting towards the edge of the only lounge chair in his sitting room - bare feet planted flat on the unbelievably soft carpet - and Earving on the ground between your spread legs.

You don’t really talk much after that, preoccupied with getting his hair saturated with water so that it’s ready for you to detangle and stretch. The last thing you want to do is take length off of Earving’s hair that he didn’t want and skew his trust like that.

Up close his scarring is easier for you to map out as you brush your fingers over his wet curls with the finger of one hand, nothing but the edge of your pinkie on your other hand daring to press into his hairline in order to brace his head and keep it still.

Unthinkingly you stray from running over his curls to trace the border of the patch of skin between the scars on his head and the growth of his hair with your nail. The blunt point shifts fine hairs and barely applies any pressure as it goes but Earving shivers anyway.

The speed you snatch your hand back with jostles the both of you.

“Sorry!” Your voice comes out mostly squeak as you pull away even more, doing everything but straight up sailing across the room as your face heats up something fierce - though your cheeks show nothing for it - and your hands raise placatingly. “I’m so sorry. That’s on me. I wasn’t thinking—”

Your word vomit stops dead when Earving begins shaking his head and fully pivots his head up to look at you. From between your legs where he’s sitting down, stretched out legs crossed at the ankle in front of him and face on full display for you, he looks so damn unreal your words peter off like a dying engine.

Christ almighty if Earving didn’t look painful, but he was perfect all the same.

Watching the way he so readily faces you now with both his good and bad eye without obstruction and the tentative quirk of his lips, you shiver. So fucking perfect.

He shakes his head again, his functioning eye still meeting one of your similarly brown ones, and then leans forward to press a lingering kiss to the bend of your knee.

At no point does he stop holding your gaze.

A tiny noise falls from your lips and you watch, entranced, as a full lopsided smile takes over the bottom half of his face before he nuzzles into the brown skin on the inside of your thigh with another branding press of his lips.

“Earving,” you breathe, too close to choked up to regulate your voice anymore than that.

Your tone is incredibly transparent, but you can’t even be mad about it when he’s gazing up at you with such a sharp glimmer in his eye.

In response he wraps a tender hand around your ankle and taps lightly at your skin for you to continue before stretching his neck back until his damp hair is pressed to your stomach again.

Painfully aware of your closeness - and where his head is, good lord - you heed his request with far steadier fingers than before.

Y’all were good. He’s pretty clearly just shown you that, now you just had to let yourself believe it.

This time when you press against his head to shift him around as you work you’re not so tentative.

When you brush your free hand down his face to ease him into a better angle for you to pick out his hair he leans into your hold and strengthens it, his breath rushing over your fingers like a proclamation as you run the pad of your middle finger over the bow of his lip and the raised lines of his scars brand a claim into your palm.

When the teeth of the pick snag on a tight congregation of coils and you murmur a soft apology his thumb rubs circles into the ball of your foot and sends shivers up your dark skin.

When you’ve finally combed out his shrinkage and pulled out the well loved hair grade shears he responds to the shaky breath you take while lifting the blades to his head with a firm grip on your ankle and a strong squeeze to ground you.

The both of you move like this for the rest of the hour and by the end you’re trimming with steady hands and intermittently tipping Earving’s head up to blow away stray hair trimmings and press little kisses along his hairline just to draw out his telltale huff of laughter.

Sure, after this you’ll both go back to just being two people working in the same unfeeling company and Earving will go back to being Black Noir, one of the ever merciless gods that you were all little more than ants in the eyes of, but for now he pulls you up and you tug him down and y’all are able to come together like wayward nephilim to experience the finer things in life somewhere in the middle of all that hierarchical bullshit.

Just for an hour or two; trapped in your own little pocket of the world.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! Please mind any typos, I am but one lowly creature and my eyes can only catch so much.

I don’t know why this character is so amazing at being my impromptu spur of the moment muse, but he really is so good for it.

Also, lowkey I kind of feel like Noir would wear his mask all the time even if he’s wearing civilian clothes like Wade/Deadpool tends to do (and there might’ve been a Vought commercial of him wearing civilian clothing over his suit once so there’s also that option). I don’t know, the image just came to me.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[lvnleah]

011. | Beach days

word count: 1.6k

find the masterlist here!

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March 9th 2024 | 36 + 2 days pregnant.

“Jesus Christ, how much stuff did you pack!” Leah playfully groaned as she rolled your suitcase in, Keira following closely behind her.

You shrugged and laughed as you poured yourself a glass of water, “Just enough to last me while we’re here!”

Leah shook her head, Keira laughing behind her, “Babe, we’re here two days, not two weeks!”

“Oh c’mon, Le!” Keira said to her best friend, “Y/N’s never been a light packer and now she’s pregnant she’s obviously going to need more stuff!”

“Keira‘s right, babe.” You smiled, “I do need more stuff now I’m pregnant because you know I can’t decide anything!”

“These are going to be two days of hell with you two ganging up on me,” Leah muttered under her breath.

Leah had the rare weekend off as she didn’t have a game so you and her decided to fly out to Spain to watch Keira play. She was playing away against Sociedad and you’d booked a little beach house for a few days so you could all spend time together.

Leah rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. Despite her complaints, you knew she was happy to be here as it would probably be the last time in a while you’d get to go away together before your baby boy arrived.

The beach house was perfect, nestled just a stone’s throw away from the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore could be heard from the kitchen.

“Alright, let's get settled in before we head out to explore,” Leah suggested, eyeing the towering stack of luggage. “I’ll take the big one to the bedroom.”

“I’ll help!” Keira chirped, grabbing a smaller bag and following Leah down the narrow hallway.

It wasn’t often you all got to be together like this, with Leah and Keira’s demanding schedule it was hard to arrange trips together like you used to. This trip was a rare gem, and you were determined to make the most of it.

A few minutes later, Leah and Keira returned, slightly flushed from the exertion. “Okay, rooms are sorted. Who’s up for a walk on the beach?” Leah asked, already slipping off her shoes.

You grinned, “I’m in! Let me just grab my things and we can go.”

Suddenly, a sharp tightening sensation gripped your abdomen. You winced, placing a hand on your belly as your other one gripped the counter.

"Y/N, you okay?" Leah asked, noticing the change in your expression.

You took a deep breath, trying to relax. "I think it's just Braxton Hicks," you said, trying to sound reassuring but feeling the discomfort all the same.

It soon passed and you were able to carry on. You’d been having practice contractions for the past couple of weeks, they felt like mild period cramps but your midwife reassured you it was normal.

As the three of you strolled down to the beach, the sand warmed beneath your feet. Leah and Keira were chatting about their upcoming matches. You knew these two days would pass in a blink, but for now, you were perfectly happy right where you were.

The beach was almost deserted, with a few scattered tourists soaking up the late afternoon sun. You found three spare sun beds and laid out a blanket, sitting down with a sigh of relief.

“Would you be alright if I went in the sea with Kei?” Leah asked, her voice soft.

You nodded. “I’m good, Le. I'm a little tired, so I’ll just read my book.”

She kissed the top of your head. “Sounds good, shout for me if you need me okay?”

“I will,” you agreed, watching Keira as she waved for Leah to join her. “Go be big kids like you both are!”

Not even thirty minutes later, you find yourself being smothered by a dripping wet Leah. “Leah!” You screeched, “Jesus Christ!”

Leah laughed, her wet hair clinging to her face. “Just wanted to cool you off a bit,” she teased, giving you a cheeky grin.

You playfully swatted at her, trying to shield yourself from the cold droplets. “Well, mission accomplished! Now get off me before you soak everything!”

Keira joined in the laughter, drenching water from her hair as she approached. “You know she won’t stop until you’re completely drenched, right?”

“I’m starting to realise that,” you said, struggling to keep a straight face as Leah continued to hover over you.

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave,” Leah conceded, stepping back but not before planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “But only because I love you.”

“You better!” you replied, still grinning. “Now, go dry off and let me enjoy my book in peace.”

“Sure you don’t want to come in?” Leah asked you.

You shook your head, patting your belly. "I'm good here, thanks. I'll stick to the sand for now."

Leah kissed your forehead and smiled, running back to the water as she raced Keira. You settled back into your sunbed, opening your book and trying to distract yourself in the story. However, the discomfort in your lower back kept pulling you out of it. Shifting positions didn't seem to help, and after a while, you gave up on reading.

You watched Leah and Keira splashing around in the water, their laughter carrying over the waves. It was heartwarming to see them so carefree, but you couldn't ignore the growing ache in your body. Being this far along in your pregnancy, every little thing seemed to take more effort and cause more discomfort.

Finally, you let out a frustrated sigh and sat up, rubbing your belly. The thought of another few weeks feeling like this was almost unbearable. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, not wanting to ruin the moment for Leah and Keira.

But Leah had already noticed. She jogged out of the water, concern etched on her face. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, kneeling beside you.

"I'm just... I'm so tired of being pregnant, Leah," you admitted, your voice cracking. "I feel huge, uncomfortable, and everything hurts. I just want our baby to be here already."

Leah pulled you into a gentle hug. "I know, babe," she whispered. "It's almost over. You've been so strong, and you're doing an amazing job."

Keira, sensing the shift in mood, joined you both. "Hey, it's okay," she said softly. "It's hard, but you're almost there. And you're going to be an incredible mum."

You sniffled, leaning into Leah's embrace. "I just feel so... helpless sometimes. Like I can't do anything without getting exhausted."

Leah kissed your temple. "You're not helpless. You're growing a whole new life inside you.”

“How about we head back to the house and make some dinner?” Keira suggested, “A good meal and some rest might help."

You nodded and Leah helped you to your feet, and the three of you made your way back up the beach. As you walked, Leah kept an arm around you, steadying you with every step. Once back at the house, Leah ordered a pizza whilst you settled on the sofa and Keira cut you some fruit up.

“Here,” Keira said, handing you a plate of fruit, “Le’s just ordering a pizza.”

You accepted the plate with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Kei. This looks great."

Leah came back into the room, holding her phone. "Pizza's on its way. Should be here in about twenty minutes."

You nodded and leaned back into the cushions, trying to make yourself comfortable. "Perfect.”

Leah sat down beside you and Keira laid down on the long bit of the l-shaped sofa. The pair bickered over choosing which movie to watch before finally settling on Notting Hill.

When the doorbell rang, Leah jumped up to answer it. The smell of pizza filled the house as she returned with a couple of boxes. She set them down on the coffee table and began to dish out slices for everyone.

As you took a bite, the comfort of the warm pizza was a distraction from your earlier discomfort. The three of you chatted and laughed, enjoying each other’s company. Leah and Keira’s laughter made you forget about the aches for a while.

After dinner, you all settled in for another movie, with Leah curling up beside you and Keira picking out pitch perfect this time. You felt a bit better just being with the people you loved, sharing a quiet evening.

Leah noticed you yawning, “Want to head to bed soon, babe?”

You nodded, feeling a little embarrassed about how exhausted you were. “Yeah, I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.”

As the movie came to an end, Leah helped you up from the couch and guided you to the bedroom. She made sure you were comfortable before heading to have a shower.

When Leah came out of the shower, her hair damp and her face freshly washed, she found you struggling to pull your hair up into a ponytail. Your movements were slow and your face reflected the frustration of the day's discomforts.

"Hey, let me help," Leah offered, moving behind you and taking the hair tie from your fingers. Her touch was gentle as she gathered your hair, smoothing it back with ease. "There we go, all set."

You sighed in relief, "Thanks, Le. My arms are just aching so much! I don’t know what I’d do with you.”

She kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering for a moment. "You'd do just fine.”

You slipped into bed, pulling the covers up and settling into the soft pillows. Leah joined you a moment later, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

"You okay?" Leah asked softly, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

"Yeah," you murmured, closing your eyes. "Just tired and ready for Finley to be here."

Leah rubbed soft circles on your hips. "Soon, babe. Really soon.”

[haikyu-mp4]

Little big dreams

word count; 1645 – f!reader

You’re not sure when you started noticing Tenma Udai, but you made it his problem from then on. It wasn’t because of volleyball, you barely went to any of those games.

To the volleyball team, he was the little giant, their reliable ace. To you, he was just Tenma – a good-looking kid who rewatched his games in class and tried to hide it from the teacher.

The teacher had no idea what trouble she was causing when she paired you with Tenma for classroom duty. It introduced you to his prickly nature, which you learned you enjoyed challenging.

“Hey, Lil Biggie!” you greeted him every morning, making him lift the broom as if to hit you while you laughed loudly and ran away.

“It’s Little Giant!”

After that week had passed, your head kept turning his way, and you asked some friends if the volleyball team had anything particularly draining on their schedule lately. The reason? Tenma looked like he had been through hell and back, the bags under his eyes growing darker each day.

And it concerned you. Annoyingly enough.

One evening, your club ended early and you made your way to the gym, sneaking around the corner to catch a glimpse of their practice game. To your surprise, Tenma walked out before you even got to the door, angrily marching over to the lockers and smacking his forehead against them. It made you freeze, stuck watching him as he breathed heavily and the sweat ran down his neck.

“Tenma,” you called, walking over slowly and resting a hand softly on his shoulder. It was one of the few times you said his name without any funny addition to make it a nickname, and it was just enough to make him tilt his head to where his gaze met yours.

Your lips formed a line as you eyed him, not sure what to say. You had no idea what could have made him so stressed, unaware of the pressure of being an ace.

He regained his calm and nodded as if you had a silent conversation by just staring at each other. Grabbing your hand, he pulled it off his shoulder and squeezed it gratefully before returning to practice.

You didn’t see much of him outside the classroom anymore, and your friends started teasing you for seeming to have a soft spot. A crush? Pfft, stupid.

Then one morning, a piece of paper was folded up on your desk and you frowned, looking around before picking it up. Everyone else was already rushing to their seats as the teacher walked inside, and you had to hide it behind your notebook to open in secret.

It was a drawing of you, within a square resembling a manga panel, and you tilted your head in curiosity. You had to admit it was a pretty drawing, and the two little hearts drawn over your head made your ears feel warm.

Who was it from?

You looked at Tenma wide-eyed as his eyes were locked on his shoes with a frown. “You want me to tutor you?”

“What great hearing you have,” he mumbled.

“Oy, don’t get an attitude with me now. You haven’t talked to me in a while, I’m surprised.”

“I can’t go to training camp if I don’t pass the next exams.” You hummed in understanding.

“Putting too much time into the club, are we Lil’ Big?”

“Teacher said you’re the only one with an open spot so late in the year, idiot.”

“She’s right.” You got up and hiked your bag up on your shoulder. “Got time now?”

“An hour until practice.” He followed you as you exited the classroom, intending to find a spot by the library.

“Excellent.”

Tenma was by no means a difficult student. You sat down with him and looked at some previous exams to see which topics he struggled with the most, and it seemed like he might have been too tired or distracted for a couple of lessons, probably also forgoing homework some days.

So you set a plan to do a quick version of each lesson he had slept through, and then have him do the tasks for that topic with your guidance until he could do them on his own. You two would sit together pretty much every day until his practice started. Some days he would even bring you a drink from the vending machine, and you were reminded why you liked being around him.

You stretched your arms upwards, glancing over at his paper to see his pencil had moved from the question to some blank space in the corner. Silently, you leaned closer, looking over his shoulder as he drew what looked like zombies on a volleyball court. “I didn’t know you were so good at drawing.”

He jumped, elbow accidentally bumping into your rib, making him abruptly scoot away while you clutched the impact point. “Shit, why would you scare me like that?”

“You muppet, I gave you a compliment,” you groaned, pulling the paper towards you and flipping to the previous page, where he had also fit in a couple of drawings. “Are the topics getting easier for you?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “You’re a good teacher or whatever.”

You held up a finger heart that made him cringe. “You’re such a sweetheart.” And the blush on his cheeks was visible from a mile away.

You kept spending those same hours together, but instead of studying, you started spending more time just hanging out. A fun game of him drawing whatever crazy prompts you came up with started, and it made you laugh every time.

As he walked to the bathroom one time, you pursed your lips and picked up his book, flipping to the back pages where you had noticed he drew while you were in class sometimes. Not that you stare at him in class or anything.

You found the hidden drawings, only to realise you were staring at yourself. He had drawn you repeatedly on these pages, from reading with your friends to laughing at his drawings. Your cheeks felt especially warm as you noticed the doodle of you in a jersey with his number on it, holding two thumbs up in encouragement.

Does Tenma… like you?

A door opened in the distance and you smacked the book closed, only to realise it was someone else. Phew, need some time to cool down.

You ran over to Tenma after the game, the rush of the moment making you pull him into a tight hug as you cheered. “I have no idea how this game works but I think you did so well!”

His arms held around you too, swaying you a bit as you didn’t let go right away. “I got blocked a lot, but the team pulled through in the end.” Some guys from the team watched the interaction, which he noticed over your shoulder. Tenma hesitated before kissing your temple and pulling away from the hug.

You looked at each other, smiling and somehow having another one of those silent conversations before the other players pulled him along to celebrate.

“I don’t want to play volleyball professionally.”

“Thought you loved volleyball,” you answered, but you weren’t surprised by his resolution at all.

“It’s fun. It’s fine…”

“What would you like to do instead?” Tenma hummed under his breath in thought.

“I like drawing. Writing stories. Making people feel something. Making you laugh.”

“Ever considered writing a manga?” you asked, looking over to where he was looking at internships related to drawing.

“That’s a distant dream, probably. Would you read it?” he asked back, turning to you.

“Only if you make the women super cool.”

You sighed dramatically as you walked into your apartment, hoping Tenma could hear it from wherever he was. What a hard day at work it had been, but you knew you couldn’t rest yet. “Udai?”

“In here!” he called, nudging the bathroom door open with his foot and smiling at you. “Can you do my hair?”

You shrugged your blazer off and threw it over a chair in the living room before walking over to him and taking the brush. Running it through his long hair, you noticed how high his shoulders were. “Nervous?”

“Not at all.” You laughed, picking up a hair tie and looking in the mirror to adjust the front of his hair before tying it up.

His eyes met yours with a soft look and lips pressed together in a line. “Akaashi will be there too,” you noted, moving your hands from his hair to his shoulders to massage them.

“Right, and he brought Bokuto as his plus one.” He suddenly went wide-eyed and turned around to you. “Speaking of plus ones, why haven’t you started getting ready?” he practically squealed, carefully pushing you towards the door and the rest of the way to the bedroom, while you laughed your lungs out at his antics.

“It’ll be fine! I just need to freshen up and change. All your new nerd fans will only be watching you anyways,” you said, pecking his lips before you walked to the closet to change.

You proudly held his arm at the event, helping him relax and connect with the readers as he introduced the world to his first manga.

Halfway through the event, he walked up on stage, holding a copy of the book in one hand as he adjusted a strand of hair from his face to behind his ear with the other. “First of all, I want to thank the woman who stuck with me through my high school emo phase, my busy intern phase and my troubled writer phase. To my gorgeous wife, y/n, who never for a second let me down and always makes me feel like I can breathe, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

masterlist

[l0velysmut]

Can you please write Neteyam with readers as Enemies to Lovers? with smut and he says he's loved readers for a long time.Please I really love your writing.

neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

contains: enemies to lovers (but ur not really enemies), stalker neteyam, kinda manipulative neteyam if u squint???, love confession, virginity loss, tsaheylu, p in v, creampie, poorly written !!!

wc: 2.8k unedited

na’vi words: skxawng = moron/idiot.

a/n: sorry if this isn’t what you expected!

Ever since the first time Neteyam laid eyes on you, he had been head over heels in love with you. But he didn’t like that he felt that way about you, so what better way to cover it up then by hating you more than anyone else in the clan?

You were so confused when you were the only person he would target and make fun of. To the public eye, he was nice, athletic, a charmer, and overall the golden boy of the clan. And not only was he the future Olo’eyktan, but he was also the son of Toruk Makto, which in your opinion, made it even worse and even more embarrassing whenever he would bully you. So, you’ve stood up for yourself the best you could.

But the truth was, he never enjoyed bullying you. He never enjoyed calling you degrading names like stupid or meaningless. In fact, he called himself stupid on the regular for starting a hateful pattern towards you and having no choice but to stick with it.

Every day he saw you, he wanted nothing more then to tell you how he truly felt, but he couldn’t just stop being mean to you out of the blue. You’d think something was up and that he was pranking you, so he just kept doing what he’d been doing since you were children.

He watched you from afar, doing your daily chores and sticking to the routine you had forged to keep yourself busy. Neteyam kept note and even followed you from a distance just to see where you were going, and he even kept track of who you talked to.

He had memorized your schedule, so if anyone just so happened to ask him where you were, all he had to do was figure out the time and then he’d know.

But today, you were doing something different. You were going somewhere he was unfamiliar of.

So, with a quick glance around to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He discarded what he was doing, and followed you discreetly, being far away enough for you to not realize he was there. He ran up a tree and jumped from vine to vine and tree to tree, following you from above and watching like an ikran hunting its meal.

And soon enough, you came to a stop, but Neteyam’s brows furrowed when he saw the stature of another man. He hears you laugh, and you take hold of another man’s hands. He watched through the green vines, glaring at the man he knew very well from training.

His name was Eaopu, and from what Neteyam could see from training, he had nothing to offer you. He was lazy, and couldn’t tell his left from right. Neteyam was in disbelief that you went out of your way to see this man, deep in the middle of the forest. Neteyam could feel his chest tighten as his mind raced with numerous thoughts of just marching over there and bashing Eaopu’s head in then making you his, but obviously he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him because, afterall, you two were enemies and he couldn’t let you find out that he was basically stalking you and had been for years.

Neteyam watched as Eaopu pushed your dark, unbraided hair behind your ear, leaning in to whisper what he could only imagine was something dirty by the lustful look on his disgusting face.

“Eaopu,” Neteyam hears you say in an almost angry tone. “You know I don’t do that stuff. I’m waiting until marriage.”

“Oh, c’mon. We both know you won’t be mated any time soon,” Eaopu replied, grasping your forearm. “Why not just get it out of the way?”

Neteyams nostrils flare and his eyes darken as he listens to the conversation.

“Because! I want it to be special.” You tell him, pushing his chest to back him away from you, but he doesn’t budge. And Neteyam then knows what Eaopu’s intentions were with you. Leading you out into the deep forest to try to convince you to have sex with him, knowing how adamant you were on not having sex until marriage. Neteyam knew Eaopu was strong, so there’d be no way for you to get away if Eaopu tried what Neteyam feared.

“So then why’d you even meet me here? Huh?! Was this your plan this whole time? Get me all excited and leave me with blue balls?” Eaopu yelled, his voice echoing throughout the empty part of the forest you two were in.

You stare at Eaopu in disbelief as he backs you up against a tree. Neteyam then knew he had to step in.

The future Olo’eyktan jumped down from the tree and marched over to the scene, pushing back Eaopu’s shoulder, causing him to flinch.

“N-Neteyam!” Eaopu’s eyes widened, and he was taken aback by Neteyam’s sudden appearance. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, really?” Neteyam knew he didn’t have to say much in order for Eaopu to surrender in fear and walk away. When he had done so, Neteyam turned to you, back against the rough bark of a tree.

“You okay?” He asked you, observing your body language.

“I don’t need your protection.” You say, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. You were grateful, but you still quote on quote “hated” him so you had to keep that going.

“Hey, I just saved your ass from whatever he was about to do to you!” Neteyam shouted, arm pointed to where Eaopu had left.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t need you to save me! I can save myself.” You argue, and he chuckles.

“This is unbelievable.” He shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips. “I follow you out here, and save you from him, and you start-“

“You followed me out here?!” You cut him off and he freezes, lips parted. He tried to think of things he could say to get out of this.

“N-No, no. I didn’t follow you out here. Please.” He scoffed. “Why would I want to follow you, of all people? That’s ridiculous.” He defended himself, and you raised your hairless brows.

“Oh, yeah? So then how’d you get to save me just in time?” You ask, arms still crossed as you take a step towards him.

“I was hunting!” He defended once again, arms outstretched for a moment before falling to his side.

“Really? Where’s your bow and arrow?” You question.

He knew you had him, and he sighed in defeat, ears folded against his braids. “Okay, okay, fine. Yes, I followed you. But don’t let it get to your head, you skxawng. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” He admitted, his eyes not missing the way your lips quirked up slightly.

You stay silent, feeling your cheeks burn up. Your heart thumped against your chest like a rock being tossed against your skin from the inside, and you looked away.

“Thanks. I guess.” You say in a soft tone, glancing at him when he steps forward.

“You're welcome.” He replies, and both of you are silent for a few moments before he breaks it.

“Listen, I…” He starts, but doesn’t know how. “I don’t want to hate each other anymore.”

His words make you stare at him, brows furrowed. “Hey, you’re the one that started it. What did I ever do to you, anyway? Y’know, since we’re here all alone, you might as well tell me. None of your friends are around to influence you, so please. Enlighten me.”

He opens his mouth then closes it, and he sighs again. “You never did anything to me, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“You never did anything to me. I suppose I started picking on you because..” He breathes in deeply before admitting his feelings to you. “I really liked you, and I didn’t know how to go about it because I was young, and dumb. But over the years, I just started liking you more and now I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do because I was a bully and I made you hate me and I don’t think we could be anything more the enemies and it hurts my soul every time we go at each others necks because it’s not what I want! I just want…” He runs his fingers around his mouth. “I just want you.”

Your eyes are wide as you listen to his rambling, and you swallow to relieve your dry throat. He just opened his heart to you, revealing that all this time when he made fun of you and humiliated you, he actually was just in love with you.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know why I dropped this on you. I should go.” He says when you just stand there and stare at him, but as he’s about to walk away, you grab his wrist and smash your mouth against his.

He melts into the kiss, his heart melting along with it. He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and his other hand to hold your waist. This is what he’s wanted for years. He’s wanted so badly to feel your lips against his; he’s spent years just imagining it.

When you pull away, your faces stay close and you can feel his warm panting against your lips. He pressed his forehead to yours and you whispered, “I want you, too.”

His eyes close briefly with a smile stretching across his lips, and he kisses you again.

“Then be mine. Forever.” He whispers against your plump lips, and you pull away slightly. When he sees your reaction, he’s quick to drop to his knees and lean his forehead on your lower stomach, hugging your thighs. “Please, Y/N. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this; how long I’ve wanted you. Do you know how many women I’ve turned down all because I was stuck on you?” He looks up at you, amber eyes filled with an emotion you’ve never seen on Neteyam.

His eyes were glossy and he looked up at you with pure desperation. He would never force you to do something you didn’t want to, but if you truly wanted him, then you two would come to an agreement.

“Neteyam, this is so sudden… and besides, you’ve said it yourself, no one would ever want to mate with me-“ He cuts you off and stands up, cupping your cheeks.

“No, no, no, no, I was lying, I was just saying that, I’m sorry.. I never meant anything I’ve ever said about you.” He tried to reassure you, and you stared at him, not quite knowing what to do.

“You want me, too, right?” He asked, and you nodded, putting your hands on his shoulders.

He takes your hands in his and gently brings you both to the ground on your knees in front of each other. He decided to sit and have a long talk with you about everything, and you both opened your hearts to each other. Tears spilled, and laughter filled the part of the forest you two were in, but eventually you came to an agreement.

That’s how you ended up underneath him, his bare body grinding against yours. You two had finally connected after years of covered up desire, and now you were one for all of eternity.

Neteyam couldn’t describe the feeling of being mated with you in words, he could only feel how amazing and euphoric it felt for your souls to be intertwined.

You two breathed heavily, gasping and panting between kisses as Neteyam pushed into you, his cock pulsing in his hand as he breached you for the first time. You hissed at the pain of being stretched out this much for the first time, and he could feel it through the bond. He could feel your pain, but also your burning desire to get past it the best you could.

“Are you alright?” He asked in a voice you’d never thought you’d hear him talk in. He has bottomed out inside of you, and remained very still while hovering over you, his arms holding himself up at either side of your head, caging you.

He tried so hard to not pull back and pound into you like his gut was telling him to, but he wanted to listen to his heart and his mind, and he wanted to wait until you were ready.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Ju-Just go slow.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled out about an inch and then pushed in. This feeling was so new for the both of you. The way your pussy enveloped around his cock tightly made his head dizzy, and the way his cock penetrated you and hit spots inside of you that you didn’t think could be reached made your brain feel all gooey.

He kissed your jaw, and pulled out more, then back in, searching for any sign of discomfort through the bond. He fortunately found nothing within the shared connection, and slid in and out of you faster.

You place a hand down at his abs, trying to tell him to go slower because you weren’t quite ready, and he groaned before slowing down. He wanted to pound you like an animal, but he wanted you to feel good, too. He didn’t want to hurt you, not anymore. He wanted to protect you forever, and he didn’t want anyone to walk all over you anymore. Now, he would protect you like a mate should.

“Oh, great mother.” You whine, throwing your head back and clenching around him even tighter then before. He didn’t even know it was possible for him to be inside something so wet and tight.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on you for so long, I should’ve told you I loved you a long time ago.” He said softly in your ear and his hips rocked back and forth. “I regret everything from before- fuck… I regret not taking you as mine since the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

You couldn’t speak, you felt like everytime his bulbous tip hit that spongy part inside of you that felt particularly good, the air left your lungs. You struggled to form a coherent thought as his cock fucked you dumb. You never knew your enemy's cock could feel this good; though, you’re not enemies anymore.

Neteyam supported his weight on one arm while the other reached down to play with the small nub he's thought so many times about sucking and rubbing. He rubbed tight circles on your clit, making your back arch into him, your chest pressing against his.

“You’re so pretty,” He whispered, kissing your cheek and then pecking your lips. “So beautiful.”

You wanted to thank him, but you knew he could hear it in his mind.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already.” He murmured, whining loudly when his cock twitched. He felt a burning sensation throughout him, and you grind your hips back against his, helping him reach his orgasm as well as reaching your own high.

“M-Me, too, I think.” You say, panting and moaning. He rubbed your clit faster, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling his cock further inside of you.

You both cum at the same time, your orgasms sending tingles throughout both of your bodies that twitched and spasmed against each other. Neteyam’s hips continued to grind as he spilled inside of you, and you could feel his cum sloshing around inside of you. You closed your eyes at the feeling, and your hips jerked at the stimulation.

“That was…” Neteyam started talking to praise you, but he couldn’t wrap his head around how good it felt. He never thought he would actually be able to get you to be his, he always just thought he fucked up his oppurtunity to be with you, but now that he had you, he was never going to let you go for as long as you two lived.

He was going to worship you and never say anything mean to you ever again until his dying days.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and remained inside of you. You hug him tightly, inhaling his scent. Then, he rolled over to lay next to you, pulling out of you slowly with a pop! sound.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close, your nude bodies pressed against each other as your limbs tangled before finally sleeping. He knew his father would be looking for him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything else or any other responsibilities. He only cared about you now.

[disaster-writer]

Poison (Part 3/4)

Pairing: Alpha!Bokuto Koutarou x Beta!Reader

Summary: You loved love, but it wasn’t made for you… but maybe a certain Alpha could change your mind

Word Count: 6.4k

AU: Omegaverse

Part 1 Part 2

7am

”Take me to work with you again!” Ami pounced on you as soon as your alarm went off.

For the second day in a row.

”Amiiii,” you groaned, face down into your pillow, “Get off!” You threw an arm behind you to try and push her off but she easily caught it. “Why do you want to go again anyway,” you grumbled into your pillow.

”Because I want to watch all the hot alphas practice again!” She chirped. “It’s not fair you get to hog them to yourself!”

”I’m not hogging anyone! They’re my coworkers!” You yelled into the pillow, “Now will you get off!”

”Only if I can come!”

You sighed, blinking the sleepy blurriness from your eyes. “They’re doing weight training in the weight room today. I’m gonna be in my office organizing schedules and in meetings all day. You’re gonna be bored.”

”I won’t be bored!”

* * * *

“Im boreeeeed,” Ami whined, sinking into the chair she was in, almost falling off of it.

”That’s what I tried to tell you,” you all but growled while typing up a list of repairs that need to take place in the gym into a spreadsheet.

”I thought I’d be able to hang out with the Alphas.”

You rolled your eyes, stopping your typing momentarily, “Yeah cause that makes sense. The manager is gonna be hiding away in her office all day while her sister is ogling the Alphas while they’re supposed to be working. Makes perfect sense!” You scoffed.

She only grumbled something under her breath before climbing to her feet and dragging them over to your bookshelf.

Your office was so boring, she had thought.

At home your house was so colorful and loud in a way that was so aesthetically pleasing and thought out but here you had boring plain walls, with a boring plain desk, and boring plain chairs.

Honestly how Bokuto found any interest in you at all when this was how you presented yourself to the world was beyond her.

She pouted staring at the book case, “Even your books are boring— where’s the manga?”

”At home. Where you should’ve stayed.”

”What do you want to do after work today? What’s cool to do around here?”

”I’m five seconds away from kicking you out.”

”Alright fine, I’ll look for a fun place we can go eat at after— maybe we can catch a movie too!”

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose and stood up, your seat sliding out from under you. 

You marched your way towards your sister and grabbed her upper arm, “I know this is a little vacation for you,” you dragged her to the door of your office, “But I have work to do.”

You swung the door open, about to toss her out when you came face to chest with Bokuto.

You looked up at your co-worker who had a fist poised that was ready to knock on your door.

”Bokuto-san?” You furrowed your brow, “We don’t have any scheduled meetings right now, shouldn’t you be in the weight room?” You asked, grip slackening on your sisters arm.

He grinned widely as usual, “Coach called lunch!”

”Right, so,” Ami started, pulling her arm from your grasp, “I need to use the restroom! Bye!” She chirped, scampering down the hallway.

You rolled your eyes at your sister— you were sure she thought she was being little miss matchmaker again like she was back in high school.

Well that wouldn’t work this time— you were determined it wouldn’t. In high school she knew all the Alphas and had each one of them wrapped around her finger but here you were the one in charge. If she thought leaving you alone with a coworker that you saw almost every day and have spent the last two years learning everything about was going to force you two to date, then she had another thing coming.

Besides… it simply wouldn’t be professional.

You shook your head slightly, shaking the thought of murdering your sister from your mind, “Anyway— what can I help you with Bokuto-san?”

”I brought something for you!” He exclaimed, holding a bag up.

Right.

This again.

”Bokuto-san I don’t know how else to explain it to you— is that mille fueille?” 

Your eyes nearly widened to the size of dinner plates at the sight of the cake Bokuto pulled out of the bag in a clear cake container.

Bokuto grinned at the sound of your sudden excitement. 

“It is! I made it for you!”

In reality Bokuto’s sisters had mostly made the cake while Bokuto ranted about everything Ami had told him about you to them. A similar routine as they had made every bento that Bokuto had given you to help their poor dense brother out while convincing him that he was truly the chef… or baker in this case.

You continued to stare at the cake, mouth already starting to water as you partially registered Bokuto’s words, “But uh— how— how’d you know this is my favorite?” You asked, still distracted by the cake. You reached out to grab the container. 

“Intuition!” He declared proudly.

It was the first dessert on the list Ami gave him. 

“I can have the whole thing?” You asked in wonder.

”Of course! It’s for you! I also got you something else.”

You looked up as Bokuto rifled through the bag and pulled something out for you, presenting them to you as he had with the cake.

”What are these?” You asked, picking up the fabric in his hands. You unfolded it, “Kneepads?”

”I got you a matching pair to mine! They’re extra long just like my kneepads!”

And suddenly multiple things hit you at once like a bag of bricks over the head.

You took in a shaky breath as an intense heat filled up your face and you just knew every drop of blood in your body decided to travel to your head.

You nervously cleared your throat, no longer able to look Bokuto in the eye, “And— and what exactly would I need kneepads for?”

“For your volleyball games!”

”…Right.”

You were going to wring Ami’s fucking neck.

But another thought overshadowed your desire to kill your sister in that moment.

Bokuto Kotarou was courting you.

You stared at the items that you held.

Your favorite cake that he made for you. A pair of matching kneepads for your volleyball games.

Bokuto gave you these.

An Alpha gave you these because he was interested in a relationship with you, a Beta.

And if that wasn’t enough, “I was told that I should finally come out and say it,” he sucked in a large breath of air, “I have been courting you for nine months now Miss Manager, I would like to take you out on a date.”

Your knees felt weak.

”Beta-chan?” Bokuto asked you curiously as you had suddenly gone so quiet, suddenly a little nervous now for your rejection even though Ami said there was no way you’d turn him down.

Your heart thundered in your chest as you slowly looked up from the gifts and at Bokuto.

It was like you were seeing him for the first time.

And you could practically see animated hearts floating around his head as an overwhelming anxiety came over you that you had never experienced in his presence before.

‘No, no, no, no, this is so fucking bad. I can’t pursue a relationship with him— he’s my coworker. And he’s an Alpha, we’re both simply incompatible. It would never work— I’m gonna fucking kill Ami when I see her- okay well maybe one date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, Bokuto’s always been so sweet—‘

”Thank you for the gifts!” You suddenly shouted before slamming the door in his face.

Your back hit the door and you slowly slid down it in despair. 

“You’re welcome Miss Manager!” You heard him cheer from the other side, clearly not hurt in the slightest at having the door slammed in his face. “I’ll ask you out again tomorrow!” He added, clearly not dissuaded as you technically didn’t reject him and you did accept his gifts.

‘Why do I feel like I’m back in high school all of a sudden!?’ You cried in your head.

But this was the reality of the situation.

Bokuto was courting you.

And you suddenly had a crush.

You were pushed forward as Ami opened the door on you.

”What are you doing down there?” She asked, peering down at you from around the door, “Where’d Bokuto go—ah!”

”You bitch!” You shrieked, yanking on her leg and knocking her out from under herself before pinning her to the ground, “You’re playing matchmaker again! I told you to stop interfering with my love life!”

Ami managed to get you off balance, rolling you over and pinning you instead, “You needed the interference!” She yelled, “And I told you he was courting you! He just needed a push in the right direction!”

”And what am I supposed to do now!? It’s not like I can actually go out with him!”

”What? Why not?” She whined. 

“I work with him, that’s why!”

”Yeah, I looked into that and there isn’t a rule saying you two can’t date.”

”Wha— Yeah, well—“ you spluttered, “Just— stay out of my love life!— ah!” You yelped as your Apple Watch buzzed. Your eyes widened, “Get off! I have a meeting starting!” You managed to shove her off and scramble back into your office.

* * * *

Ami knew you were pissed when you refused to talk to her for the rest of the day— even when she was purposefully being annoying.

Hours upon hours of meetings had passed, hours of scheduling, hours of calling repair men and whoever the fuck else you needed to call… Ami lost track after falling asleep on your office floor.

And then Ami knew you were really pissed when you still didn’t talk on the way home.

In fact, you didn’t address her properly until you reached your house.

”Alright,” you scoffed the second the front door slammed closed. You turned to look at her, throwing your briefcase to the ground, “What did you tell him?”

She only grinned, her little canines poking out, “Mille fuille is your favorite isn’t it~” she lilted.

”Okay so you told him my favorite dessert and that I play volleyball. What else?” You crossed your arms.

She tilted her head as if to ponder what it was, before she snapped her fingers, “I told him you have a stripper  pole.”

”HAH!?” you shrieked, “You really told him that!?

”I did!” She chirped, “Along with a buncha other shit about you. I made sure that he got a full comprehensive view of you and I gave him pointers on how to court a Beta. And see how much better he did with my meddling!” She cheered.

You shook your head in exasperation, “Oh this can’t be happening.”

”But it is!” She exclaimed, jumping onto your back. “Isn’t that exciting! True love!”

You pushed her off, quickly spinning around and grasping her shoulders, “Okay, um,” you stammered, trying to organize the tornado of thoughts violently flying around your head, “Bokuto like— he actually likes me?”

”Duh.”

”No but like— he like likes me? Bokuto, an Alpha, not just any kind of Alpha but like top tier Alpha wants to date me? A Beta.”

Ami shrugged, “I’m just as shocked as you are.”

”Okay but why?”

”Oh right!” She suddenly slapped you.

You held your cheek, “What was that for!?”

”For not telling me a fucking Alpha scented you.”

”Huh?” You stared at her in utter confusion until it dawned on you. Last seasons final game. “Oh that? That was nothing.”

”Clearly not because the guys had an emotional hard on for you for nearly a year— and probably a physical one to if you think about it.”

”Shut up,” you shrieked, your face flushing, “Stop talking about Bokuto having a hard on!”

”Ohohoh,” Ami wiggled her eyebrows at you, “Does that make you embarrassed~” she teased, “You know both his stamina and power is at a 5?”

”Of course I know that, why do you know that?”

”I looked him up of course! Had to see what my baby sister was getting into! Or I guess who would be getting into her~” she wiggled her eyebrows again.

”Okay, stop it! That’s not funny!” You held your face which was now burning to the touch with your furious blush. “He’s really liked me since then?”

”Yup!”

”Oh God,” you started pacing back and forth again, “He probably thinks I’m an idiot!”

”Actually out of the two of you, he’s remarkably the idiot.”

”What do you mean?” You stopped your pacing to look at her, “I know he’s not exactly the brightest but I feel like with something like this—“

”No, he’s an idiot, trust me,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever met an Alpha so blindly loyal to someone without being in a relationship first. I gotta say, I’m a little jealous sis. That man is in deep.”

”You’re lying— I would have noticed—“

”Hellooo, anyone home?” She knocked on your head, “Of course you haven’t— he’s been courting you like you were an Omega. See, he’s sweet, but that man is stupid. But don’t worry about that, the dumb one’s are usually the best in bed.”

”No. This is ridiculous,” you shook your head, “I can’t possibly go out with Bokuto Koutarou— it’s Bokuto— professional athlete Bokuto— 6 foot 2 Bokuto… Alpha Bokuto…” you trailed off in a daze before rapidly shaking your head from that train of thought, “No it’s not happening.”

”Why nottttt,” she whined.

”Because it just can’t.” You said, “Now, I’m gonna take a long hot bath and when I come out we are putting all of that to rest and never speaking about Bokuto again, okay?”

Ami lifted a brow, staring at you unconvincingly. She knew her sister and she knew this subject would be beating a dead horse by the end of the night.

”Sure. Whatever you say~”

* * * *

You did well. You were proud of yourself.

You had managed to go the entire night without talking about the man that hadn’t left your mind.

But God, was that difficult.

You liked Bokuto. He was good energy to have around at work and he was always so sweet and friendly with everyone. The fans loved him for more than just his skills just because his personality was larger than life.

The man was truly a star.

But holy shit… he was a star that just so happened to want to take you out on a date.

You tossed and turned in bed that night. You stayed up for a while watching your favorite romance movies with Ami all the while refusing to engage with her and her teasing.

But now you couldn’t sleep.

Not when you pictured yourself in the lead role from your favorite movie and Bokuto as the love interest, determinedly pursuing her because he was so in love.

You sat up in bed. Your hair was a mess from all the tossing and turning and Mochi had abandoned you for the floor a while ago.

You quickly found yourself scrambling out of bed, grabbing your cat, and stumbling down the stairs to the guest room.

Quietly sneaking in and avoiding anything you could make out in the night, you found yourself in front of Ami’s sleeping form.

”Ami.” You whispered, “Ami— Ami— Hey!”

Ami shot up in a fright, spooking Mochi in your arms who clawed her way out of your hold, forcing you to drop her.

You frowned, staring at the thin, red scratches on your hand, “Ow…”

”What are you doing!” Ami panted, turning the night table lamp on. “You look crazy.” She said breathlessly, eyeing your wild hair and frantic look in your eyes.

”So uh—“ you started twiddling your fingers, hunched over your sister, “What has Bokuto said about me…?” You asked awkwardly, cursing yourself for sounding so high school.

A devious little grin grew on Ami’s face and she tugged you onto the bed.

”So you do want to date him!”

”I’m not saying that!” You yelped, “I just— I wanna know what he’s been saying.” You blushed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but guys don’t typically get crushes on me.”

Ami giggled such a girlish and excited laugh, you really did think for a minute that you’d been transported back to high school. “Well he seems to think you smell really good,” she giggled again as you blushed.

”If I knew he was scenting my shit I would’ve made sure to do laundry more often,” you groaned, “Or at least worn more perfume.”

”Oh don’t be silly, Alphas are more interested in natural scents anyway. Besides he’s been trying to decode yours for like ever it sounds like.”

”Decode?”

”Yeah dummy. He thinks there’s more to you that he doesn’t know about. Whyever he would think that is beyond me,” she remarked sarcastically, “You’re just oh so transparent with your coworkers.” She glared.

”I’m the perfect amount of transparent, thank you very much,” you crossed your arms.

”You don’t even go to team parties,” she deadpanned, “Have they even seen you outside of your pantsuits and tracksuits?”

”No, and they don’t need to. I have an entire team of Alphas that respect me.”

”Oh give me a break,” she rolled her eyes, “They’re not gonna lose respect for you by seeing you in a nice dress at a work party and letting your hair down a bit— and I mean that literally and figuratively— they haven’t even seen you with your hair down for goodness sakes.”

”I know that,” you huffed.

”Then what are you so afraid of!” She exclaimed in exasperation. 

You pouted, beginning to pick at your nail, murmuring something under your breath.

”What?” She asked with a confused expression, straining to hear you.

”It’s just—“ you stopped yourself, rubbing your suddenly clammy hands on your pajama pants, “Every time I try to be myself around Alphas or Omegas, I’m always let down… people don’t exactly like me, y’know.”

”That’s not true—“

”You don’t count,” you snapped, “It’s like there’s always been this divide between me and everyone else. I can’t relate to them and they can’t relate to me— it’s like we’re on completely different wave lengths. Why do you think my siblings are my best friends?”

”Well I thought it was because you liked us.”

”Tch.” You tsked, “I do… I guess I’m just tired and afraid of being rejected.”

“Then date Bokuto,” she said, clasping your hands now, a shine in her eyes as she leaned in, “I’m telling you, you guys are perfect for each other. You’re both so delightfully weird and fun to be around, and he genuinely likes you. He told me he thinks you’re really pretty and I can’t even begin to explain how excited he was to finally learn more about you. And he’s so nice—“

”You just met him,” you scoffed.

”Yeah and unlike you he actually is transparent. But it would be good for you! You deserve to be happy!”

You sighed, pulling your hands from hers to rake them through your hair, “I’ll— well I guess I already have been thinking about it. But this month is so fucking crazy already— we have a game against the Adlers this week and a huge press conference and those are always a nightmare to manage, not to mention all the sponsors that have been breathing down my neck—“

”I get it, you’re busy” she cut you off, “But you’re always gonna have something to blame putting your love life on hold, so will you actually think about it.”

”Yeah— Yeah I will,” you said, looking at her with determination now. 

“Good. Now go to bed, you have work in the morning.”

”Yeah. By the way, you’re banned from coming back,” you said, standing up.

”What? Why?”

”Two days babysitting you was enough. You don’t have to stay here but you can’t come with me to work, and I promise we’ll do something fun when I come back.”

Ami pouted, grumbling under her breath as you left the room.

* * * *

The following morning you had woken up to your alarm and just your alarm today. 

Fumbling for your phone in your bedsheets you quickly turned off the alarm, before laying back with a sigh.

That had to have been one of the most unproductive nights of “sleeping” you’ve had in a while.

You just couldn’t stop thinking about Bokuto and all his gifts and everything he told you yesterday— you were losing your mind.

It was funny too, back when you were a teenager you would’ve jumped head first into a relationship with an Alpha that so proudly declared his feelings for you. You wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

But you weren’t that young Beta anymore.

You’ve chosen to put your career before a relationship, so mixing the two was always out of the question.

On top of that, and more glaringly… you were a Beta. 

You two weren’t and would never be compatible biologically, hell, you hadn’t even noticed he was courting you for nine months.

But at the same time Bokuto was so sickeningly sweet and kind. Anybody would be lucky to have him as a mate.

You grabbed the pillow next to you, placed it over your head and screamed, spooking Mochi in the process.

You then pulled yourself out of your bed to start your day.

Standing in front of your closet, you had a conundrum. You had a few phone calls to make today but for the most part your plan was to watch practice.

On the one hand you could wear your tracksuit and spend the majority of your day in the gym like you planned or, you could wear a pantsuit and hide all day in your office like a little bitch just so you didn’t have to embarrass yourself in front of the team and Bokuto.

You knew yourself too well. Any professional facade you were able to maintain will be immediately crumbling upon talking or even seeing Bokuto for the forseeable future.

You grabbed your pantsuit.

It’s official, today would be the first you were shirking out on responsibility.

When you had opened your door after changing, you were immediately tackled to the ground.

”Amiiii,” you whined, “You’re gonna give me a concussion one day,” you glared at her grinning face above you.

”Soooo,” she dragged out.

”Whaaat?” You asked, mimicking her tone uneasily.

”Are you gonna go out with Bokuto!? Duh!?”

”I don’t know,” you huffed, “It’s all very confusing and we have a game tomorrow, I can’t get distracted right now!”

”I thought we talked about this last night!? Excuses!”

”Yeah, well, when the excuse is literally not even a day away then I’ll take that advice. Now off,” you wriggled beneath her.

”Booo,” she whined, rolling off, “Why do you make things so difficult.”

”I’ll stop making things difficult when life’s not difficult,” you stood up. “Now let me finish getting ready.”

You moved about your apartment as you readied yourself for the day, following your routine as always until you eventually found yourself at the doors to the gym.

Fuck— you don’t remember ever being this nervous going to work… not even on your first day.

You peaked through the windows of the doors. Some of the players were out stretching already but no sign of Bokuto.

Perfect.

You’d be in and out. You’d wave to the players, say good morning to coach and tell him you’ll be in your office all day, and you’ll be out.

A lump formed in your throat knowing you were about to lie to him.

But it was time to quit stalling, waiting any longer out here meant giving more time for Bokuto to finish getting ready in the locker room and coming out.

You braced yourself, walking into the gym. You waved to the players like you did every morning and walked straight to Samson.

”Morning coach.”

”Good morning Miss Manager,” he greeted, “Another day in the office huh?”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “Yeah, I’ll try to stop by and watch practice later but I’m swamped today.”

He nodded in understanding, “No worries if you can’t though. It seems everyone’s busy with tomorrow’s match.”

”Right, well I’ll let you get to it, call me if you need anything.”

”Same goes for you.” 

You nodded, turning to walk away.

Alright. Okay. Everything was fine. 

You managed to lie straight through your teeth without any suspicion. And still no sign of Bokuto.

A sigh of relief escaped your parted lips as your hands came into contact with the cool metal of the door handle.

”BETA-CHANNN!!!”

Your heart plummeted.

As expected, a second later you were being swept off your feet and cradled in two very large arms.

And shit— it actually felt nice this time.

Your brain felt like mush all of a sudden.

”Did you like the mille fuille?” He asked excitedly.

“I-I did,” you stammered— was it always hot in here? Did you need to find a repair man for the a/c too? “It was very yummy.”

Yummy? What the fuck were you saying?

Bokuto cheered excitedly, “I made you something else today too, but I’ll give it to you later. Ami told me you don’t like public attention,” he ‘whispered’.

Speaking of which… your eyes glided over the gym full of Alphas all staring at you both.

”The knee pads fit nicely too,” you murmured shyly.

Why the fuck did you say that?

You literally opened your mouth to tell him to let go of you but instead that fucking word vomit came out.

”Bokuto-san, put her down and start stretching,” Samson suddenly shouted.

Oh God.

”Okay!” He answered before placing you down gently to your feet. “I’ll see you later Beta-Chan.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, and nearly stumbled out of the gym. 

Bokuto ran into the gym giddily, joining Atsumu, Hinata, and Sakusa in their stretches.

Bokuto grinned, humming to himself as all three men stared at him in shock.

”Ami really is Kamisama,” Atsumu said in complete shock.

”What the fuck just happened?” Sakusa deadpanned, complete and utter disbelief dripping from every word.

”That was the first time she didn’t tell you to put her down!” Hinata added, clapping Bokuto on the back.

”Ya know I’ve been tellin’ ya from the start to just fuckin’ ask her out, but nooo. A little Omega comes along and tells ya to do it once and he does it. That’s ’Mega privilege right there.”

”Oh let’s not get started on Omega privilege,” Inunaki groaned, tired of Atsumu’s rants on said topic.

“He’s not even listening,” Sakusa said, watching as Bokuto continued to hum in his own little world.

* * * *

You were sitting underneath your desk.

Why?

You had no fucking clue as to why, all you knew was that you needed to be in a small space or the world was going to end.

Well perhaps that was a tad too dramatic but sitting under here did make you feel a little more sane even if the optics showed otherwise.

You just couldn’t stop thinking about the coach having to tell Bokuto to put you down.

You had been held in his arms long enough for the coach to see you weren’t doing anything about it and having to tell him to put you down himself.

You were going to get fired at this rate.

You haven’t even agreed to anything yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

You wish you had work. You wish you had anything else to do in your office other than sitting underneath your desk.

He was going to come by here and give you more presents today. 

He said he was going to ask you out again.

What were you going to say.

If you’re already acting like a lovesick idiot how the fuck are you going to continue to be professional in the workplace.

There was that and then there was also… Ushiwaka.

You cursed.

Maybe you wouldn’t be so freaked out about dating Bokuto if he hadn’t gotten in your head all those years ago. 

Alphas and Betas are not compatible.

That’s what he had told you after you asked him out.

And yeah, of course you knew that. You were pretty sure the percent of Alpha/Beta relationships being successful was only like 1.2%. Even then those alphas in those successful relationship had higher omega hormone levels than an Alpha such as Bokuto would have.

Which was why it was even a miracle in and of itself that Bokuto was even interested in you at all.

But that fact wasn’t what deterred you from pursuing Alphas, it never was. 

What did deter you was the rest of what he had said.

You sighed sadly.

You weren’t cut out for this. Of course you wouldn’t be able to give Bokuto what he needs, which is a perfect little omega that he can dote on and take care of. Someone that needed that protection only a strong Alpha such as him could provide.

You couldn’t scent him. You knew he could scent you but that was always an intensely intimate act between two mates and… you can’t do your part. He’d be missing out on a bonding ritual that you knew strong Alphas like him, especially ones who ran purely on instinct, needed.

And as embarrassing as it was, it was also an undeniable reality. What the fuck could you do to help him when he starts to rut.

You already knew the conditions these Alphas worked under. Their off season was hellish.

Taking them off their rut suppressants made for violent and dangerous ruts that even some of their own Omegas told you that they couldn’t help them through it to the end.

You heard Atsumu had to replace every piece of furniture in his bedroom.

You heard Hinata broke down his door when he could smell his Omega neighbor go into heat due to his own rut.

You really weren’t cut out for this.

Maybe if he wasn’t as strong as he was, maybe if he was a lesser Alpha, it’d be different.

But he wasn’t. He, along with the rest of the players, were the top of the pecking order. He went anywhere and other Alphas were submitting to him, recognizing him as the Alpha.

That’s just the way it fucking was.

You didn’t wait for him to come during lunch break. 

You needed more time, this invisible pressure weighed on you like a ton of bricks. You thrived off of having deadlines and schedules, and the fact that you didn’t have a deadline when it came to giving Bokuto your answer was deeply fucking with you.

He’d probably ask you out until he got a straight answer from you for another nine months and that just felt so evil to do— to make such a pure hearted Alpha wait like that all because of this fucking inferiority complex you had. 

You decided to eat out instead when you knew coach would be calling a lunch break. Just a few more hours to think and you’d give him an answer, a real answer so he wouldn’t be wasting his time courting you anymore.

But you already had a feeling you knew what you were going to tell him.

There was a cute little café you went to on occasion. It reminded you of a café back home you used to go to after being rejected and wanting to be alone to wallow in your own self pity.

You just never thought you’d ever go there before contemplating whether or not you’d reject a perfectly suitable and sweet Alpha.

You were grateful for the familiarity of solitude as you sat inside, staring out the window and watching all the passerby’s on the sidewalks… most of which being happy couples, you noted bitterly. 

You had been by yourself like this for so long. You don’t even know what kind of person you’d be in a relationship. 

You couldn’t do it.

Bokuto deserved better.

By the time you finished lunch and made it back to the gym the boys were already hard at work again.

And speaking of work, you had some of your own to actually get to now.

You made the few phone calls you had penned down in your ‘To Do’, gathering details for tomorrow’s match and finalizing the plans.

By the time you were finished it was time to go home.

Packing your bags, there was an eager knock at your door.

You knew who it was.

You sighed, “Come in!”

”Beta-chan!” Bokuto exclaimed, throwing your door open.

He was in such a good mood you finally noticed how dramatically your own mood changed from the flustered, bashful Beta you were this morning.

”Hi Bokuto-san,” you gave him an uneasy smile, trying not to give away how unstable you had felt all day.

”You weren’t in your office for lunch.” He said, coming up to your desk as you packed up your bag.

”Yeah, I… kinda forgot to pack one today,” you lied, your bento was still full, “So I went out for lunch.”

”Oh,” he frowned, “I would have given you mine— I can go back to making bentos for you everyday!” He lit up suddenly at the prospect of caring for you in a way Alphas typically cared for their Omegas.

“No, no, that’s alright,” your voice sounded strained. “Thank you though.”

”I brought the gifts,” Bokuto then said, rifling through his duffle bag. “Here!” He found what he was looking for and gave it to you.

”Dangos?” You bit back a smile, heart fluttering.

”Yeah! And this!” He handed you a box.

Your jaw fell to the floor. It was a rare figure from one of your favorite anime, you looked up to him and stammered, “H-How—“ your stomach dropped.

”Kenma helped me!”

You looked back down to the box and then to the dangos.

”I,” God your heart was fucking pounding, “I can’t accept these,” you murmured, “I’m sorry.”

”But I brought those for you,” he suddenly seemed to deflate, “I want you to have them and I want to ask you out on a date again.”

”But that’s,” you groaned, slumping in your seat, “I can’t date you Bokuto-san.” You stared hard into the floor— you felt like such a fucking bitch, you couldn’t even look at the man that had been pursuing you for nine months while you rejected him.

”Wait— but why,” he pressed both hands against the top of your desk, leaning over it, “You don’t like the gifts?” He asked sadly. “I can get better one’s— I can make you something else—“

“Oh Koutarou,” you murmured sadly.

Bokuto became stiff, all too aware that that was the first time you had ever called him by his first name, without an honorific no less.

“You’re so sweet. You’ve always been so sweet and kind towards me and I want to say yes to you— I want to say yes so bad—“

”Then say yes!” He insisted, lighting up again, “I already have it planned out. There’s that new rom-com coming out on Valentine’s Day that we can go see. Then I’ll take you to a bakery— we can have cake for dinner! Then I’d walk you back home and kiss you at the doorstep just like in the movies— hey, why are you crying?” He lost the boyish excitement in his voice.

He ran around your desk and kneeled in front of you, grabbing both armrests on either side of you. You wiped at your tears furiously, “I’m sorry,” you tried to laugh through the tears, “‘m just emotional I guess.”

It was kind of silly. A few days ago you never even considered that dating Bokuto Koutarou was a possibility, and now here you were, crying over him.

“You’re such a sweetheart Koutarou and I am so sorry for not realizing you liked me sooner. I would have never let it drag on for that long if I had known.”

God, he was just staring at you with these big puppy eyes that just stabbed your heart. 

“Because-Because you like me back?” He sounded so hopeful.

”Because I think this part would have hurt less. I’m not—We’re not compatible,” you said, staring into those puppy eyes, “I can’t give you what you need. You’re such a strong Alpha Koutarou, you need an Omega that’ll know how to take care of you the only way an Omega knows how to. I can’t do that as a Beta.”

”But… I don’t care about things like that. It’s never bothered me that you’re a Beta, I can still be a good Alpha to you— we can figure out how to make it work,” he replied sadly, hand inching towards your own on the armrest. “Does this have to do with Ushiwaka. Ami told us he said something to you back then. She said you stopped pursuing a relationship after his rejection.”

You sighed, of course she told him.

”Yes,” you admitted, “He said some things that at the time really hurt but I think… he was right.”

”How can he be right when what he said is making you so sad.”

You sniffled again, wrapping your arms around Bokuto in a hug, to which he followed suit. You figured professionalism was out the door the moment he asked you out yesterday. “Thank you Koutarou. If… If I was an Omega or even if we met a few years earlier I wouldn’t have even hesitated going out with you. But I just can’t.” 

It hurt knowing that the first man that was offering something you’ve wanted for so long was someone you’d also have to turn down.

”Then I’ll wait until you can.”

“I’m begging you Koutarou, for both our sakes…” you murmured into his shoulder, ”Please don’t.”

You loved love.

”I…” His arms tightened around you, voice dripping in a sadness you hadn’t thought he was even capable of, “Okay, if that’s what you really want then… I’ll stop.”

But it wasn’t meant for you.

————————————————————————

Part 4

Taglist: @staygoldsquatchling02 @tillyt04 @/niiiya @/silverhairsimp

[bluemoonsunrise]

Demons and Savages

pairing: tsu’tey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)

content warnings: graphic language, violence, alien vs human differences, awkward friendship?, tension, angst, vulgarity. (also, i don’t like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)

word count: …idk :D

pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. i’ll use the name sparingly but i can’t take myself seriously writing y/n— so please just work with me here. i promise it’ll be worth it. (i hope)

< previous chapter

———🌌———

SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited you— her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyone— that’s why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.

when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.

the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.

truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtaking— and that’s because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you dead— but none are as dangerous as him.

the blue shadow with the bow.

chapter two

— cowboy —

you should have linked to your avatar body sooner. the morning had nearly passed by the time you opened your eyes and stirred in your hammock. when you rose, he was waiting.

he had been waiting.

for hours.

anger made him look volatile. his tail flicked behind him as he watched you climb out from your hammock. you nearly tripped over your own feet trying to rub the daze of shifting into this larger, still-stiff body from your eyes.

“i’m sorry…” you said as you approached. you dipped your head and signed, ‘i see you’ to him. when his demeanor did not change, you swallowed around the lump in your throat. “really, i’m sorry. i don’t have much control over when i can and can’t be connected to my body.”

tsu’tey flicked his head and you knew to start marching.

he was kind enough to have saved you breakfast. dried fruits and nuts. you picked at them within the pouch he stored them in as you walked through the forest together. you offered him some as an attempt at making peace. to your surprise, he took a handful and poured them into his mouth. it was silent as you walked.

well, not for very long.

you had a bad habit of blabbering when tension arose— and you could feel the negativity radiating off him like the old story of chernobyl you knew about.

“how long have you been up for?” you asked, shooting a glance his way.

tsu’tey popped more pieces of dried fruit into his mouth and grunted. “sunrise.”

guilt made your stomach hurt.

“i really am sorry. i hope you understand that there is a strict schedule i follow. if i don’t, i risk killing myself. water? food? sleep? it’s all stuff my real body needs, too.” you said.

“i am not angry you are late, skxawng. i care not for what you do. im angry my day revolves around you. why i must be the one to teach you is not something i am happy with. i have other tasks i would rather see to. hunting. training warriors who are soon to pass their iknimaya.” tsu’tey said gruffly, not bothering to look at you.

your expression soured and you scowled at him. “you can teach me to be a warrior, too.”

“ha,” tsu’tey laughed. a real laugh. it lit up his face and made his ears perk up. he looked at you and shook his head. “you really are a skxawng.”

“eywa may have given me a sign not to shoot you down with my bow but it changes nothing. i see what you truly are, demon, even with all your practiced knowledge.”

“you are not real.”

you could only stare at him. your throat went dry. your heart shuddered in your chest. your voice was no where to be found— but what could ever be said to that?

nothing. because he was right.

“then why bother with all this?”

tsu’tey turned, stopping dead in his tracks. his tail flicked. “what?”

“why did you save me from the nantang?” you asked outright. you swallowed the fruit you had in your mouth with trouble and tried to keep your chin up. “if you know what i am, why bother saving me? you could’ve let me get torn apart. it wouldn’t have been you who killed me. no blame on you. why did you save me?”

tsu’tey let his shoulders drop. when he met your eyes, he looked at you. into you.

“eywa did not want you dead,” he said. his voice was too soft. he sounded like an entirely different person. a hopeless believer. “the atokirina landed on my arrowhead before it floated down to you. it kept me from firing that shot. it was a sign. you were to live.”

“when it floated around you, i knew what the great mother expected of me when the nantang attacked you.” tsu’tey said as he approached.

you stiffened as he stood in front of you. you had to tilt your head back to see him clearly. “and what…what is it that she expected?”

you winced when he grabbed your hand even though it didn’t hurt. not in the slightest. he touched your extra finger. he fought a scowl, his face twitching. he looked into your eyes and — for a second time — he was staring into you.

“i am to protect you…” tsu’tey muttered. he almost rolled his eyes as a heavy sigh escaped him. “it has been decided by eywa and by the tsahik. eywa is greater than my feelings. the great mother is greater than our differences. demon or not, you have been chosen for something and it is my job to make sure you don’t kill yourself, skxawng.”

“i— i’ve been chosen for something? what?” you asked, grasping his hand. you needed answers. you needed to know all that he knew.

tsu’tey pulled his hand from yours and shook it at his side as if it burned. his scowl returned with vengeance. it twisted his face in a way that was all too familiar. you almost preferred his scowl. you expected his harshness. you had no idea what to make of his gentler voice and softened features.

“i do not know.” tsu’tey said. his voice was tight in his throat. his tail flicked behind him. “i am not capable of interpreting eywa’s will. i am only a warrior.”

“and i can make you one, too, if that is what you wish to be.”

you looked up at him. your ears and tail betrayed you. your tail wouldn’t stay still and your ears stood at attention. excitement tickled your belly.

“really?” you asked, almost bracing yourself for a sudden change in his heart.

tsu’tey grunted and looked away. “it serves as a better use of my time teach you how to fight and hunt rather than help you string beads and teach you how to sing.”

“and if i choose to be a singer?” you asked, raising one of your eyebrows.

“then there are many songs for you to learn, demon,” tsu’tey said with a shake of his head. “but you will learn to ride pa’li. that is essential.”

if he hadn’t tried it so intently then maybe you would’ve missed it. perhaps more subconsciously to him, he tried to raise only one of his hairless eyebrows. it had you biting your lip as to not smile.

you nodded once, placing your hands on your hips. “let’s get started then.”

he took you to the riverbank. the sun was warm. insects buzzed by your head and skimmed across the surface of the water. fish leapt out from the river to catch them. direhorses ate the sweet vegetation that grew by the waterside.

“damn,” you whispered as tsu’tey guided one of the massive direhorses towards you. you took a step back as it stomped one of its feet when he tugged it to halt. “no saddle?”

“you have legs.” he said with a glance towards your thighs. “you will use them to hold on.”

“i don’t know if you know this, buddy, but this body has only ever been in use like four times now. i’m going to fall off.” you said.

“then you get back on.” tsu’tey said with a single flick of his head toward the direhorse.

you swallowed a bit of your pride as he grunted for you to get a move on. you had to raise your arm up high to reach its back. the leather of its skin was tough. it was a tall, powerful creature you knew would buck you off within a second.

“now, demon.” tsu’tey hissed.

“alright, alright…” you cringed a bit and tried your best to steel your spine. with you best foot forward, you tried to swing yourself up.

“bad try.” tsu’tey shook his head and nudged you out of the way. “watch how i do.”

he wrapped his arm around the tendril that hung down by the direhorses neck. with a quickness you wouldn’t be able to replicate anytime soon, he swung himself up onto the direhorses back.

you rolled your eyes. “you should’ve told me to grab that from the beginning.”

“again.” tsu’tey said as he slid down off the direhorses back. he ignored your comment. “this time, do like i did.”

you exhaled a sharp, fast breath. annoyance pinned your ears back. reaching up, you hooked an arm around one of the tendrils just as he had. with all the strength you could, you tried to pull yourself up.

that just pissed off the direhorse and it stomped it’s feet, huffing and snorting.

“you need to swing.” tsu’tey said. he tapped his stomach. “strong belly and swing your legs up. do not use your arms to pull until your belly is tight and you’ve swung your legs.”

“watch.” he nudged you out of the way.

this time, you really watched his form. you watched the way he grasped the tether as a stationary point but swung himself up. he had taken two steps to build momentum. two steps, swing up, mount.

easy enough, yeah?

“momentum. momentum.” you muttered yourself as you grasped the direhorses tether again.

you took a breath and felt it. your core tightened as you geared up to take those steps and swing yourself up. step, step, swing— except you choked. when your leg didn’t quite get up over the side, you bailed entirely and nearly fell flat on your face.

he grabbed your arm and kept you steady.

your ears fell flat as you met his eyes. you could see the scowl threaten to curl on his lips. you braced yourself for harsh words and hisses.

“better.” he said.

your ears perked up.

“swinging yourself with great force is the only way to mount pa’li. you must take larger steps to make that swing.” tsu’tey said.

you nodded. “yeah, i need more momentum.”

“momen…what?” he narrowed his eyes and titled his head.

“momentum,” you said again, clearer this time. you demonstrated the swing you needed to do with your hands. “momentum. the swing. you get it?”

“momentum.” tsu’tey said, watching your lips as your mouth formed the word. his accent was so thick it seemed to get in the way of his tongue. “yes, it is that. you just make more momentum.”

“but how? i mean, i tried doing the same amount of steps as you but it’s the height that’s throwing me off.” you said, looking up at the direhorse.

“pa’li is tall but you are tall, too. try to step, jump, swing.” tsu’tey said. he crossed his arms against his chest and watched.

you shook out the tension in your shoulders. step, jump, swing. his brows pinched together as he watched you take a few steps back. you gave yourself a running start and jumped, pushing yourself up with your arms.

his hands curled around your waist and he pulled you off before you could swing yourself on.

“hey!” you exclaimed, struggling in his grasp.

“wrong.” he placed you down and turned you toward him. “in order to ride, you must make tsaheylu. a bond. in order to make that bond, you must hold the tether. first step, you must hold the tether.”

“jumping on pa’li like that is a waste of time. it is not faster. bad habit. break it. do not do it again.” he instructed.

“alright, alright…” you said softly, holding up your hands.

“strong belly, demon.” he reminded you.

“yeah, i got it. thanks.”

you huffed under your breath as you wrapped your arm around the tether. standing back nearer towards its face, you would be able to run and swing yourself up— and that’s exactly what you tried to do. you ran, kept your core tight, swung your leg up, and mounted the direhorse.

“hey!” you gasped, pupils blown wide as you look down at him. “i did it!”

he was fighting a grin whilst stood at your side. patting the direhorses neck, he kept the beast calm. he looked up at you and nodded once. you could see in his eyes what he did not say.

well done, demon.

“again.” tsu’tey said, pulling you off the direhorse.

“woah!” you hooked your arms around his neck and fell into his arms. as he set you on your feet, you looked up at him. “you are so handsy.”

“i don’t know what that means.” he said as he let you go. his lip curled and he stared down his nose at you.

he thought you were insulting him.

“handsy. y’know, touchy.” you said. for show, you glided your hand along his chest and gripped his bicep in the other. “you touch me a lot.”

tsu’tey huffed and nudged your hands away. “if i don’t touch, you will hurt yourself. i’m making sure you do not injure yourself, skxawng.”

“skxawng. you keep calling me that. what does it mean?” you asked with annoyance lacing your voice. judging by the way he called you demon, you knew it couldn’t be good.

“means you are slow.” tsu’tey said. he flicked your forehead. “in here, you are slow.”

your eyes widened and your mouth popped open. “you’re calling me a moron!”

tsu’tey bared his teeth in a sharp smile. “you act like one.”

“you are such a jackass.” you huffed under your breath.

ignoring the way he chuckled, you once again tried to mount the direhorse. you didn’t keep your core tight enough. you stumble and it bumped you with its hip. the poor thing must’ve been annoyed with you by this point. you were annoyed with yourself— annoyed with him most of all.

on the second try, you swung yourself up onto the direhorses back. tsu’tey came to your side. he nodded at you as you met his eyes. you’d gotten the hang of it. with more practice you’d be able to do it with ease.

“now it is time for you to make tsaheylu.” he said.

tsaheylu. the bond. you knew of it. you’d read about it in grace augustine’s book before they shipped you out to pandora. it was how all living things on pandora connected to one and other. it is how all living things connected to eywa.

“take your kuru and make tsaheylu.” tsu’tey said, guiding the direhorses tether up toward you.

you reached behind your head and pulled your braid over your shoulder. queue. kuru. so many names for it. but there was only one name for the bond you were about to make.

the white spindles twisted and extended at the end of your braid. so did the direhorses at the end of its tether-like queue. as you guided your kuru forward, pinkish-white spindles linked and overlapped as you made tsaheylu.

your pupils blew and your body went rigid. you could hear mighty breath and a strong beating heart. you could feel legs that were not your own.

tsu’tey placed his hand on your thigh. you looked down at him, unaware that you were panting. he nodded once. calm. collected.

“breathe,” tsu’tey said lowly. he ran his hand across your thigh, up your waist, to your belly. “deep. slow. feel her breath and match it.”

you closed your eyes and focused on the way the direhorse inhaled and exhaled. it was much harder to do when his hand was on your belly.

his hand was warm…

in and out.

you focused on that and that alone.

breathing in deep and letting it all out.

“feel her strong legs.” tsu’tey said.

those you could feel without having to try. as she stepped back and forth, you could feel the power within them. fast. faster than horses on earth ever could’ve been. this direhorse had more legs than them. a larger set of lungs. a larger heart.

“when you are ready, think ‘run.’” tsu’tey said as he stepped back.

“run?” you repeated.

the direhorse ran— and you fell straight into the mud.

a soft groan escaped you. the whole left side of your face was mud caked. his shadow blocked out the sun and you heard him sigh.

“a mistake every first rider makes.” tsu’tey said as you pushed yourself up. “you will try again. this time, you will hold on.”

“thanks for the advice.” you huffed, hitting him with your muddy shoulder as you walked by.

mounting the direhorse became easier each time you did it— and you did it over and over again because you could not stay on the creatures back for long. you fell into the mud each and every time you willed the direhorse to run.

tsu’tey brought you to the riverbed not only because it is where the direhorses liked to graze but because the mud cushioned your falls.

“you are not holding on.” tsu’tey said as he pulled you up from the mud.

“i am!” you exclaimed. your frustration was reaching its boiling point and you pulled your arm from his grasp. “how much tighter do i have to grip the damn tethers it has?”

“you are not holding on here.” tsu’tey said, smacking your thigh.

you scowled at him and swatted at his hand. “don’t.”

“you must squeeze your legs, skxawng.” tsu’tey said with a shake of his head. “you cannot stay in place on the back of pa’li if you do not squeeze your thighs.”

“fine. fine.” you huffed and turned away. “i get it. tight core. squeeze my legs.”

“try.”

you looked back at him as he grabbed your waist. your eyes widened as he tugged you towards him. your jaw dropped as he wedged his leg in between your thighs.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” you cursed at him, pushing your arm into his chest.

“squeeze.” tsu’tey commanded.

you laughed in his face. “oh, you’re funny.”

“do as i say, skxawng.”

you had to grit your teeth. chest to chest with him, you had little options. everything he had instructed you to do so far and every correction he made had not led you astray. it bruised your pride to do as you were told.

you squeezed your thighs together, squishing his thigh between your legs. you looked anywhere but at him. he did the same as his hands framed your waist. he rocked his leg from side to side.

“pa’li are fast and they are strong. you must be strong, too, to ride. your legs will tire but falling hurts more.” tsu’tey said softly. he looked down between you both. “you must squeeze harder. i am able to move my leg back and forth without you. squeeze until you are moving as i move.”

looking down, you squeezed your thighs together tighter. you had to grit your teeth. as he moved his leg side to side, yours were glued to him. squeezing his thigh, you moved as he moved. when he dipped to the left, you had no choice but to follow. when he tried to move his thigh upward, the tension in your legs gave the right amount of resistance so that he could not throw you off.

“do you see now?” tsu’tey asked as he met your eyes. he tried to buck his thigh again and could not. not with you squeezing him so tight. “tsaheylu makes you one with pa’li in the mind. you must make yourself one with pa’li like this. strong core. strong legs. strong hips.”

“i get it,” you said softly, ignoring the burn in your face and the tickle in your belly that came with being so close to him.

tsu’tey tapped your thigh and you let him go. he took a step back and flicked his head. “try again. don’t fall this time, demon.”

you dipped your head.

mounting the direhorse, you were quick to make the bond. feel her breath. feel her heart. feel her legs. you wrapped the tethers around your arms and kept a firm grip. at the same time, you squeezed your legs tight around the direhorses sides.

“run,” you thought.

and the direhorse heard you.

with legs that sounded like thunder as they hit the ground, the direhorse ran. you kept your grip tight and your thighs clenched even tighter. gritting your teeth, you held on as the wind whipped across your face. the direhorse ran a lap around the riverbed as it had been trained to do— and you only fell off at the end when you simply could not hold on any longer.

you spit out the mud that had gotten in your mouth. pushing yourself up, you saw him grinning. a soft sigh escaped you. such sweet relief it was to see something other than a scowl after giving it the best shot you had all day.

“we are finished for today.” tsu’tey said as you neared. he picked a twig out of your hair. “you did better than i thought you would. tomorrow it will be easier. clean yourself up in the river.”

the cold river water embraced you like a lover and soothed the ache in your muscles. it washed away the mud caked onto your skin and the sweat that beaded on your hairline and dripped down your back.

you could feel his gaze linger on you as you washed.

and you ignored the way it made you feel.

— 🌌 —

the next day was by no means easier.

nor way the day after that.

or the day after that.

bruises made your blue skin purple. they littered your thighs. your arms. your back. you took the falls like a champ when they happened, but crawling in and out of your hammock each day could not be done without a groan.

until it did get easier.

you could mount your direhorse with ease. mitsia was her name. each time you made tsaheylu, the more your bond deepened. she grew accustomed to you. she did not jostle as much. she did not run so recklessly. she would greet you each morning with a bump of her nose.

you could ride longer and longer each day— and one day you stopped falling all together. leaving the riverbank behind, you rode with tsu’tey through the forest. learning to hold on as mitsia leapt over fallen logs was not as difficult as you imagined it would be. keeping your core tight and your legs secure, you moved as she moved. it became second nature.

it became second nature, too, to compete with tsu’tey as you mastered the art of riding.

“c’mon, cowboy! you’re eating my dust!” you laughed over your shoulder as the two of you raced back to home tree.

he smirked.

racing through the forest, you stole glances at each other as the direhorses below you ran. mitsia and karuk — tsu’tey’s pa’li — had grown accustomed to each other, too. like their riders, they competed to get home first. mitsia’s heart pounded and her breath came hard as fast as she tried to out run karuk.

the male direhorse was older and his legs were longer. when tsu’tey crouched and tucked himself downward to be more aerodynamic, the race was already won.

“i will beat you tomorrow, jackass.” you said as you swung yourself off mitsia. you gave her a gentle pat before joining beside tsu’tey.

“no, not tomorrow. we are finished training with pa’li. you have mastered riding.” tsu’tey said with a glance your way. as you walked inside home tree, the smell of pandoran barbecue made your stomach grumble.

“what’s next then?” you asked.

“you have yet to decide if being a hunter is what you want. tomorrow, you rest and decide.” tsu’tey said.

you watched as he departed. instead of heading up the center column, he made his way towards the olo’eyktan. he bowed his head and signed ‘i see you’ before sitting down beside him. you knew what they were discussing. each day, tsu’tey gave a report about how you were fairing to the olo’eyktan.

you cleaned yourself up before dinner. re-doing some of the braids in your hair, you thought about what tsu’tey had said.

you had yet to decide on what you truly want to be.

you knew you didn’t want to be a singer. you didn’t have the confidence it took to preform. you enjoyed riding and you enjoyed being in the forest, but you didn’t know if you had what it took to be a powerful hunter.

on earth, you hadn’t done more than wait on costumers and clean up messes that they left behind. hunters didn’t scrape gum off the undersides of tables or have to clean matted grease off deep fryers. they were masters with a bow and quick with a knife.

each day that you went to bed and woke up back in the link-pod, you felt less and less uncertain.

uncertain about what you wanted.

uncertain about who you were.

surrounded by scientists, you were not as smart as them. you could help grace log her findings but you couldn’t offer anything more than clicking buttons on the computer. you weren’t fluent in navi like norm. you weren’t as physically capable as jake was when he was in his avatar body.

jake was military.

norm was a scholar.

grace was a scientist.

you were just the replacement for a dead genius.

a blank slate.

that thought stuck with you like a nagging itch as you climbed the center column of home tree and made your way to your usual eating spot. the more you tried to ignore it, the worse it became.

you were a blank slate in a world ripe with opportunity and that had to mean something.

you had few skills.

that meant you could learn hundreds of new ones.

you had poor navi.

that gave you room to improve with those who spoke it fluently and hadn’t learned it out of a book.

you had no muscle.

that meant you could only grow stronger.

in a program full of bright minds and strong spirits, only one of you sat in home tree— and only one of you had been chosen by eywa.

it had not been grace.

It had not been norm.

it had not been jake.

it had been you. you had a purpose on pandora. a purpose that surpassed what you knew about tree roots or how many pull-ups you could do.

if you wanted to be a hunter— you would learn.

and he would each you how. just like he taught you to ride a direhorse in nine days.

“what is it that you had called me today, demon?” tsu’tey asked as he sat across from you. “when we raced through the forest.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “a cowboy.”

“cowboy…” he picked up a bug from the pile on his leaf and cracked the shell with his teeth. he pulled out the soft meaty inside and ate it. “what does that mean? cowboy.”

“a cowboy is a man who rides a horse and deals with herding animals. they wear hats and boots. on earth, cowboys were seen most in the western part of america.” you said as you picked at the food. you hadn’t gotten used to bugs yet. it was their many, many legs that creeped you out.

when he didn’t respond right away, you looked up. it was clear to see that most — if not all — of what you said had been lost to his ears. again, you smiled.

“on earth, cowboys rode pa’li. they were like hunters, except they kept the animals close together in herds. in a big group that they would move from place to place.” you said, choosing your words more carefully.

“they were also like warriors, too. the word is vigilante. it means that they took the law into their own hands and punished those who broke it.”

“is there no olo’eyktan to answer to?” tsu’tey asked, his invisible brows knitting together.

“no,” you said with a small laugh. carefully, you bit into a bug and chewed. it didn’t taste bad. it was good. smoky in flavor— but the legs still gave you the heebie-jeebies. “on earth, instead of clans there are countries. millions and millions of people live in a single country alone. and there are hundreds of countries.”

“millions of people…” tsu’tey looked around the crowded dinner place and then back at you. “and that is more than navi here in home tree?”

“so many more. unimaginable.” you said with a shake of your head. you popped the shell of another bug and tried to explain it as easy to understand as you could. “let’s use you as an example. you know everyone in your clan, yes?”

“yes.” he nodded.

“right. in a country on earth, you’d never be able to meet every person who lives in that country. there are too many people. it would be like if all the clans from sea to sea across the land we’re on now were one clan.” you tried to explain.

to your delight, he seemed to understand. his eyes were wider than they usually were. he let out a soft breath and shook his head, “and these cowboys…were there a lot of them?”

“in the past, yes. where i lived and in the time i lived, no. there aren’t enough animals on earth for cowboys to be useful. there are no more great plaines, either. no horses to ride. it’s all metal and machines.” you said with a small frown.

“is there no great mother on earth, too?” tsu’tey asked.

you shrugged. “if there was one then she died long before i was born.”

tsu’tey frowned. you could see the sympathy he held for you. his face was so expressive for someone so rough around the edges.

“how did you come here?” tsu’tey asked. the question was careful. it was as if he presented it to you in the palms of his hands and braced himself for rejection.

that was exactly what you gave him.

“i want to be a hunter.” you said outright. you pushed aside your leaf still full of food. you were no longer hungry. as you met his eyes, you nodded once. “i want to be a warrior like you and i want you to teach me.”

tsu’tey sat back. he narrowed his eyes at you and took in the whole of you. his eyes trailed from your head to your crossed legs. the bruises that decorated your body had yet to fade. being a hunter was a lot harder than being a direhorse rider. being a warrior was more dangerous than both.

“tomorrow you shall rest. that is decided. it is needed. the day after, i will teach you how to use a bow.” tsu’tey said.

heat rose to your face and your tail swayed wildly behind you. so wildly that you reached back to grab it. he hadn’t said no. he hadn’t laughed. he hadn’t called you a moron.

he would teach you.

he would mold you into a fierce warrior and a bountiful hunter because no student was better to teach than one who was a blank canvas.

“why do you look like that?” tsu’tey asked with a small scowl.

“huh? uh…” you were quick to let go of your tail. your ears pinned and you looked anywhere but at him. “i don’t know…i think im just surprised that you’re agreeing to let me become what you are. a warrior. a hunter. i figured you would’ve told me to start warming up my singing voice.”

tsu’tey laughed. a low, grunt-like laugh came out of his nose. as he picked apart a green-shelled bug, he smiled. “i told you once before, skxawng. if you want to be a hunter, i will make you a hunter. i don’t like singing. i would dislike you more if you had chosen to sing over shoot a bow.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “right…”

“you learn fast.” tsu’tey said without looking at you, “you are determined, too. you proved me wrong when you got back on mitsia after you kept falling off. i thought you would quit.”

“my only doubt left of you is that your body will give out on you.” he met your eyes and shook his head. “you are not true navi. it will be a very great test of your strength, demon, but if you are willing then i will teach you.”

“i am.” you said with a slow nod of your head. you looked into his eyes and kept your chin up. “i made my choice. i want to learn all that you know.”

tsu’tey seemed to savor your words. more than that, he savored the look in your eyes. he saw into you. he saw your resolve. it was as hard as steel.

on earth, you had been nothing.

on pandora, you would be exceptional.

“it is decided then.” tsu’tey said.

you smiled to yourself. you couldn’t help it. looking above, you took in as much detail of home tree as you could but there was only one picture in your mind.

his face.

over the last nine days, you had done well to keep up with him. so much so that you refused to quit even when you took a particularly bad fall off mitsia. you couldn’t let him know that it hurt. pride kept you stubborn— but the desire to see him proud burned hotter and hotter each time you tried.

tsu’tey was a good teacher. he was handsy and harsh, but he was the only person capable of teaching you. he could handle your stubbornness as well as you could handle his. while he scolded you and smacked you on the back of the head when you would do incredibly stupid and dangerous things, he was quick to congratulate and reward you, too.

not all his edges were rough.

most. but not all.

“here,” tsu’tey said. he tossed you a pouch as you climbed down into your hammock.

“what is this?” you asked.

sitting on your knees, you opened the pouch. dumping it into your hand, a palm-size carving of a direhorses fell out.

it was mitsia.

when you looked up to thank him, he was gone. the flap to his hanging hut closed as he disappeared inside.

you bit back a smile as you laid down in your hammock. holding up the carving, you admired the craftsmanship. for the last three days, you would wake to him sitting on the branch beside your hammock. he had been whittling something. wood chips would be piled beside him. he would be quick to tuck away his work and sheath his knife as you awoke.

in the morning hours you were not here, he carved as he watched you sleep without dreaming.

you kept the carving of your direhorse close to your chest as you laid back. closing you eyes, you wished to dream. in this body, you wanted to dream of thundering hooves and tsutey’s sharp smile.

the whirr of the link-pod greeted you. the hatch opened and the bright, white lights of the lab made your eyes burn. home tree at this hour was dark and quiet. the avatar lab was always busy. pushing yourself out of the pod, you rolled out the stiffness in your shoulders.

“long day again, huh?” norm turned in his chair as you passed by. he was studying slides under one of the microscopes. “what did he have you doing this time?”

“hey, no talking until after she logs.” grace said without bothering to look away from the computer she typed at. “detail the day while it’s fresh in your mind.”

“yeah, yeah…” you mumbled as you made your way over to a chair in the corner.

the blinking red light told you the tiny camera was recording you. that and the fact that you could see your face displayed on the screen as the time ticked by. you gave your name, your badge number, and the date before detailing the events of today. you hated logging. you hated sitting at that desk and recalling everything you’d done.

you hated it because it made you miss him.

the feeling was new to you. it crept up on you like a cold. each hour spent outside of your avatar had you growing sicker and sicker with the feeling.

the feeling of longing that came with wanting to be in home tree. wanting to wake up— really wake up in your hammock. being up early enough to eat breakfast with the clan.

with him.

you liked to argue with him. you could see the slight smile on your lips each time you spoke about him in your video logs. you hated that you smiled— but you couldn’t help it. apart from jake, tsu’tey was the only person you felt you had any kind of rapport with. he could be mean and calloused— but he was also the only person on this giant blue moon who spent any meaningful time with you.

jake kept you company at breakfast and dinner. he played card games with you before bed. he was easy to talk about human life to. you expressed your grief to him— as hard as it was — because he understood. he lost his brother like you had lost your sister. he, too, felt like an imposter in the avatar labs.

the bond you two shared was solid.

he could make you smile. he could make you laugh. he could make you cry. he could make you feel as though you did belong here in the RDA. he was a comforting presence that you hadn’t known you needed after the death of your sister had left a hole in your heart.

jake didn’t fill the hole— but he did a damn good job of making it hurt less.

tsu’tey was not your friend.

unlike jake, tsu’tey refused to be labeled as such— and yet he acted like one. he was a strict teacher. that much could not be denied. he worked you to the point of bruises…but at the same time, he consoled every hurt. he checked every bump. he tended to every scratch.

he may not have known you like jake knew you, but he spent the most time with you. he spent hours and hours alongside you. his days started and ended with you. teaching you. correcting you. yelling at you. bickering with you. teasing you. smiling at you.

jake knew your story.

he knew your heartache.

he knew your fears.

tsu’tey knew your hopes.

he knew your strength.

he knew your hunger for life.

in so many ways you couldn’t quite put into words, tsu’tey was the only one to know you. what you were. what you were capable of. what drove you. what focused you. what lit a fire under your ass. what strength you had in your heart.

on earth, you had been nothing. just another person on a dying planet. you had no plans because there were no plans to have. you had no money. not enough to be comfortable. not enough to find happiness. you had no family. sickness and poverty had withered them all away. with the death of your sister, you may as well have died, too.

on pandora, you had the chance to be anything you wanted to be. a warrior. a hunter. a singer. a scientist. a gardener. a solider. there were so many things you could be— yet you hardly knew who you were.

each day you got into that link-pod, it was a constant battle of which one was real.

which you was real?

you knew the version of you that could no longer exist. the girl from earth had died when her sister passed— and whoever emerged from the smog keeping you wilted was new. she was a stranger to everyone around her.

including you.

which is why you chose to be strong. if you could be anything on pandora, you would be strong. you would be brave. you would be kind.

who you chose to be was a mirror of the first person to look into your eyes and see you.

tsu’tey knew you better than anyone in this lab ever could because he watched you find yourself more and more within the forests of pandora.

you liked the sun. it felt good on your skin. you liked to swim in the river. it felt good to be weightless. you liked to ride and you liked to run. you liked to laugh. you liked to learn. you liked to try and try again when you failed.

while the avatar drivers you had been separated from on your first ground excursion worked on understanding the forest around them on a cellular, scientific level— you worked on understanding the forest on a personal level.

you scraped your knees on the forest floor. you climbed the towering trees. you formed tsaheylu with pa’li. you had been blessed by the atokirina.

grace saw the forest through the lens of a microscope while you saw the forest through his eyes.

“tsu’tey told me as we rode today that all energy is only borrowed. it is through that energy gifted by eywa that we are blessed to live long, fulfilling lives. when we die, we return that energy to her.” you said, rubbing your hand along your jaw. “i wonder if that applies to us demons…”

you smiled at the camera. “well, that’s about all. the same old same old. horses and riding. riding and horses. tsu’tey said that tomorrow is my rest day. i wonder what kind of trouble i’ll get myself into on a day like that.”

when the red light turned off, you sighed. rubbing your face, all you wanted was to go to bed but you couldn’t. you needed to eat and drink something. even though you had such recent memories of eating dinner in home tree that tricked your mind into thinking you were full— your stomach growled and gnawed at itself.

“hey, hot-shot.” you said as you sat down in the mess hall beside jake. he was already halfway done with his dinner.

“hey there, forest girl.” jake said with a grin. “you’re back pretty late again. get thrown off your horse at all today?”

“nah. i’ve got that horse-riding shit on lock down.” you said as you took a bite of your dinner. the food tasted weird. it always did. you tried your best to ignore it. “how was your day?”

“boring. all i do is stand around while grace and norm scurry around the woods together and put dirt into jars. i dunno how tommy found any of this shit interesting. i mean, pandora is awesome but the science work i see grace and norm do is like watching paint dry.” jake said with a sigh.

you laughed and frowned at him. “i wish you could come to home tree and spend a day with me and tsu’tey. i don’t think he’d like you very much, but at least it would be something for you to do. it would be like basic training but navi style.”

“i wish i could, too. im jealous that you get to spend your days running around in the woods while im stuck with the know-it-all’s. but i live vicariously through you in your stories.”

“is it fun?” jake asked. he smiled. “yknow, riding those big ass horses?”

you smiled, too. “so much fun. you’d love it. you’d be good at it. i bet you’d master it faster than me.”

jake offered to stay with you while you finished your dinner even though he’d finished first. you enjoyed his company. sitting together, you talked mindlessly about hobbies the two of you had. on earth, jake had liked to go to bars and gamble while you had liked to come home from work and rot in front of the tv. no matter what was on, you would watch it. any show. any movie. it didn’t matter what it was because all it was was an escape from the shithole you lived in and the dying world outside your window.

“excuse me, miss ramsey?”

you looked over your shoulder as your name was called. a solider dressed in camo stood with his arms behind his back.

“yeah?” you asked, raising one of your eyebrows.

“if you could follow me please, colonel quaritch wants to speak with you.”

you met jake’s eyes in time to see his brows raise. with a small flick of his head, he silently told you to get going. you got up form where you were sitting, cleared away your mess, and followed behind the solider. as you walked, you saw the corporal insignia on his uniform.

“in here.” the corporal said, pushing open a set of double doors. “sit tight. he’ll be here shortly.”

the doors shut with an eery silence as the corporal left you alone. you’d been in this room once before. on your first day at hell’s gate, you’d been brought here and given a briefing. the lights were off. only moonlight spilled in through the massive windows. slowly, you took a seat on one of the cold metal chair.

minutes ticked by in silence.

it was so silent that it was deafening. it was the kind of quiet that was loud. you could hear every little sound. your breath. muffled footsteps from the floor above. faint grumbling from machines outside.

you knew what this was.

you had seen enough old detective movies to know that you were put in a room by yourself to induce worry. worry led to overthinking. overthinking led to over-talking. over-talking made it hard to lie.

the doors swinging open made you jump.

“sorry to make you wait,” colonel miles quaritch said as he strode into the room. “the dangers on this god forsaken planet never seem to cease.”

you nodded as he approached. he turned a chair around and sat backwards on it beside you. he smelled of gun powder and alcohol. it burned your nose. the scar on his face had made you uneasy from the moment you saw him for the first time. you wonder what did it. nantang? palulukan? something worse?

“i read your file, miss ramsey.” the colonel said as he folded his hands against the back of his chair. “im sorry to hear about your sister’s passing.”

“thank you.” you said softly. too softly.

“what luck the avatar program has in seeming to recruit scientists who have twins, huh? you and corporal sully are two miracles for this place. without you two, the RDA would’ve lost more billions than they could afford to make back.”

unsure of what to say, you tried your best to smile. as the colonel looked into your eyes, you found it hard to keep that smile. there was something about him that made you feel small. his eye were empty. they were cold. you felt like a rabbit who’d caught the attention of a wolf.

“i watched a couple of your video logs. you got separated from your team and you’ve been taken in by the natives, yes?” the colonel asked.

you nodded once. “yes…”

“as head of security, it’s my job to make sure my people are safe. you’re one of my people, miss ramsey, which means that avatar body you control is, too. to be honest with you, i’d say you’re now one of the most essential people in this hell hole.”

“i have a job for you, missy. i want you to gather intel about the natives for me and record it in your video logs. find out how they operate. find out what it would take to make peace with them.”

your stomach sank.

peace was still being sought.

you were so wrapped up in day to day life in home tree that you forgot that the relationship between the navi and the RDA was unfriendly in every sense of the world.

it made you feel queasy to remember your first night in the forest. sweat pooled in your palms as you recalled seeing him for the first time. those glowing eyes. that bow half-drawn, aiming for your chest.

tsu’tey had every intention of killing you.

and he would’ve if eywa hadn’t stopped him.

the colonel leaned in and asked in a low voice, “do you think you can do that for me?”

“yes, sir.” you whispered. slowly, you nodded. the only thing you could do was nod. “of course.”

“that’s good.” the colonel said with a smile. he tapped his hands on the metal of his chair as his smile grew and grew. “that’s real good, miss ramsey. you’re going to be a great deal of help to me and you’ll be making the lives of everyone here all the safer. besides, it’ll be easier to answer to me than it is to answer to dr. augustine.”

you smiled, too. you forced your lips to show your teeth and you dipped your head. “ah, she’s not so bad…but i will say i’m more keen on tactical work than computers.”

“i like to hear that.” the colonel said. “have you given any thought to enlisting? it could benefit you a lot here in hell’s gate.”

“truthfully, no. i’m not really sure what role it is i play here and i’m not too sure if i’ll pick one at all. i’m here to fill my sisters shoes in any way that i can. right now, it seems my job is to keep learning.” you said.

the colonel seemed to roll your words between the tips of his fingers. “knowledge is power— and i need all the knowledge i can get my hands on. study the natives as close as they’ve been studying you and in time, you won’t need to fill any shoes that aren’t your own.”

“your sister may have been selected to aide dr. augustine in her studies so that she can write a second book that no one will bother to read— but you? you’ve been chosen by me to ensure the security of the men and women on this base. to me, that is far more important than what you can see under a microscope.” the colonel said.

“i understand, sir.” you said with another dip of your head. “i’ll make sure to detail my findings in my logs.”

“good.” the colonel said as he stood. “you have a good rest of your night, miss ramsey. we will be in touch.”

as he walked passed you, your heart returned to its place in your chest and not lodged up into the back of your throat. you uncurled your hands from fists and rubbed them up and down your thighs to wipe away the sweat. you felt as though you could breathe.

“oh and miss ramsey?”

“yes?” you asked, turning your head.

the colonel stopped by the door and said, “make sure not to tell any of your scientist friends about this little arrangement. grace augustine gets very unhappy knowing i’ve stuck my nose into her program.”

“sure,” you said softly. “no problem.”

the colonel left without another word.

you nearly crumbled into a pile of ashes. curling over the table, you rested your face against the cold metal. your heart was racing in your chest. it was hard to breathe around the pressure on your shoulders and the tightness in your throat.

what the hell are you doing, you idiot?

you had no answer for yourself.

covering your head with your arms, anxiety burned your belly. it put a sour taste in your mouth.

you were now on the colonels radar.

he expected information out of you. he expected answers— unlike grace who expected results.

in bed, you could hardly sleep. tossing and turning, you couldn’t lay still. it felt like there were ants in your sheets. each time you felt comfortable, tsu’tey scowl flashed in your mind.

what you were going to do was wrong.

you knew in the core of your being that spying on the clan and handing over your findings to the RDA was wrong.

but what choice did you have?

you had chosen to be a warrior— and yet you had been chosen to be a spy.

you buried your face into your pillow and tried your best to ignore the way shame made you feel.

it brought you shame to know that each time you’d log the events of the day, miles quaritch would watch your recordings and use them to his advantage. and the worst part was that you couldn’t just spew bullshit. you had been tasked with learning how they operated. learning how they functioned not just as a people but as a united force. if you didn’t make the right reports with the right kind of information, what would happen to you?

you had no idea.

you did know, though, that you’d never be allowed to touch a link-pod again.

the avatar body you’d grown to love would lay a husk until it died. you’d be ripped from the forest like a weed out of the ground. you’d never be able to feel mitsia’s heart. you’d never be able to sit in home tree and listen to the people sing.

you’d never get to see tsu’tey again.

he tolerated you because you looked like him. blue, tall, and freckled with bioluminescence, your avatar did it’s job of seeming normal enough to even the mightiest warrior. even if he’d never admit it, over the last nine days you had become familiar. he wasn’t very fond of you and he was definitely not your friend— but at the very least, you were familiar to him.

he would shoot you dead if he saw you standing before him as the alien you truly were.

that was something you couldn’t risk.

your admiration for him and your hunger to learn from him was not something you could let slip away— so you would do what the colonel asked of you.

in order to run through the forest and bicker with him, you’d do as miles quaritch asked. and you would do so carefully. cautiously. as gently as you could— because you did not want was to lose the freedom you’d been given. you didn’t want to lose the life you had just begun to lead. you didn’t want to be trapped inside metal walls and crowded by machines and pollution any longer.

and the last thing you ever wanted to do was hurt him.

eywa had given tsu’tey a sign protect you. when the atokirina landed on his bow, it had been a duty gifted to him. he protected you from the nantang— from himself. and he would continue to protect you from anything that tried to harm you.

tsu’tey had given you a purpose. when he carried you to home tree and took on the burden of becoming your teacher, he’d given you a second chance at life.

it was now your turn to protect him.

from the RDA.

from the colonel.

and maybe even from yourself.

thanks for reading :)

next chapter >

[itstheghostofmypast]

Thanatophobia

Idol Choi Jongho x (F)Reader

Summary: How long does it take one to actually give up on you? How long does it take the other to realise that love is more than just an act of receiving, where bottled-up fears and insecurities may be enough to pull someone away from you, especially the someone Jongho had begun to take for granted.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.4k

Est. Read Time: 20 min

Warnings: Strong language, thanatophobia (fear of losing someone you love)

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Choi Jongho was anything but heartless, he was arrogant at times, he was stubborn most of the time, he was emotionally clueless sometimes, he was sarcastic most of the time, he was petty at times and he was straightforward most of the time, but what he was not, and he quotes, was a ‘heartless moron’. Now, he wasn’t one to fight, in fact, they’d barely ever get into a fight, usually because she would be compromising or choosing to accept defeat, but tonight was not one of those nights where he was given this privilege, where she would easily accept defeat and brush off his sarcasm, no, it just escalated into something ugly and gruesome.

It all started when he came home early for once, the dorm was empty too, or so he thought, for the moment he had flopped down on his bed, face forward, someone had jumped on him, scaring the daylights out of him.

“Boo!” “HOLY SHHHH- what are you doing here?” he whined, rolling over when she rolled off him, both of them lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling, well, he had his eyes closed, she turned her head to look at him with a pout, scooting closer, wrapping her arms around his arm as she pressed her cheek smush against his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of her baby bear, “I had the spare key, Wooyoung gave it to me last time I came over but you were out, so he was like I should have it, gave me his saying he’d get another one and-” Cracking open an eye he scoffed, “You sure talk a lot to Wooyoung huh?” turning his head to meet her gaze, she had stopped her monologue, to stare at him in utter shock, “What? I’m not wrong, I didn’t even know about the key thing- Sitting up she glared at him, “That’s because you weren’t home, Jong.” The tension between them was getting thicker, he was tired physically, but she was tired mentally, “You haven’t been responding to my texts or answering my calls, so I doubt you’d know- “I have a job, you know?” he scoffed, following suit, as she sat on his bed on her knees, frowning at him, and he sat at the edge of the bed, both in a heated stare off, he was actually waiting for her to avert her gaze, or mumble an apology or whine cutely to end the fight, so he’d feel like he’d won like he had control, some form of dominance, “I can’t just respond to your every whim.” That was probably what set it off, because the next thing he knew she got off the bed and snatched her phone off the side table, slamming the bedroom door shut when she marched out of the room, her tantrum just set the whole forest on fire as he marched behind her, slamming the closed door open and calling out, “Yah? Are you in your senses? Why are you being like this!?” reaching out to grip her wrist he turned her around, ignoring how she was trying to pull away, “What is your problem? Are you mad about the Wooyoung thing? Cause I’m right about that! You’re my girlfriend, not his!” by now he was yelling, furious, frustrated, fed up, but at what? At his hectic schedule or her? Or perhaps he was upset over how he was unable to spend time with her and the time he had been given was ruined by his own pride. “Y-You think I don’t know that?” she yelled back, snatching her wrist out of his grip, “I know you’re busy too, but the least you can do is leave me on read, can’t you? You don’t even open my texts! I can’t magically guess your schedule!” He should have stopped there, he should have, he had realised that he was in the wrong, but was he willing to accept it so easily? No. Why? Because he was jealous, he was upset and more importantly this was the first time she had ever ignored him, ever chosen to show how his nonchalant attitude had upset her, this was not what he expected, he just thought they’d go on for ten minutes and she’d probably change the topic, not list down why he’s a bad boyfriend. “Doesn’t mean you get all cosy with Wooyoung.” “I-” she stared at him standing in the hallway for a good minute before taking off her ring and throwing it at him, the clink of the gold ring hitting the ground resonated within the silence, before her words cut through it, “You’re a heartless moron.”

That was three hours ago, three hours ago when he had let her walk away like she didn’t even matter to him, instead, he stood there watching the ring on the tiles, the ring she had gotten for them on their first anniversary, it wasn’t a promise ring, but more of a ‘just know when we’re far apart across the world, you’ll always have a piece of me and I’ll have a piece of you’ kind of ring- why’d she throw it at him, shouldn’t she have taken it with her and asked him to give the one he was wearing back to her?

“I love how that’s the only thing you’re worried about.” Wooyoung sighed, climbing up the stairs, his phone sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder as he carried two bags full of groceries up the quiet staircase, “You’re a real idiot you know, she did come over three times last week, the poor thing sat outside the apartment for an hour the third time and that’s when I gave her my key…Hongjoong told me that was the right thing to do too.”

“I- I was busy.” The youngest huffed, staring at the gold band, twirling it around in his fingers, “It’s not like she told me, I was too busy to read her texts, so she should’ve understood-”

“Understood what? That you’re a shitty boyfriend?” Wooyoung stopped at a step, the step that led to their floor, someone was sitting on the floor next to the door to the hallway (Yes Woooyoung had used the fire exit to come upstairs, San had told him this was a great way to work out- he’d kill the bastard for that tomorrow), hugging their knees, head resting against the wall, puffy eyes closed- was she asleep?

“What? Why!?”

“Jongho, did you even call to make sure she reached home safe?”

“Well… I…no.”

“I’m amazed you found someone who loves your useless a**.” With that Wooyoung hung up, sighing as he walked over to her, placing the grocery bags on the floor to crouch down and gently shake her shoulder, “Excuse me miss, but are you in your senses- how are both of you this dumb?”

.

Jongho slammed the front door open, not even bothering to put on his mask as he hastily made his way out of the apartment, only to bump into a smaller form, hearing a familiar yelp he instinctively reached for her, wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer, pressing her against him. He let out a breath of relief, at the realisation that it was in fact her, she was too tired to pull away or even push him away, and that was why she just stood there, letting him wrap his arms around her, resting her forehead against his chest, too drained even to protest. He looked behind her to spot Wooyoung standing there, grocery bags in hand with the most disapproving look he could muster, “Found her on the staircase, poor thing cried herself to sleep there- then there’s you, a bastard with an ego as big as the sun-”

“H-her phone was powered off.” He quickly defended himself, pulling her even closer as he tightened his arms around her, not wanting her to escape. The moment Wooyoung hung up on him, he realised how bad he had f*cked up, Wooyoung was never one to leave a conversation hanging, that is until he completely gave up on the person, and if Wooyoung had given up on him, did this mean his patient, compassionate, honeybee had done the same? Though his question was answered with a loud sniff, causing him to look away from Wooyoung and look down at her, only to meet her teary gaze, his gut twisted at the way she asked the dreaded question with her voice trembling, as if it was being thrown around by her pestering insecurities, insecurities that he had brought to life, that he had helped manifest within her, by constantly pushing her to the sidelines, by ignoring her beckoning calls, by looking right through her even though she stood right in front of him, with a warm smile and a heart of gold- one he was not worthy to call his own; “D-do you not love me, anymore?”

It was this very question that had him look up at Wooyoung in panic, a cry for help, though the fox-like man shrugged and walked past them, mumbling, loud enough for him to hear, because he knew the girl crying in the younger man’s arms was sobbing so loud, the floodgates of all that pain and anxiety that was slowly drowning her had now enveloped her completely, leaving her a mess, a mess he was supposed to fix, so she couldn’t hear him, she didn’t hear him, when he side-eyed the youngest, and walked past them, “You f*cked up, fix it yourself,” slamming the main door shut behind him, finally leaving the two alone in the corridor.

An eternity later the two were sitting on the same staircase where Wooyoung had found her, the two were staring at the window ahead, she thought she was tired before, but all that crying just amazed her, at this point, she felt like she’d faint if he pushed any wrong buttons. Though they had been sitting quietly for the past hour, he had not uttered a word, which meant he wasn’t going to be the first to break the tormenting silence, as usual, it would be her, to kneel and-

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened at the foreign choice of words, slowly turned her head to stare at him with shock through her puffy, swollen, eyes, licking her dry lips before speaking. Still, he cut her off again, this time turning to face her, the determination in his eyes somewhat scaring her, she’d only ever seen that look when he was going to sing a song that wasn’t the easiest when it came to the number of high notes, perhaps he was going to sing a perfect melody that was just for them, in tune with their pent up love for each other- for his locked up love for her, a symphony she wouldn’t mind hearing over and over again.

“I- I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but you need to understand I did not doubt your loyalties or misjudge your character, I was only self-projecting my insecurities, I know you’d never do such a thing, I know you love me and I- I” he paused, watching how her breath hitched, eyes widening in expectation, biting her lower lip unsure of how he felt about her, “I love you so much it turns me stupid- it scares me how much I want to be around you, I- I want to be vulnerable around you and…what if you don’t like it? You don’t like me when I’m not my at my strongest or my best…and I- I guess what I’m trying to say is,” he reached in his pocket to pluck out the ring, showing it to her, “Could you please find it in you…to give me another chance- you don’t have to say yes right away, I won’t force you, I could never…just…let me drop you home this time…yeah?”

She stared at him quietly, blinking slowly as his words processed before letting out a sigh, scooting closer as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she placed a soft kiss against his warm skin, sighing when she felt him pull her closer, gripping him tighter when she heard him sniff, feel his body trembling against hers, letting him finally let it all out against her, but never looking up, her face buried in the crook of his neck, mumbling sweet positive affirmations or kissing the skin as she let him have his moment, only to feel him slowly push her away, looking down at her with puffy eyes that matched hers, and a nose pinker than hers, “Please…stay.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere, you dummy.” Sighing she pulled off him, taking the ring from him but he didn’t let her, instead, he slipped it back on her finger, “I was waiting for you to come and give this to me…if I wanted to leave you for good, I would’ve told you to give me the ring you’re wearing back.”

Letting out a dry chuckle he shook his head, he was an idiot, one who couldn’t read situations as well as he boasted that he could- he guessed he was clueless when it came to love, at least he had someone as patient as her to help him pull through his minefield, frolicking through it like it was a field of daisies.

“Thank you…” he sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, before leaning closer to capture her lips in a kiss, only to realise how long it had been since he had kissed her, making him pull her closer, cupping her face as he tried to make up for lost time.

Finally pulling back she smiled at him out of breath, watching how he took in equally deep breaths, his cheeks all puffed out and pink, “I’m out of practice.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got all night.” She smiled.

“I prefer taking things to the bedroom, not a voyeurism guy.”

“Choi Jongho.”

“I love you” he chuckled, watching her shake her head in defeat as he pulled her up to her feet, laughing when she whined at how he was speed walking to the apartment, mumbling, “Do you want me to carry you? Because I will, for as long as you want, honeybee.” And that’s what Wooyoung saw before Jongho closed his bedroom door, carrying her half-asleep form in his arms, bridal style as he mouthed a thank you to Wooyoung before going to finally cuddle up next to her like she had originally planned for the night.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky

[jessthebaker]

Dieter Does Christmas

For @futuraa-free, Merry Christmas from your Dieter Brainrot Secret Santa with the @dieterbravobrainrotclub!

Many thanks to my lovely betas, @toomanytookas, @bitchwitch1981, @march-flowerr, and to @almostfoxglove for her support with graphics (because I need my hand held when learning new apps). Biggest thank you @sp00kymulderr for setting this all up and being generally wonderful.

Read on AO3

___

Dieter x gn!reader, Reader is not described in any way.

a/n: Dieter is taking his Christmas holidays at home with you, his supportive long-time partner. You spend the day together and take in the Christmassy atmosphere. That’s it, that’s the fluff.

Rating: 18+ for brief mentions of sex and being naughty with Christmas decorations, a hint of alcohol (if you squint) and mentions of past drug use. But really just fluff. It’s all fluff. Dieter is his own warning.

Word count: 3.7k

You wake up early on Saturday. Dieter lays next to you, snoring lightly. It's too soon for him to be awake, but for you, it's normal. Your work schedule requires you to get up by 6am, and Dieter is....well, he doesn't wake up a minute sooner than his call time requires. A morning person he is not. Unfortunately for you, you are so used to being awake by dawn that it's practically impossible to sleep later.

It's been too many days since your work schedules allowed you to sleep in together, and you relish the chance to spend the morning waking up at your own pace. His mouth hangs open slightly as he sleeps deeply, his breath coming out in rhythmic puffs on your face. His morning breath is god-awful, thanks to the super-spiked eggnog you had both indulged in last night. At his suggestion. You don't mind the bad breath though if it means you can be here with him this morning. "For better or for worse", wasn't that how the saying goes?

(Not that you were married, of course. You had both experienced too much pain in past relationships to really ever consider taking that step again. But that didn't mean you weren’t just as devoted to each other, rings or no rings.)

You scan the rest of him, for once having the opportunity to look closely at him without his mischievous grin and self-deprecating jokes pushing your attention away. You love his face. His scruffy beard is growing back in now, after being allowed a hiatus from shaving for two weeks. His soft, full mustache flutters a little as he breathes. His wild hair sticks completely up on one side while matted down flat on the other as his head is pressed into the pillow. You always did like his bedhead. His strong nose makes you smile fondly. His eyes zip back and forth behind his closed eyelids as he dreams. His brow furrows briefly with some emotion, then smooths again as he calms. One of his arms is tucked under his head, elbow crooked. The other arm subconsciously reaches out for you.

Your thoughts turn to the day ahead. You’re already expecting a slow start, with at least two coffees required before Dieter can even think about moving on with the day. You have it all planned out: Go to the nearby shopping center and start scoping out the Christmas decorations. Check out the Christmas market that went up the other day. See if that temporary ice-skating rink has been installed yet. Definitely make sure to stop by your favorite cafe on the way home for some Christmassy treats.

You watch Dee slowly wake up, his eyes gradually blinking open and coming to focus on you. You feel a small smile grow as you brush a stray curl out of his eyes and behind his ear. “Morning, love. Sleep well?”

“Mmmf,” he groans as he shifts and stretches in bed. “I was having a good dream...something about radar devices installed in...chickens? And they were laying shiny rainbowy eggs because the radiation made their eggy organs go haywire.” He stretches again and his eyes brighten. “Now I’m craving eggs! Can you make scrambled eggs? You always make them the best!”

You smile. “Sure, I can do that. Come on, let’s get cleaned up first. Your breath smells like sour eggs, speaking of which...”

He grimaces and closes his eyes again. “Fuuuuck, don’t remind me, that ‘nog was amazing. But if we’d had any more of it last night I wouldn’t have been responsible for the way my ass behaves today.”

After a second he re-opens his eyes and wiggles his eyebrows playfully. “Food time. You coming or what?”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re both in the kitchen trying to stay out of each other’s way as Dieter prepares coffee and you make scrambled eggs and toast. We really aren’t used to being together in the mornings anymore, you think to yourself.

You can’t wait until his current project is done filming, because you know he has a couple of months’ downtime before the next one is slated to begin. You’re looking forward to spending some real time together, not just two weeks over the holidays that always fly by too quickly.

Once food and coffee are ready, you sit together to eat. You spread avocado on your toast while Dieter has his with butter and rainbow sprinkles. This is his favorite way to eat toast, after having been introduced to it by an Australian co-star a few years ago. (“Fairy bread, she called it! Guarantee she’s never actually met a fairy in real life. I want to meet a fairy one day. Where do you think we could go to find fairies? Angeles National Forest has lots of good trees, I bet we could find some fairies around there.”)

Somehow, someway, some time later, you manage to get yourselves out of the house and on the way to your favorite shopping center. As you pull into a space in the busy parking lot, you glance over and can’t help but smile at the look of delight on Dieter’s face. There’s a lot happening, even from out here. There’s a coffee van set up off to one side of the front doors and people are standing around it waiting for their caffeine boost. There’s a small pop-up market with half a dozen stalls lined up on the other side of the doors, their tables groaning with wares to tempt holiday shoppers. You aim yourselves over to these on your way into the shopping center.

You know this will probably take some time because Dieter loves checking out everything. He just has to touch things, picking them up to examine the details more closely. He likes to shake ornaments that look like they might be rattly, and sniffs the ones he thinks might smell pretty. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he had been a raccoon in a previous life.

One stall looks devoted to old-fashioned statues of Santa and Mrs Claus that look hand-carved, while the stall next to it is selling miniature village scenes that look like they’re from the North Pole. Next to them is a stall with a man sitting amongst a display of beanies, mittens, gloves, and scarves. He’s knitting while animatedly chatting to the vendor on his other side selling baubles, so you presume all of his wares are handmade as well. On the end furthest from the coffee van is a stall set up with a large pot steaming with the delicious fragrance of mulled cider. Their neighbour is selling hot cinnamon donuts made fresh to order. You and Dieter walk slowly along, looking at everything and admiring the talent of the artisans. You make a mental note to come back tomorrow and indulge in the cider & donuts – you have other plans in mind for today already.

As you walk into the front doors of the centre, you see a large gilded throne set up against a tall red backdrop in the main foyer, fenced off by a short white picket fence adorned with sparkly red and green garlands. You can see a few staff members dressed as elves getting set up for the Santa photos, slated to open soon. You know Dieter will want to get his photo taken with Santa. You hope Santa is up for the challenge of fitting a grown man on his lap. Last year’s Santa photo didn’t go so smoothly, and you’re sure that at least a few elves regretted coming to work that day.

Once past Santa’s throne, your first stop is the department store with what looks like half the store devoted to Christmas decorations. You start in the aisle of Christmas trees; from full-sized to medium to short, with the miniature glass trees displayed separately on a waist-high shelf. You see the glint in his eyes as he notices one in particular and lifts it up and hefts it, as if testing its weight.

“No Dee, you can't put that up your ass," you forestall his suggestion with a mock roll of your eyes.

He whines a little and pouts, "Are you sure? We should probably get one to try out, just to be sure...." but relents and puts it back where he found it. He doesn’t lose the glint in his eye, though.

The next aisle over is brimming with ornaments of all shapes, colours and sizes. Dieter can't stop looking at them, most of all at the round baubles shimmering with glitter. You can see the sparkles reflected in his eyes, and he looks like a child again, going wide-eyed with the wonder of the season. He looks over at you with a soft grin and reaches for your hand. You share a smile as you interlock fingers and take in the dazzling display in front of you.

The sudden screech of a child having a tantrum a few aisles away reaches your ears. It breaks the contemplative mood and so you move on to the next aisle. This one is full of nutcrackers in quite a few different styles.

There are the traditional ones with the bright red soldier’s uniform, tall black hat, and long white beard. You spot one you haven’t seen before, wearing a dark green uniform, a very short dark beard, and a shock of white hair in its dark brown hair. Unusually, it seems to be missing an arm. You wonder what happened there.

Another nutcracker has fluffy hair, a patchy dark beard streaked with silver and is wearing a khaki jacket and a backpack instead of a cape. It’s also sporting a rifle instead of a traditional sword.

One nutcracker catches your eye that is a bit taller and broader than its fellows, with longer hair and a greying, scruffy beard. It is wearing what looks like a Roman soldier’s uniform, white with gold decorative trim and a beautiful white cape.

Dieter’s entire face lights up as he realises what he’s seeing. He marches down the aisle and pulls up the cape or backpack of every nutcracker to open their mouths. Then he stands back with his arms crossed and ponders the scene with a serious look on his face.

"You know, they really should have a bowl of nuts around here somewhere so you can test the jaw strength. Oh! Do you think i could - "

"NO, Dee, you cannot try the nutcrackers out on yourself!" You can’t help but giggle at the look of innocent outrage on his face.

“I wasn’t thinking about MY nuts, just...you know, nuts! What if we get a bag of pecans or something and like, scatter them around the nutcrackers so people can test them out?” He questions with an earnest look.

You do think about this for a moment; it’s not the weirdest idea he’s ever had. “Honestly, I don’t think they would go for it, love. Can you imagine the clean-up? Pecan bits everywhere? The staff would hate it and you’d probably be banned.”

His face falls a little, but he accepts the refusal gracefully. “Yeah, you might be right about that.” He turns and sees something else that catches his eye: a display of angel decorations swinging softly overhead in the breeze from the store fans.

“Babe, look, angels! I had a vision about them while I was high that one time, remember me telling you about it? We were flying through the sky, and swooping, and dropping sparkles on people on the earth below. We were the wish angels! We were making so many people happy! Do you think real angels do that?"

He grabs your hands and spins you around in an excited little dance, causing you to lose your balance and stumble into his broad chest. You laugh and clutch onto the lapels of his coat so you don’t fall to the ground and take him with you.

The last thing you want today is to draw attention to yourselves by creating a disaster in the angel aisle. You want Dieter all to yourself today, without other shoppers finding a reason to pay attention to him as “Dieter Bravo, the nutjob movie star”. You are having the loveliest day together so far in your own little bubble, and you don’t want anything to mar that.

Thankfully you both soon manage to get your giggles under control and hold each other up. There will be no falling or crashing today. You straighten each other’s jackets and, still grinning, continue on your way.

Neither of you are in the mood to make any purchases today; you’re just happy to have the time to hang out together. So you nod politely to the staff member greeting people at the door, and head out to the outdoor pedestrian mall on the other side of the shopping center. Sure enough, the ice-skating rink has been set up. You see a few family groups waiting at the gate with tickets in hand, skates slung over their shoulders by the laces.

You and Dieter look at each other but make no moves toward joining the line. You consider yourself fairly fit, you love running and swimming, but your athleticism has not translated over to skating. Dieter prefers to sit out and observe anyway. One of his favourite activities is coming up with stories about the people he sees, and “making” them follow his narration. You love to witness his imagination working.

You both take a seat on the benches outside the fenced area and get ready to spend some time people-watching. Dieter’s eyes are gleaming and his mouth has that sly smirk, and you know he’s working up some mischievous scenarios for his unwitting puppets across the way.

“Look at those two over there, you see the man with his lady having coffees? They’re planning to go for a cruise this year because they’ve never been before, but he’s just found out he’s inherited a billion dollars from a distant aunt. So he’s gonna buy the whole cruise line company and buy out everyone’s ticket so they can have the whole boat to themselves. Bezos, eat your heart out.”

“These kids skating in a clump are pretty good, but they’re not Olympics-good…except the little one falling behind, see her? She’s been secretly practicing with a coach and she’s just about to whip out a quadruple lux with a double flip-thingy at the end. The big ones won’t even know what hit ‘em.”

“That guy over there walking his dog, look at him! He was thinking about getting another dog for Christmas but he knows the first dog would hate it, so he’s going to get an iguana instead. The dog will be freaked out at first but she’ll learn to love the iguana and let it ride on her back like a little cowboy. Then he’s gonna get a smaller lizard and train it to ride on the iguana’s back, so he can take them all on America’s Got Talent. It’ll be the Three Perros.”

You just listen and laugh along with his stories while enjoying being out and about in the fresh air.

After resting for a little while longer, you realise you’re feeling the chill. It’s not really cold out; Los Angeles doesn’t get that cold even in winter. Even so, the day is brisk and you’ve been sitting long enough to cool down from your earlier walk. You both decide it’s time to reinforce your people-watching with some sustenance so you stroll across the mall to the cafe that you both love. Dieter goes to choose a table while you place your order at the counter.

You don’t have to wait long for the server to bring your drinks over: hot chocolate with a candy cane for you, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows for him.

As they set your drinks down in front of you, you thank them politely and pretend not to notice as Dieter pulls out a hip flask and surreptitiously pours a generous splash of a clear amber liquid to his drink. You can see perfectly well, of course, but you don't rat him out. He's had so few treats lately with the gruelling pace of the movie he's currently filming. The cast only got the bare minimum of two weeks off for the holidays, so he’s determined to make the most of his time relaxing with you. If the man wants a boozy hot chocolate, who are you to argue?

You take a sip of your hot chocolate and twirl your candy cane at Dieter in mock sword-fight. He grabs it and pops it into his mouth to give a long suck, making a loud “pshhlooooo” sucking noise and pulling a wide-eyed lewd face. You can’t help but laugh and roll your eyes as he gives your candy cane back at you, smirking, “what? I didn’t do anything!”

Dieter lets out a contented sigh as he takes a long drink of his own hot chocolate and swallows. He graciously gives you one of his extra marshmallows before it gets too melty. You giggle before reaching over to rub at a bit of the sticky white fluff floating in his mustache. You pop your sugary finger into your own mouth and copy his silly noise as you suck it clean. You don’t miss the quiet groan and slight frown he makes at the sight of your cheeks hollowing with the suck, and your finger exiting your mouth sans marshmallow.

“None of that, Dee, we’re in public. Having a nice, G-rated, Christmassy, G-rated day...in public.”

“Babe, you really know how to tease, you know that? This-” he gestures towards his lap, “is going to cause a scene if I get up and walk around now. You’re gonna have to go up and get us more food or something while this goes away.”

You happily oblige, returning shortly with two plates from the pastry case. “I got us some nutella crepes and a raspberry danish just in case, which one d’you want first?”

He makes grabby hands for the crepes and you laugh and playfully pull them in towards yourself with a grin.

“Aw, if you wanted the crepes yourself, why’d you give me a choice? You know I’ll give you whatever you want,” he pouts slightly. He acts affronted, but you know he’s not upset.

You cut off a piece of rolled-up crepe and stab it with your fork. Leaning over in your seat, you offer him the forkful while giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Because life is much nicer when you have choices, my love.” He chews, swallows, and returns the kiss with chocolatey lips and a warm smile that murmurs, “I love you, so much.”

Soon you’re both full of sweets and hot chocolate, and Dieter is looking slightly pink in the cheeks due to his special secret ingredient. You give him a questioning look and glance downwards, and he nods as if to say “I’m ready, let’s do this”, and you pull your seats out and get ready to leave your table.

“Do you want to go see if they’ll let you sit on Santa’s lap this year? It’s still early, the line might not be too long yet to get a photo with him,” you offer.

His face lights up with glee. “Absolutely, babe, but you have to be in the picture with me this time! You didn’t last year and it ruined the whole vibe!”

“Dee, I witnessed the whole thing! Me not being in the photo was definitely not the thing that killed the vibe.”

You relent though and join the line with Dieter. You both do your best to ignore the other patrons around you, at least one of whom you can see staring in your peripheral vision. It’s a young man with his phone half-held up, as if to ask for a selfie. He retracts his hand when Dieter notices him, smiles politely, and very deliberately turns away to give you a kiss on the cheek. The man looks slightly dejected but he doesn’t push it.

When you reach the front of the line, you clock the main elf giving Dieter a wary look. Santa gives her a reassuring nod, however, so she steps aside and doesn’t object when Dieter eagerly steps forward. This year’s Santa seems younger than last year’s, and he looks more solid too. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe this year will be fine.

At Santa’s encouraging smile, Dieter sits down on one of his legs and gets comfortable. Santa cocks his head at you, asking if you’d like to sit on his other leg. You make a face and shake your head no, so he murmurs a direction to the elf to bring a chair over for you to sit next to him.

When you are seated, Santa asks Dieter the classic question, “And what would you like for Christmas this year, young man?”

Dee leans in close to Santa’s ear and whispers something you can’t hear. It makes Santa smile though. Santa motions to you, and you obligingly lean in closer so the camera-elf can snap the photo of the three of you. The flash blazes in your eye-line momentarily, and then it’s over.

Dieter thanks Santa before standing and reaches for your hand to pull you up. Santa gives you a wink and lays a finger on the side of his nose, and wishes you both a, “very Merry Christmas, ho ho ho!”

As you leave Santa’s enclosure, another elf offers Dieter the printed photo and Dee pulls out his wallet to pay. You both wish the elf a Merry Christmas and walk away, hand in hand.

Dieter has a silly smile on his face as you stroll together. You aren’t sure if you want to ask, but you’re dying to know anyway. “So, what did you ask Santa for?”

He glances over at you and squeezes your hand.

“I told him I didn’t want anything this year. That you were all I needed.”

[just-animaxiz]

Lap Rounds

[Mr. Creeper X Reader - Mr. Creeper is a clever asshole. Reader is the student's fave. Workers to Enemies to ???]

When I was young, I used to hate gym for the same reasons as anyone else: I hate running laps. Now, as a social worker in Strange Hill High, I hate it more when the gym teacher shouts in his Aussie accent, “A’right! 50 laps around the gym! No breaks!” 

I struggled to groan with the students, who did nothing but follow his orders.

The teacher in question is Mr. Creeper – Unusual name, unless you’re an 8ft Plant monster who looks like a gym teacher. From what I had heard, he used to be a small plant until someone planted growth formula that strangely transformed him to be bigger, stronger, and more sentient than before. It feels like I’m making a tall tale or a rumor, but in Strange Hill High? Anything weird is considered the normal around the school. 

Right now, I unfortunately was assigned to be his assistant for the week. I’m no profession at sports, but the headmaster said that anything will do just fine and I have to, “Deal with it.” From my personal opinions about this behemoth of a teacher, I could tell you one thing: He’s not like Mr. Balding who is kind but boring, or Mr. Garden who is friendly but tired. 

No - He’s like a phone alarm that automatically sets itself up. He schedules what time you should get ready, what you should be doing, and for how long. You cannot turn it off, because he’ll remind you five minutes later. Or in this case, five seconds.

“Bishop! Raise those legs as high as a Roo! Tyson, don’t be a Sassa-Rilla with those big snatchers - I said RUN!” Mr. Creeper called out, as loud as a Screecher-ma- Oh dammit, now I’m copying his slang!

After around 8 laps, I watched students’ face falter and sweat so much, they almost look like they’re running underneath the blazing sun! I gripped onto the clipboard for today’s schedule and leaned to the side, gesturing my presence to Mr. Creeper, “Mr. Creeper, would it be alright if we just shimmer down to 25, like - I don’t know - The class is intended to do?”

Mr. Creeper snapped his head at me with the most offended snarl, as if I just insulted him, “25?! No! I’m doubling the counter since a certain BLUDGER didn’t make it on time.”

He’s talking about Mitchell Tanner, the recently new student of Strange Hill High.

“Mr. Aberdonie told me that the slack-ri-baloney always like to test them, even though he hates tests! Just this morning, I tried to find him, but he’s a no-show of all ages! So, I’m giving him karma by making his class suffer! Now -” 

Just as Mr. Creeper turned to the class and shouted angry orders again, I coincidentally glanced at the curtains beside him and spot a teenage boy popping his head out. He gestured a signal to me, and I faintly nodded as a response before turning to Mr. Creeper, “Oh! If you’re looking for Mitchell, he’s probably at the clock tower.”

Mr. Creeper glared back at me, “And you didn’t tell me until now?!”

“You didn’t asked.” I shrugged, then the gym teacher angrily growled and marched away, indirectly shoving me to the side on the way. As soon as he left and the doors close behind him, I looked at the curtains, “You can come out now.”

At my call, the students slowed down their pacing and Mitchell jumped off the stage and waved two bags of candies, “I got your order, just like you asked. And no, I didn’t eat all of the red ones on the way.”

Chuckling, I rolled my eyes and reached my hand out, waiting until the boy handed me the bags. I then turned to the students, “Alright! Mr. Creeper has ten minutes, so finish your usual 25 laps. And for every round, one of you will get a candy reward!”

All of the students cheered – Except for Becky Butters. The pink-haired girl with the cute green glasses raised her hands doubtfully, “Don’t you think it’s immoral to go against Mr. Creeper behind his back? You’re just as crazy as Mitchell over here!”

“Hey!” Mitchell called out, but then smiled, “Thanks!”

I sighed, “Becky, I care about you kids just as much as I care about not seeing sweat fill the floor like a swimming pool… Plus, these candies have nougat-flavored sweets!”

Like a light switch, Becky eagerly reached her hands out, “GIVE ME!”

Mitchell turned to me with a shocked scoff, “I can’t believe there’s actually an adult who’s works in a school and is really like-able around here!”

“When there’s rules, there’s always rewards!” I playfully winked, then gestured to the group, “Now run along - Your friends are 8 candies ahead of you!”

Just as I planned, each kid followed my lead and raced around the tracks, each reaching their hand out whenever they passed in front of me. I aimed carefully and tossed a candy on each hand, and whenever they missed, they would grab it and continue forward.

After 10 minutes, the students tossed their candies into the trashbag and pretended to run as if they had finished 50 laps. I, on the other hand, looked down at my clipboard and listened until the sounds of muttering and doors opening burst to the side. “Flaming heck - That’s where you are, you little snake!” Mr. Creeper glared at Mitchell, who brought up an innocent smile in return, “I searched for ya in the clock, then Mr. G told me you’re in the kitchen, and Chef said the talking machine block’s with ya, and I’ve been running around my own race for a wild goose who has ADHD!”

“Luckily, I’ve made in time for the 50th lap, right?” Mitchell asked, as if he has a logical counterattack on his end of the argument. This, however, only made Mr. Creeper’s face from green to red. He raised his hand and just as he’s about to shout, the school bell rang. The students cheered and exited the room, followed by Mitchell. Mitchell stopped briefly at the doors, saluted at me and Mr. Creeper, then left. 

Mr. Creeper turned to me, red eyes filled with confusion and anger, “Can ya believe that little brat?!”

I shrugged, “He’s just being him, sir. You can’t beat someone at their own game…” Keeping up the act, I looked down at my watch, “Now it’s time for a short break, so I’ll be heading to get a drink. Bye!”

Without batting an eye, I made my way around him and went out through the doors, secretly grinning ear to ear. 

--

At 3:30, the final bell rang and students were heading out at the front gates. I stood by the metallic gates and waved each of them goodbye. Even the big bullies and sassy mean girls smiled at me the moment they passed through the school environment. My mind and heart beamed with joy, knowing that the playful antics behind my awkward nature finally proved its position. 

It all started when I was under Miss Grackle, and when she left, I audibly sighed, “Oh thank god I wear these earpieces.” What I didn’t know was that I said it quite a bit loud for the entire class to turn their heads at me. After the constant questions and badgering, I immediately snapped, “Ok! Don’t tell Miss Grackle and I’ll help you with the upcoming music test!”

Silence loomed and I thought I was screwed, but at the end, I ended up being the favorite among the students. The only way I contributed was giving them a thing they called “a study guide” to help, and referencing whatever they like into the questions and answers. For example: I used music artists that Croydonia and Stephanie liked as references or used Mitchell’s gaming knowledge to point out what note is said. 

These kids worked differently, and that’s what the school failed to understand.

Speaking of kids, I didn’t see a flash of pink rushing towards the gates, as if she’s running away from something. Walking down the stairs, I caught up to Becky with worry, “Becky! Are you alright?”

Holding onto her beanie, the girl pulled it down to cover half of her face. She murmured apologies and refused to look at me, even when I tried to turn her around. The joy I once felt dampered down to the feeling parents had whenever their kid comes home with tears, “It’s alright. It’s just me, Becky. Nothing’s after you…”

“ - Am Sorry.”

“What?” Now it’s confusion.

I slightly pulled up her beanie to see Becky’s dotted eyes shifting from me to the side, as if she’s looking at something behind me.

“I’m sorry!”

I followed her gaze and turned…

Only to spot Mr. Creeper leaning against the corner, arms crossed and red eyes glaring straight at me. Once he learned I was looking at him, he pulled out one arm and gestured me to follow him. 

Oh crap.

--

“So while I was getting myself a break, I was outside at this very spot. In front of the green.” Mr. Creeper narrated, leading me behind the school where the old greenhouse is. The greenhouse where Mr. Creeper resides most of the time, because like I said before - He is a sentient plant monster.

I nervously followed behind him, and due to the unnatural human height, I’m always shorter than him. My eyes stared up behind his yellow and red leafy head, until Mr. Creeper stopped moving and turned around, “Tell me - What is this little scrap, worm?”

My eyes turned to his hand, now seeing a small paper between his two claws. Small writings inked on one side, while the other remained empty.

The moment my brain clicked was the moment my heart froze in fear.

“A receipt… Sir.”

“A receipt for what?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Head like an emu in dirt, huh?” Mr. Creeper snarled, leaning down to face me at eye level, “Don’t play coy with me. I know where to find tracks.”

The sound of clanging startled me, making me jump before looking down to see the trash can from the gym now faced dead beside me, scattering trash all over. The gym teacher / plant monster turned to the can and squatted down as if he’s a detective in a crime scene, “About 324 wrappers over here. Way too much for an ordinary trashie, right?” 

My eyes, arms, and knees started to shake, like my body’s made out of jelly. Mr. Creeper squatted back up and looked at the receipt, “This little tyke told me someone bought two bags of sweets, and there’s this many wrappers here, it tells me the perp’s clever as the sharpest Goshawk. Now the big question is how did these wrappers get into my gym?”

I cautiously looked around, trying to find escape routes to get out of this mess. Mr. Creeper’s patience grew thin, because he immediately rose up and loomed over me like a wolf staring down his prey. Didn’t help when those sharp teeth flashed right in front of me, as well.

“Answer me, bud!” 

“I-I don’t know sir!”

“So that block of wires didn’t teach you math either. Cute.” His sneer turned into a terrifying grin, “Like a good bloke, I decided to find Nimroo and ask him about it. Funny thing, that thing said - Something about multiplying and dividing. What was it...”

Acting aloof, he turned away for a brief moment and clicked his tongue, “Each bag is party-sized, roughly about 163 for one. All of them - 325 right? It’s enough to feed 13 students 25 times.”

I faced down the floor just as he looked at me, “How many students did I have today?”

Unable to think of another excuse to avoid getting mauled, I nervously answered, “T-thirteen, sir.”

“THIRTEEN! YES! Just like the thirteen students who were supposed to follow MY rounds, which is 50, or as I would like to think - double 25!”

I wanted to blame Mitchell, but I was the one who didn’t tell him about the receipt. WHY DO THEY HAVE TO BE PROOF OF EVIDENCES?!

“Quiet birdie, aren’t ya? Unlike you, I had someone else to sing me its tune.”

Mr. Creeper grinned and leaned down to the side, inching away from my ear, “My Mum.”

That’s when I realized the earlier context of his history.

Becky Butters was the one who took care of Mr. Creeper back then.

She was his caretaker.

His mom.

That’s why she said sorry to me.

“Mum was so kind to tell me everything. After all, I said I wouldn’t accept her when she’s hiding secrets from her own son, and that’ll break her one heart.” Mr. Creeper leaned back, sounding a mix of guilt and cockiness in a glass of manipulation.

“THAT’S JUST CRUEL!” I snapped back up, before the gym teacher shoved his arm past me, pushing me back against the school walls. My heart skipped a beat before doubling it, scared straight down at the intense energy the man’s pulling up on me.

“Cruel as my own assistant playing tricks behind my back?!” Mr. Creeper growled, baring his sharp teeth at me, “You said it yourself, right? ‘Can’t beat someone in their own game’ or something like that?” 

I could hear the bricks breaking from his impact, sending me the message that I should choose carefully.

“Now how about we play my game, then? I won’t reveal this little secret to Mr. Aberdoohickey… If you give me 50 laps.”

“WHAT?!”

“Not enough? How about 75?”

“I didn’t say -”

“100. No takebacks!” Mr. Creeper growled, gripping onto the wall with more force. The bricks cracked like egg shells and I gulped in response.

Just as I’m about to lose my faith in sanity, my eyes caught the sight of three heads peeking over the iron fence behind us. Mitchell, Becky, and Templeton snuck to evade Mr. Creeper’s gaze, and went past the fence. Right beside the iron fence was a high brick wall used for whatever reason other than plot conveniences. A rope heaved over the wall, signalling my chance to escape.

“Well, got any comebacks this time?” Mr. Creeper called my attention, and I gazed at him before turning to the receipt. My body hesitated while my mind pulled up the first thing I thought of.

“I hope you like Hershey’s Kisses!™” I yelled out, then pulled Mr. Creeper by his top and gave him a surprise kiss. 

That’s the first thing my mind thinks of?!

Without even thinking back, I pulled away, giving time while Mr. Creeper’s eyes widened like saucers. I snatched the receipt and ran out to the wall, grabbing the rope and climbing myself over to escape. 

Once I’m out, the three kids stared at me with shock, “YOU KISSED HIM?!”

“I PANICKED! NOW RUN! HE'LL CATCH US IF WE TALK!”

We all ran, ignoring the distant “OY!” and the sounds of a vine whip slapping the floor.

[hamiltonaf]

Hi! I’m so excited you’ve open your requests, can I ask one with Lewis where you work with Toto and are like his little girl, so you get along and are close.

You’ve been secretly in love with him for a while so you try to help and been there for him now that Merc is struggling with the car, so after one race weekend like this one (😪) you try to confort him but he takes his anger on you.

The following week at the factory you’re distant and he starts to miss you…

The end is on you.

Thanks 🙌🏾❤️

Confession | Lewis Hamilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Slight angst but fluff

A/N: Hi loves ! Slowly recovering from being ill for over a week so bare with me. Thanks anon for requesting. Hope you babes enjoy. Requests are still open .xx

The Monza race weekend was here… is it hypocritical of me to say it’s one of my favourites if I’m working for Mercedes ? You can’t deny that the vibe and energy of tifosi doesn’t hype you up even if you’re not a fan of Ferrari.

I couldn’t wait to start posting content for the weekend, I mean it is my job anyway - social media admin. It’s a fun job, not gonna lie. I think it’s quite evident that I spend most of my time posting about Lewis’s paddock outfits than anything Mercedes related. For starters, it’s valid to post Lewis because he’s obviously part of the team and secondly, who isn’t waiting to see the Sir Lewis Hamilton fashion week every race weekend ? Am I right..

I think trying to hide my crush or love should I say for Lewis isn’t working considering that some fans have even commented that it’s ‘quite obvious that admin has a soft spot for Lew’. I’m really exposing myself on main. As extroverted as I am, I can’t help but get shy and quite around Lewis, still bold enough to compliment his outfits everyday on race weekends - if I don’t comment, it’s obvious that something is wrong.

I’d like to think that Lewis and I are somewhat best friends considering we spend more time off-track than on-track. However, I’m starting to re-think that seeing how he’s keeping his distance from me. I eventually just had to work up a nerve to just march over to him and ask him what’s wrong. He finished his interviews and he came back into the hospitality. I approached him with a soft smile, “Hey, are you okay ?” I asked softly. “I’m fine” he abruptly said and brushed my shoulder with his as he walked past. I followed behind him and waited till we were in the hallway to speak up again. “I know something is on your mind. You know you can talk to me Lew, I’m always here for you” I said softly.

“(Y/N) I really couldn’t care to talk to you right now ! Can you just leave me alone ?” He said harshly. Thank god no one was around because I probably would’ve died of embarrassment. My smile fell and I felt a pain in my chest. “Sorry” I said lowly and walked away in the opposite direction.

I avoided him for the rest of the day as he asked. This was the first time he ever raised his voice at me and I was quite hurt to say the least. Usually post-race we’d meet up and go out for dinner or just spend the evening talking in either one of our rooms. I didn’t bother waiting for him after I stuck around for the team briefing, I went straight to the hotel and I was ready to go back to England. So much for thinking we could celebrate him racing for 2 more years.

Luckily I didn’t have to change my flight since I was already scheduled to leave for my flight back home at 8PM. Once I was back home and to myself, I noticed Lewis had posted on his Instagram. Low-key saddened to not receive a message from him yet. I guess it’s a sign I need to get out of my deluded space and get over him.

At a time like this not gonna lie that I hated my job because so much for trying to get over Lewis, posting about him on the teams social media is part of the job.

It’s Wednesday and we have a team meeting at the factory. I really wish I could sit this one out but unfortunately I can’t. I smiled at all the familiar faces as I clocked in and was so relieved to see Toto. “Ahh (Y/N) ! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, you’ve been distant lately” he said as he pulled me in for a hug. “Toto, it’s only been 3 days since the race” I reminded him. “I know, but usually you’re always around after the team briefing on Sundays and even on off days, I hear from you. Everything okay ?” He asked concerned as he had an arm around my shoulder and lead the way.

“Oh yeah everything’s fine, the travelling and the energy from Monza just drained me this weekend. I just needed to de-stress these past few days” I sighed. “Of course, I suggest maybe taking an early holiday to Singapore” he suggested. “Sounds good to me, why don’t you and Susie join me ?” “I’ll let her know and get back to you on that” he smiled as he pats my back. Almost as if on cue, Lewis approached us. “You finally made it” Toto joked. “Sorry I’m late, uncle duties” he shrugged.

I felt so uncomfortable, I wish I could’ve been swallowed up into a hole. “No worries, (Y/N) kept me company” he smiled at me. I glanced up at Toto before stealing a glance at Lewis who was already looking at me with a soft smile.

“Oh, would you look at that, George is here ! Let me just go greet him” I excused myself and walked over to George. “Hey you !” I cheerfully said. “(Y/N/N) ! So good to see you. Carmen and I missed you on Sunday” he said as he then pulled me in for a hug. “Aww sorry I had to take off suddenly, had some things to sort at home” I sighed. “Ahh well we always have the next race weekend” he suggested. “Yeah of course. How’s my bestie doing..where is she ?” I asked. I could literally feel a pair of eyes burning at the back of my head. “She’s at home. You should stop by later if you have time” he smiled. “Aww that’s sweet. Thanks for the offer, I’ll try” I smiled back and just then we were disrupted to gather everyone for the factory meeting.

I don’t know why my brain told me to look back…and I actually did. Of course, it’s Lewis looking right at me. I ignored him and walked past him with George by my side.

After the factory meeting, both George and Lewis practiced ahead of Singapore on the simulator. Our team photographer, Steve, had then sent me the pictures he took for today for me to post onto the team socials. I was in my own cubicle, organising posts and captions until I heard a “hey !” from behind me. “Heyy !” I enthusiastically replied. I turned around on my chair to be faced with Lewis.

“Oh. It’s you” I said as my smile dropped. “Ahh you’re never this disappointed to see me and you’re so distant lately” he said causally. “Are you forgetting what you told me on Sunday ? You said and I quote I couldn’t care to talk to you right now, leave me alone !” I whisper yelled. “Can we talk somewhere more private ?” He motioned to the room a few metres away. I rolled my eyes and followed behind him. “Look (Y/N/N)..I’m really sorry for the way I acted. It was immature and uncalled for. I should’ve never taken my anger out on you... It’s unfortunate that I hurt those that I love and care for, you deserve better” he said as he took a step closer and held my hands in his.

I sighed, “Lew, it’s okay.. I get it. It’s normal to get upset, no one is expected to be happy all the time. You had a bad race, and it is what it is…you’re forgiven” “Those words just made my day. I didn’t know how to message you because I felt bad, and I needed to see you in person to get everything off my chest” he cleared his throat and had a more serious expression. “You made me realise a lot in these few days we were apart… I’m in denial about my feelings” he huffed. “Okay ? Lew I’m not getting you” I raised a brow in confusion. “Life isn’t complete without you in it. Not hearing your laugh or seeing you and that beautiful smile that lights up the room made me realise what I’m missing… I’m falling in love with you (Y/N)” he softly said with a smile.

My heart was racing. I could feel my hands getting clammy. I was at a loss for words. “Please say something” he softly said. “I’m sorry I’m just speechless. This is so surreal. I’ll be honest with you, I’ve been in denial about my feelings for a while, I tried to convince myself that the less I see you then the better… but I couldn’t. You made it so hard for me when you look so fine, and I have to post pictures of you -“ I rambled. “Did you just call me fine ?” He smirked and raised a brow. “Did I ? Oh my god. I- ugh you’re making this hard” I pouted as I noticed his eyes went from making eye contact to subtly switching to my lips.

I didn’t even have time to realise what was going on until I felt the butterflies. He cupped my cheek and placed his lips on mine. I kissed back and placed a hand around his neck to pull closer. “Lewis, have you seen-“ the door burst opened by George. I broke away and felt embarrassed by getting caught in the act. “Found her. Uhm sorry to interrupt, was going to ask if you’re coming over (Y/N/N) but seems like you already have plans” George winked. “Righttt see yourself out mate” Lewis motioned to the door. “Lew !” I playfully hit his chest. “See you love birds around” George said lastly before leaving. Momentarily, Lewis and I turned to look at each other. “So, your place or mine ?” He smirked

[crazybiscuit]

Uptown Girl

Chapter 2

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: You, an out of touch rich pureblood, recently moved to England for yet another engagement prospect. Unfortunately, things don't go to plan as you somehow find yourself constantly running into a werewolf, who has developed a valid reason to dislike you. Warnings: No Remus this chapter but he will be there for the next one obviously. Dead Regulus mention? and I guess pureblood supremacy. Word Count: 1901 Credits: @saradika-graphics thank you for the divider! A/N: March 28th my ass. So sorry that took forever, I clearly suck at meeting deadlines 😓. Anyways, I'll try my best to actually stick to my schedule now, but the next chapter will probably come out in June since I’m sewing my cosplay for Momocon this month. Now, on a more serious note, I'm assuming many of you have heard about what happened in the UK because of JKR's vile transphobic beliefs and I urge you all to please not support her financially. I'm obviously still helping her by writing this fic unfortunately, but do not buy HP merch and if you absolutely want to watch the movies or read the books, just pirate them, get them from the thrift store or some other way that won’t directly fund her actions. That is the least we can do to support the trans community. Finally, I hope you enjoy this chapter despite the shitty political climate we're stuck in right now. Chapters: 1

As soon as your father closed the front door, your mother exploded, “You did not just invite a random stranger to our first hosted party here. Nearly every notable British wizard is invited to attend, Hervé! We have an image to uphold, especially after everything that happened with–” 

“Relax, woman,” the man responded, running a hand through his greying hair and your mother proceeded to smack him at the address with her gloves. This resulted in your father glaring at her as he continued, “He won’t come anyways. He seems like the type to know his place in society. It was simply politeness, he wouldn't take the money, so I had to offer something valuable.”

“You might as well have offered my head on a platter,” you huffed, “He didn’t deserve common courtesy. He behaved like an absolute jerk earlier after I offered him advice.”

Your father, used to both your mother and your own antics, ignored the comment and turned to make his way deeper into the house, “Merlin, why couldn’t I just have sons…”

You felt frustrated but knew that no arguing would rectify this situation, instead turning to the women next to you, “This isn’t fair!”

“Darling, I’m on your side but you know I can’t do anything about this, so if you want to whine, go bother the help,” she shrugged off her coat before pausing, “Did he steal anything?”

Your annoyance rose slightly at the change of subject, “No, but that's not the main issue—”

“Good,” and with that, she made her way to the library.

“I cannot believe this” you grumbled to yourself, storming off to your bedroom ready to write another pile of letters to complain about your predicament.

The next few days went by in a blur with all the renovations and party planning. But despite all of that, you couldn’t seem to get a certain Welsh man off your mind and it was getting more and more frustrating. Even now, as the dressmakers made some last minute adjustments, you talked their ear off, not caring if they even spoke a word of French, “...and when I gave him a helpful suggestion, he snapped at me. I have no clue what his problem was! And worst of all, Papa  invited him to the party.”

The witch standing behind you rolled her eyes, which you luckily missed, and tightened your corset suddenly, causing you to straighten up your posture and adjust your breathing, “He keeps insisting he won’t come but that’s not the point. It’s the principle-”

You, luckily for the seamstresses, were interrupted by your bedroom door opening, revealing your younger sister still draped in her blue satin uniform. Your annoyance immediately vanished as you gasped and pulled away from the dressmakers, ignoring their protests as you ran to hug Josephine.

“Gods, I missed you,” you took a small step back to get a better look at the 17 year old, “How’s school? And the rest of the family? You have no clue how much I miss Southern France, the weather here is dreadful and it gets awfully lonely.”

“Quit being dramatic,” your mother interrupted, smiling slightly in amusement, “We’ve only been here for a few days. You’ll find plenty of friends during the Equinox party, now get back on the stand so we can finish up your gown for tomorrow.”

You didn’t argue as you went back to the stand on the stool, completely oblivious to the witches' annoyance with you as they got back to working on the hems of your skirt. Your sister sat on your bed as your mother opted for the chair closer to you, analyzing your dress thoroughly to ensure perfection. 

“School’s alright. Madame Auclair has been the bane of my existence when it comes to manners.”

“As she should,” your mother interjected, causing the young girl to roll her eyes.

“She’s been trying to stop me from pursuing my studies in magical creatures but Papi Alain insisted that I visit his estate for the summer to help him with his matagots!”

“You’re kidding,” you glanced back at her sister on your white comforter.

“Absolutely not,” Madame Vaillancourt interrupted once more, clearly getting ready to fall into another one of her lectures, “Do you have any idea how dangerous that would be? What if you get disfigured? Do you realize how difficult that could make it for you to find a job at the ministry?”

“I don’t want to work for the ministry–”

Your mother gasped.

“You never insist on Y/N to get a job in the ministry. Why does it matter if I do?”

“She’s marrying into a stable household, you are the one who insisted on not wanting to get married early. You can’t expect us to simply give you hand outs.”

“Why not? It’s not like we’re going to run out of money.”

You checked out of their argument. It didn’t really matter what your mother’s opinion was in the moment anyways, she never had it in her to go against her children's happiness, so Josephine would get what she wanted in the end. This brought your thoughts back to your situation and you looked up to your agitated mother sitting in the corner chair. She had stopped arguing with her other daughter, instead instructing the seamstress to do specific alterations.

“Maman, has his mother told you he’d be present?” you asked, not taking much notice in her instructions to the dressmakers.

The woman paused and glanced at you with a hesitant expression, “Unfortunately, he can’t attend tomorrow. His trip abroad took longer than expected but should be coming back home soon. Then we’ll discuss if you actually want to marry him. He is quite a downgrade from… Nevermind, I didn’t say anything. He’s a lovely, well-renowned and brave wizard, so you should consider yourself quite lucky, dear.”

Your smile died down slightly at the reminder of your late fiancé. Your sister sensing the mood shift speaks up, “It’s also rather lucky that the full moon falls on the 22nd this year. It will definitely make the equinox spell more powerful.”

“Oh! Right, I completely forgot about that! If we're lucky, it will bring us good fortune for the party and we’ll maintain our good reputation.”

“The only thing that could prevent that is Remus showing up, so I hope the full moon will bring me the fortune of not seeing his face at the party.”

“Don’t be rude,” your mother began but was cut off.

“You remembered his name?” Josephine asked with an amused grin, which made you tense up at the implication.

“That’s not- ouch,” you glared back at the needle that pricked you, the seamstress behind you letting out an insincere apology before going back to adding beads to the draped bodice.

“Let’s not focus on what might go wrong for now,” she looked at the solid golden fabric of your gown and addressed the two witches, “Add a faint jacquard weave to the dress, preferably something autumn-esque.”

They both nodded and carefully began casting their spells, causing faint imprints of branches and leaves to appear on the gown. The enchantment also caused the golden colour to swirl slowly, “Perfect! All we need to worry about now is Josephine’s gown.”

The girl let out a groan, falling backwards to lay on your mattress.

Lively music filled the house along with the laughter and chatter of the guests. The fall foliage had found its way into the house and the smell of spiced apples and wax permeated the room. You stood near the entrance with your parents to greet the crowd of purebloods, politicians and other famous wizards growing in your parlour room.

Nearly everyone had shown up to the party except for a handful of people and you were pleased to see that Remus had not made an appearance yet. Your mood further improved as you saw a familiar blonde woman walk through the doors, a toddler in her arms wearing a tiny deep green suit, matching with his mother's slip dress. You walked away from the group of wizards surrounding your parents and sister to greet her. Upon seeing you, she handed the boy to his father and gracefully went to hug you.

“Narcissa, it’s been too long,” you excitedly hug her back, kissing her cheeks, “You look absolutely stunning tonight. How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing much better since Lucius’s charges were dropped. I still can’t believe we were forced to sit through almost two years of court hearings.”

“That must’ve been awful,” you feigned sympathy, not really caring of Lucius’s hardships, instead turning your attention back to the three year old in his arms, “And how’s my little prince?”

Lucius allowed you to take Draco into your own arms as you cooed at the small boy, paying no mind to his father disappearing in the crowd to socialize. The small talk continued between you and Narcissa as you caught up on the years since the private funeral. And unfortunately, that meant the topic you had avoided for the last few years was finally brought up, “Have you seen Walburga since the funeral?”

Your smile tightened as you shifted Draco to rest on your hip as you held him, “I’ve visited her a few times but I think she’s lost herself to her grief… She’s accused me for Regulus’s death a few times, and it’s a little difficult to see how drastically her view of me changed, especially considering I’ve spent most of my childhood thinking she would be my mother in law…”

“I understand. I still visit her semi-regularly but even I can only handle her explosive behavior for so long,” Narcissa responded as she fixed Draco’s hair before caressing his chubby cheek, “But I can’t fault her too much. No matter how much she might claim to hate Reggie and Sirius for their lack of loyalty, she did lose both of them and her husband in less than a few years… I truly am sorry we couldn’t be cousins, I can only hope you find a partner of your standing soon.”

The comment was clearly a warning from the woman, encouraging you to find another pureblood to marry now that you were done grieving Regulus. However, you both knew there weren’t many unmarried pureblood your age in England and the day you began to date someone from a different blood status would be the day Narcissa would stop viewing you as family, a thought that was a little upsetting.

“Thank you,” you smiled before handing her the toddler back, “I need to go greet a few more guests but I hope that now that I’m in London, we might be able to see each other more. For old times sake.”

You both knew this was simply politeness. Once you got engaged again, your relationship would go from nearly being sisters to acquaintances at most. Despite that, you felt a sense of freedom having confronted a small part of your past. You also knew that despite her disapproval, she would understand where your decision came from and your reputation wouldn’t be too tarnished as long as you married a famous or powerful wizard. And with these thoughts, you found it surprisingly easy to join Josephine to prepare the material for the Equinox rituals, the grief still present but less piercing than it had been in years.

[hischierswhore]

FOR THE BETTER | chapter 2

✰ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk jack hughes

✰ nat’s note: i’m back once again! thank u all for the love you have showed chapter 1, it’s truly appreciated.

✰ additional note: there are 2 insta posts that align with this chapter! click on the masterlist link below to view them 🤍

✰ masterlist

february 24th 

“Sing that verse again” Julian said. He was one of the producers on your upcoming album, and you were currently recording the first single. 

“Break my heart & I swear I’m movin on, with your, favorite athlete!” You sang, trying to sound as melodic as possible. 

“Perfect!” Julian said as he removed his headphones and headed into the booth to go over some things with you. Jack, Luke & Quinn were all sitting on the couch nearby, watching you record the song. 

When you stepped back into the room with the boys, you wanted to know their thoughts. 

“Sooo do you guys like it?” You asked, afraid of what your brothers would say.

“I really like the chorus. Super vibey, you know?” Luke got up and started dancing a little before Quinn yanked him back down. 

“It’s got a good message. So far it’s my favorite” Jack said, to which you replied “It’s the only song I’ve recorded, Jack”

“Okay well it’s insanely good, Y/n/n. We’re very proud of you” Quinn smiled from his seat. 

“Thanks guys. Also don’t feel like you’re being held hostage in here. Feel free to go out and do your own thing. I’ll be fine” You gave the boys a light grin and each their own hug as they decided to head to the rink to get some practice in. 

Later on that evening, after spending the entire day at the studio planning out concepts for a music video, you went back to the apartment you shared with your brothers. Quinn was leaving in the morning, as he had to go back to Vancouver. 

Yes, the breakup sucked and you wished you hadn’t gone through it at all, but you were doing a lot better than you thought you’d be. Spending most of your free-time writing new songs or recording melodies that pop into your head at random points throughout the day. 

Your brothers were always concerned for you, seeing as this was your first true heartbreak, but you were handling it better than they thought. You seemed happier, which your brothers all missed because you were always so full of energy. 

Just as you were writing in your room, someone had knocked on your door, presumably Jack letting you know that dinner was ready. You placed your journal down and made your way to open the door. Jack stood there, admiring the doorframe as he waited for you. 

“First, dinner’s almost ready. Secondly, there’s a gala next month that all the players must attend. They said we could each bring a plus one, and I know you haven’t really been out in a while since you’ve been writing so if you want to come with me & Luke, you’re more than welcome to” Jack smiled at you, truly hoping you’d say yes because he hated seeing you locked up in your room and avoiding social interaction. 

You’d lived in New Jersey for a while now, but you never made the effort to meet your brothers’ teammates. It would be a nice change of scenery. 

“Why not, sounds nice” You smiled as you accepted Jack’s invitation. 

“As long as it’s not within the next week because I’ll be filming the new music video”

“No no it’s not. I think it’s like the 16th or something”

“Okay great. I’ll free my schedule”

march 16th

After much assistance from your stylist, you decided to wear a black sheer Givenchy dress. It adorned your features perfectly, and you felt like the most stunning woman in the world. 

Due to your brothers being actual players on the team, they were required to walk the red carpet. You were just behind them, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Afterall, it was your first time meeting the team so naturally you wanted to set a good first impression. You took some solo pictures and made your way into the venue.

As you followed your brothers so they could introduce you to everyone, one man in particular caught your eye from across the room. He had a white dress shirt on, his suit jacket discarded somewhere in the room. He made eye contact with you over his glass of wine before directing his attention back to the man infront of him. 

Your mind stayed on the mystery man all night, eyes scanning the room every now and then in hopes of making eye contact once more but unfortunately, he’d disappeared from your line of sight. Turning your attention back to Luke and his teammate Dawson, trying to actually make friends with a few of these guys. 

Just when you were about to head to the restroom, you felt an arm sling around your shoulders. You turned to find Jack, who appeared to be a tad bit drunk, with 2 men following right behind him. 

“Y/n, this is Jesper & Nico. Nico & Jesper, this is Y/n” Your brother slurred. Jesper reached out and you shook his hand. Jesper was extremely sweet and easy to talk to. When you looked over at the other name, your heart dropped. It was the man you’d made eye contact with earlier. 

“Pleasure to meet you” He said, his voice nearly making you fall to your knees. The damn accent literally made you weak in the knees for a moment. You were lost in his eyes for a moment, taking in all his features before being pulled back into reality.

You noticed his hand was out, just as Jesper’s was, for you to shake. Your face flushed bright pink the moment your hands made contact. You looked to the ground in attempt to hide your blush at the simple action. You smiled at the man before excusing yourself, desperately needing to go the the restroom to get yourself together. 

The second you were behind closed doors, you braced yourself on the sink, holding onto it for support. This felt completely different from what you’d felt in the past. You had butterflies in the pit of your stomach from the second you walked in. 

This couldn’t be happening, at least not now. You’d spent the past month and a half putting up walls, making it extremely difficult for you to trust anyone, and Nico waltzes into your life and makes them crumble within seconds. 

You didn’t want a relationship right now, but Nico made that extremely difficult. All with just a single look. 

taglist: @lovelynikol16 @dancerbailey3 @ashloveshockey

[gyuvision]

goodnight ricky

wc ; 1k - pairing ; ricky shen x fem reader

summary ; before your roommate left she promised she’d find you a replacement. 3 years later she never did, until now, leaving you as confused as ever while you looked at the 6ft male sitting in your room.

contains -> fluff/slight angst

you came back late, having class at a top (and painfully competitive) med school plus the late shift at the local coffee shop. you were tired especially during exams. all you wanted was to stay in your bed and read a book, or sleep for the rest of the night. however you pleased.

so naturally being that exhausted you were absolutely not expecting the man sitting in your desk, drawing towards the conclusion that you were hallucinating and that maybe sleep sounded like a better idea than a book.

“someone told me to wait for you here”

“what?”

“you know, your roommate?”

oh. right.

your roommate was your best friend. you were inseparable, shared the same dreams, got into the same college together.

but everything changed. she got a boyfriend, and suddenly your future wasn’t as intertwined as you originally planned it to be.

they broke up and she realized she wasn’t sure what she wanted. everything about her had changed and your schedule almost never lined up because of how many times she changed it for her ex.

so, she cut ties, peacefully. she explained she no longer wanted the same thing as you and left but promised to visit soon and that she’d find someone to take her place because she knew how much you hated being on your own.

guess that explained why the man (who you later knew as shen quanrui) was waiting for you, in the same spot she always waited for you to come home.

“its been.. 2 years since she left. how could you have found me when she couldn’t even shoot a text?”

“unbeknownst you, you mean a great deal to her more than you seem to think you do. i was her partner in art school before we had graduated, and she sent me here. she knows how you are, with your life plan laid out in front of you, for you. she knows you’d still live here even after almost 3 years. she knows you’d end up getting into med school after college. you’re not that unpredictable jung y/n.”

“so i’ve been prepared all my life, and what about it? i don’t march towards things without a plan. and how could you address me by my full name when i don’t even know yours?”

“shen quanrui.”

“shim what?” “shen. quan. rui. shen quanrui. its not that hard.”

“so you’re not korean?” “obviously not. i’m chinese.”

“can you say your name one more time?”

“my god. you can just call me ricky.”

“lovelicky.” “what?” “nothing.”

“i brought back food. it was supposed to be a snack for me but i guess you can have it now that i know i’ll be accommodating for two from this point on.”

“thanks. but uh- can we just go to sleep?” ricky asked, moving from your desk to sit on your twin bed.

“what? this is a two person flat. go sleep in her old room.”

“uh- i would, assuming she left behind her bed. but you kind of boarded up her room and i’m not looking to take it down at midnight on a thursday.”

“oh. i guess you’re right. i forgot about that. i just never assumed she’d actually send someone to me so i didn’t want to look at everything she left behind.”

ricky shrugged and laid down on one side of your bed, while he let you climb into the side touching the wall. since when was he wearing pajamas?..

“isnt this weird?” you muttered.

“not really.”

“i just met you.”

“your couch looks stiff as fuck and i’m not sleeping on the floor.”

right. you had a couch.. maybe med school is taking a toll on your memory. you feel like your frontal lobe is deteriorating.

ricky watched as you reached for a book, before he quickly grabbed your hand and set it back down on the shelf above the bed.

“no. sleep. you have school then the night shift at the cafe.”

“how did you-” “you leave your schedule framed on your fridge.” “right..”

“goodnight y/n.”

“okay. goodnight ricky.”

[steddieunderdogfics]

Today is all about @dame-zoom-a-lot! In today’s Mod Spotlight, we’re highlighting Zoom and all that they do for this space!

Zoom is our new Challenge Monday person! They get Monday scheduled and help us find fics for all of our special rec days. They also help out with our behind the scenes tech and functionality, offering up new ways to make our processes more efficient.

Zooms (any) started reading English fics in March 2024 when BG3 Karlach put them in a chokehold. They got into Steddie when cuips_not_cute's blinking red light randomly showed up on their dash. One day, she had a really bad day at work and wrote a silly fic about Accountant Steve inspired by Wynnfryd's 'Steve H. Who works in Accounting', and wrote a bunch more since then. He also knits, makes fan art, and codes up tools to make fanfic writing a little easier. It mods for Steddie Underdog Fics and Stranger Things Fanwork Recs

Zoom is always ready to help! It's been a pleasure having them on our team. They're constantly thinking up new ways to improve both the blog and how we run it, which is always exciting! Having someone so eager to help out, someone who will go above and beyond what's asked of them, is a game changer for this space. I'm so glad they're able to help! - @oh-stars

As a part of our mod spotlight, Zoom's answered some questions from you all and our team! You can read them below.

Be sure to stay tuned for more recs and future mod spotlights in the future!

What are your favorite tropes to read?

It’s hard to say because I tend to go for authors rather than tropes. But if I had to choose, I’d say monsterfuckers or crack fics

What is your preferred way to read and find fics?

I prefer to read on my phone. I usually have a notes app open on the side so I can kind of live-blog as I read. Then when I’m done, I copy the entire thing (mostly snippets that I liked and what I thought about them) and paste that in the comment box. This does take a lot of mental bandwidth, so I re-read a lot. My most re-read fic is the a man after midnight series For finding fics… I get my short fics from stuff that people reblog (Thank you @spectrum-spectre for reblogging so many great fics). I find longer fics by reading the works of all the authors I like then following their bookmarks. I’ve also found some incredible fics and ships by beta-ing.

What’s your guilty pleasure trope?

Everything.

What makes a fic an instant yes for you to read?

If I like the summary, I’ll give anything at least a go.

What is your favorite thing about modding this page?

That it has such a strong foundation, and that I can clearly see that I’m doing something good. Stars did an amazing job setting up the basic flow of how we’re supposed to do things, and they’re also great at giving clear directions. I was honestly pretty worried about the workload at the beginning, but I think I spend maybe an hour or so, if that, doing all my work for Challenge Mondays. It’s so gratifying to see all the reblogs and reactions. This is the most supportive and active fandom I’ve had the pleasure to be in, and I think everyone’s willingness to highlight and rec each other’s work is a big part of that.

What drew you to Steddie?

The fanon. My first exposure to Steddie was from @cuips-not-cute’s Blinking Red Light. Then I just devoured all his other fics like Honeyed Affection and Blood is An Aphrodisiac. I found @lollaika’s The Agony of a Loving Gaze while looking for more stuff by cuip, and I just realized… that’s the fanon. It wasn’t just cuip. The boys being kind of unhinged and obsessed with each other. Steve doing the finger wave and twirling things around… I could go on for days, but yeah, definitely the fanon.

ANONYMOUS – Is there any older or lesser-known Steddie event from the past few years that you particularly love (if ongoing or recurring) or loved? Did you participate in any?

I’m new to the fandom (I only joined last July or so) so not really. But I’m participating in the Eddie Munson BB now and it’s been so much fun sprinting with folks.

@sidekick-hero - What makes a fanfic stand out for you?

Timing. I’m so new to fic reading and writing that if a fic introduces me to new tropes and ships, it’ll really sit with me. I already talked about Honeyed Affection and The Agony of A Loving Gaze. But there’s other fics. @runraerun’s Easy As 123 introduced me to Harringrove. @wynnyfryd’s Steve H, Who Works In Accounting inspired me to write my first fic. And @teddywesworl’s  Anemone finally got me to get rid of the stupid hangups I had about omegaverse. They really… I don’t even know the right word for how much these fics have done for me, to broaden how I see the world, what I feel like I’m allowed to enjoy. So yeah. I’ll always be grateful for them. 

@worldswcollide - What advice would you give to someone who is interested in becoming a mod in the future?

Just go for it! If you have the spare time, I’d recommend you learn the basics of Google Suites now, since Google search is turning into more and more of an utter shitshow D:

ANONYMOUS – If you make fanworks and/or daydream about Steddie, what inspires you?

For drawings, other fics. RunRaeRun has these really vivid, emotional visuals that inspired a lot of attempts, and a few actually finished stuff. AidaRonan (@aidaronan) has such detailed and gorgeous monster designs that gives me so much to work with. And I’ve been having a lot of fun drawing for FkinKindaGauche’s Mer verse. It’s so different from standard mers because there’s a lot more plant stuff going into it. For writing, life experiences. I’ve written about layoffs, getting ghosted by bots, doing taxes, etc. I didn’t always have a community to hold my hands through those experiences, so writing Steddie going through them, but together has been a lot of fun. Generative AI is crushing me right now, so I’m probably going to end up writing about that soon-ish.

ANONYMOUS – Do you participate in any other fannish activities, like making playlists, gif edits, fanart, podcasts, Pinterest boards, etc?

Not yet

@sidekick-hero – What motivates you to mod for steddieunderdogfics?

I need a lot of enrichment.

@worldswcollide – Are there skills you’ve learned as a mod that have helped you in your everyday life?

You can sort and filter google sheets as a view-only user using filtered views. I really should make a tutorial because it makes all the spreadsheets so much easier to use.

ANONYMOUS – Outside of Steddie, who is your favorite character in Stranger Things?

Whoever’s POV I’m writing at the moment.

ANONYMOUS – Have you had a particular favorite Challenge Monday or weekend theme so far (maybe because of the theme, the recs, or the engagement, or for some other reason)?

WIP fics with less than 30 comments. Comments are so motivating for writers and I’d be super proud if getting more attention on those fics inspired the authors to finish them.

@sidekick-hero – What do you like best about fandom?

The sincerity of it all. I’ve read some deliciously freaky shit. And they’ve all been written or drawn, or otherwise created only because the artist had a vision and wanted to share it. I also like that there’s a direct community. I write with other authors in the fandom. We cheer each other on and admire each others’ snippets, sketches, and eventually their work. If I comment, I’m pretty sure that the artist can see it and I hope it makes their day a little better, because they certainly improved mine.

@worldswcollide – If you absolutely HAD to choose—enemies to lovers or friends to lovers? (At least when it comes to Steddie)

For Steddie? Friends to lovers, absolutely. But I love the enemies to lovers dynamic for Harringrove. It really depends on the ship I guess. Speaking of, Ronance has such delicious enemies to lovers potential–the anguish of falling for a girl that accidentally tore out your Platonic Soulmate’s heart +_+

ANONYMOUS – For fun: What do you like to do on a rainy day?

I love rainy days. My dog is a bit reactive. So going on a nice little walk when there’s no one outside, and seeing her just relax is so fun.

ANONYMOUS – What inspired you to join the mod team?

The Writer’s Wednesdays. I learned a lot from reading the writer interviews, and I wanted to do whatever I could to help keep the blog going.

ANONYMOUS – How different is modding this space versus others you’ve modded?

I’m new to modding, so I don’t really have a good answer. I only mod this space and another stranger things fan art blog that I started because I was inspired by this blog. This space has a lot more structure and more events (Stars is fantastic I don’t know how they do it).

ANONYMOUS – You mentioned in your bio you like to code things to make writing easier, what sort of projects do you like to make?

I like doing quick and dirty projects that automates one simple task for me without needing to worry too much about maintainability or scalability and all the other fun stuff. I’m most proud of a text generator tool for Ao3 

ANONYMOUS – Outside of Steddie, what other ST fanfic tropes are your favorite?

Errr… I don’t really have a specific trope that I like for just Steddie. But creatures? The weirder, the more non-human, the better. I adore fics that feature the Upside Down more prominently, and as its own ecosystem. I think that’s the Dungeon Meshi girlie in me. Speaking of, y’all should go check out @fkinkindagauche’s PANDO

Today, all of our recs are from @dame-zoom-a-lot specifically! You can always see her recs on our Fic Fridays by checking our #mod zoom rec tag.

[rellsingsovern]

There’s no grounds, Jawbone!

On Wednesday afternoon, three days before spring break, The Bad Kids receive their late report cards and open them together. That Friday, they are marched through a door, expecting to die.

The POV of various parents and teachers of The Bad Kids, during the days leading up to the Last Standard Exam.

Chapter 2: Denial (read chapter one on ao3 at rellsingsovern!)

Riz came home exactly when he said he would, which immediately tipped Sklonda off to the fact that something was amiss.

It was late for the town of Elmville, which meant that her night was just getting started. Who says 9:52 pm on a Wednesday night can't be the perfect time to start reviewing her court footage? She’s 20 seconds into the video and three minutes into hitting the refresh button over and over again (curse the Strongtower wifi) when the sound of a motorcycle grumbling up to the building down below blended into the whine of the single fluorescent bulb up in the ceiling of the living room (curse the Strongtower electricity). Her ear flicked of its own accord a few minutes later, registering no footsteps approaching, as to be expected of her rouge son, but picking up the rustling of papers coming from the hallway through the thin walls.

She frowned absentmindedly. Ever since her and Riz had had that talk in November she’d done her best to pay more attention to his habits and tendencies regarding his fucking insane schedule. Much like one of his boards, he kept all his belongings in an ordered chaos she doubted even Pok would have been able to wrap his head around. Sticky notes on papers, papers in folders, folders in binders, highlighters and rubber bands and paper clips in every color made their way from his backpack to his briefcase to his backpack again, leaving Riz his hands free, an intentional move on his part. Wouldn’t be a very good rouge if I couldn’t draw my gun because I’ve got someone’s homework in my hands, he’d quipped to her early in the year, before the bags under his eyes became darker than a bruise and his eyes twitched as much as they blinked, before Fabian started throwing parties Riz for some reason still went to and before Kristen roped him into-

The sound of a pin in the lock snapped her out of her own head and back into her apartment. The part of her that was Sklonda Gukgak: Mom of Riz noticed Riz stumbled through the door lacking his usual grace, most likely due to the backpack that had been progressively more and stuffed full of school supplies ever since Falinell (it made her wonder why he didn’t open his briefcase as often anymore). The part of her that was still Chief Detective Sklonda Gukgak of the Elmville Police Department noticed that in Riz’s hands were his lockpick that he used to enter the apartment and a pile of envelopes and coupon papers that was certainly their mail, bills and coupons and more bills and a dark red envelope with the official stamp of Aguefort Adventuring Academy on it.

And more bills. Great.

Her ear flicked again, and she absent-mindedly thumbed the arrow keys on her crystal laptop, the ones she knew didn’t work anymore, taking in her teenage son who was home before 10 for the first time in a while. “Hey sweetie,” she greeted, eyeing the papers in his hands. She always got the mail, on account of Riz just straight up Misty Stepping into the apartment in a rush between school and his office and school again. “I’m glad to see you, you hungry or anything?”

Riz stepped through the door, closing it behind him, looking down through the lenses of his glasses. “I’m fine, thanks mom. Jawbone ordered Bastion Market.”

She hummed, thinking of the two most recent text messages in her crystal.

3:06 pm

hi mom just finished yearbook club heading to mordred then stand-up night then home around 10 getting rides from fabian love you

4:48 pm

Hey Sklonda Jawbone here, Riz mentioned something about an event he was supposed to attend tonight but he’s decided to stay here for dinner instead, perfectly all right with myself Sandy and Lydia but just wanted to update ya in case you go looking. He’s not taking the grading news too well. I’m sure he’s told you about it but just a heads up. Working on a solution for the kids in the morning, yall hang tight 👍

Riz had, in fact, not told her about ‘it’ yet. Sklonda had had half a mind to call Sandra-lynn to see what Jawbone had meant, but decided to wait until Riz got home, although she had expected to see him way later, if not the next morning. She eyed the red envelope he still held in between his fingers, flicking the lockpick with a small thwack thwack thwack on the seal and wondered if that was ‘it’.

“Thanks for getting the mail, kiddo.” She knows he knows what she’s actually saying. You never get the mail, that’s my job, you’re home early, what are you doing?

What’s wrong?

He shrugged his seemingly 50 pound backpack off his 90 pound body, putting it on the floor but not taking his eyes off it. “Just thought I’d get it on the way up.” His voice says, steady and even-toned.

Former Chief Detective Sklonda Gukgak sees his body language say please don’t question me further.

Hah, Mom Sklonda Gukgak thought to herself. Not a chance in hell.

“Y’know,” she said, closing her laptop and pretending not to notice the way her son’s shoulders rose to his ears immediately. “Whenever you give me a time you’ll be home by, you’re never actually home at that time. And I know you’re very capable, Riz, but I worry about you.”

He muttered something under his breath, holding out the stack of bills to her, holding that damn envelope in his other hand, still not making eye contact.

Riz was a perfect rouge. He had a light step and a light touch and an impeccable aim. He had a brain that ran a million miles per hour and a goblin grit he inherited from his father. He’d been picking the lock to the apartment since he was twelve and learning to shoot a gun since he was thirteen. He was smart, sneaky and secretive.

But he didn’t keep secrets from her.

After Pok died, Sklonda had tried to keep many things from Riz. How scared she was. How exhausted she was. She would throw herself into work then throw herself into bed, crying with her face in Pok’s pillow as the signs of him faded from their life, as silent as she could so Riz wouldn’t hear. His desk became dusty, his razor sat unused, and his pillow stopped smelling like his cologne. She ran and ran and ran from the pain, never thinking about it, closing the door to his office where the ghost of her husband sat until Riz had tried to leave for school one day in shoes too big for him and a briefcase that hadn’t left the apartment in weeks.

At her protests, her nine-year old son had looked at her through his shaggy hair with big, sad, golden eyes. Pok had always been the one who gave Riz haircuts.

You never talk about him anymore, he said. You pretend you aren’t tired all the time and you pretend he’s not gone.

It hurts, mom.

Her beautiful, brilliant, investigative son had deduced what she wouldn’t, what she couldn’t tell him. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It’s okay if it hurts. I’m still here.

She didn’t open the door to Pok’s room, and she didn’t let Riz go to school with his shoes. But from that day on Riz toted a briefcase everywhere, and on his tenth birthday she gave him a haircut, his own pair of brown loafers (still a little too big, but at the thrift store you take what you can get) and took him to Cravencroft where she whispered all her deepest fears, laid them down on the dirt under her son’s knees and in front of her husband’s grave, confessed to the bone-deep exhaustion that weighed down her arms and her legs and her heart.

Gukgaks don’t give up, Riz whispered back to her, golden eyes shining like suns, an echo of his father’s favorite phrase. She looked at his close-cropped hair and saw Pok. Then she looked at the bags under his eyes and saw herself.

After that Sklonda only had one secret to keep, and Riz had walked into Pok’s room and blew the dust off his desk two years ago in a mighty whirlwind of a 15 year-old detective hot on the case. With the blood of a dragon still hot in her stomach, she and Riz had promised to never hide anything from each other. Not their stress, not their exhaustion, and not their thoughts. Never again did she try to hide her tiredness from Riz, allowing him to replace her cold cups of coffee and lead her to bed on the days when her feet felt like stone, and when he got too jittery and manic with a drive to solve whatever mystery he was currently on she pressed at him until he eventually spilled his guts and she could get him to call a friend for backup in getting him to sleep at least four hours a night. Riz had been raised to notice all he could and never back down, and she had been the one to do it. He had his adventuring party, and she had a new job and new friends, but it was still just the two of them at odds with a world not meant for goblins, two Gukgaks in a shitty apartment, one weighed down with something they wouldn’t confess to and the other who noticed looking up through golden eyes.

Sklonda held out her hand for the red envelope.

Riz, who told her everything, who called her in freshman year every time he discovered something or murdered someone, who as soon as he got back from his spring break quest told her about Pok, who told her about the Loams and the Spies Tongue curse and Fig’s (maybe) god, did not hand it over.

Not a chance in hell.

“I’ll be in my room,” Riz started, leaving his backpack by the sofa as he turned and started away.

“What’s in the envelope, Riz.” She said, pushing as much goblin mom into her voice as possible and knowing it worked when he froze in place. “I don’t like knowing there’s a secret you’re keeping from me.”

“It’s not important.”

“Of course it is.”

He laughed under his breath, still turned away from her. “No, I mean like, it’s really not important anymore. Nothing in there matters.”

“Riz…”

He laughed again, and something in her stomach, a liquid mix of hot worry irritation worry froze into something heavy and cold like dread as his laugh broke into a dry gasp, sharp and cutting. “It’s fine, mom, really.”

“I’m sure it’s not, whatever it is, but I’m sure it’s not that bad either. You can just tell me honey, you know I won’t ever be mad.”

Her words seemed to register and nudge him away from whatever he was spiraling towards, but she still felt her lungs tighten and the cold sharpen in the pit of her stomach. He turned to look at her fully, and she didn't flinch, would never shy away from her son, but his eyes were dull, darker than she’s ever seen, as dark as her own during those first few months of just her and Riz.

He handed her the envelope with shaky hands and in the blink of an eye was suddenly sitting down on the other side of the couch, pressing himself into the flat cushions like they could swallow him whole.

She opened the envelope with no small amount of trepidation, wondering what could be so bad that her son came home at a reasonable time at night.

Reaching inside, Sklonda pulled out two pieces of paper, one significantly bigger than the other. Looking at the smaller one first, her heart at first fell and the soared with pride as she beheld a small slip of paper detailing that her son had earned an A+ in his rouge track during his most recent semester. Student shows signs of mastery at mundane and arcane lockpicking. Student shows signs of mastery at detecting/disarming mundane and arcane traps. Student shows signs of mastery at dealing damage with both short and long range weaponry. Student shows signs of mastery at remaining unseen by others.

The list went on, and she turned to Riz with elation. “This is amazing, Riz!”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, sinking further into the cushions. “Read the other one before I vomit again, mom.”

She flicked open the larger paper with confusion, starting to read, and with every word the ice in her stomach turned back into red hot anger.

Dear parent/guardian,

Your child, Riz Gukgak, has been moved to PASS/FAIL academic status at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy due to FAILURE/EXPULSION of party member Kristin Applebees. PASS/FAIL academic status will nullify any and all extra credit earned from extracurriculars including athletic teams, school-sponsored clubs, and volunteer work in compliance with the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Your child will be allowed to remain at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy for the duration of their current school year. They must attend graduation and complete their teacher evaluation(s) in order to be accepted back into the Aguefort Adventuring Academy the upcoming year. If your child is a part of any multiclass program they will not be accepted back into their additional academic tracks and must remain only in their primary class the upcoming year. PASS/FAIL academic status cannot be removed or rectified from a student’s academic transcript with exception of the undergoing and completion of The Last Standard Examination. Please contact guidance counselor Jawbone O’Shaughnessy with questions, comments, or concerns.

Regards,

Interim Vice Principal Jace Stardiamond

Failure. Expulsion.

Kristen Applebees.

“-and I don’t even remember if we’re eligible to take The Last Stand this early in the year or if we have to wait until the last semester, but Kristin will be forced to leave this Friday, so if we can’t take it, I don’t know what we’ll do, Fabian, Gorgug, and Fig will be screwed next year and-“

Her blood was boiling, her ears were ringing, drowning out Riz’s voice.

Failure. Expulsion. Campaign manager. Someone else’s homework. People who call him The Ball.

Kristin Applebees.

“-hates her, and I don’t understand why, it’s just not fair-“

“It’s not fair,” Sklonda hissed out, a mirror of Riz’s, her snarl cutting through the air and making the words die on her son’s tongue. Forcing her hands to be still, pushing down the hot flash of rage in her belly, she schooled herself into the professionalism of Public Defender Sklonda Gukgak. Her son needed the cool head and steady tone that she prided herself on, her analytical eye and her forthrightness.

She could fret later. Her son had been blindsided by something she really should have seen coming ever since November, and it was time to address it.

She continued, voice low, watching her son’s posture relax bit by bit. “It’s not fair. Thank you for showing me, baby. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Riz turned to face her fully on the couch, knee nudging hers, and the hotness of worry irritation worry surged behind her eyes for half a second as she noticed a vein on Riz’s forehead that had never been there before. “You’re not mad?”

“No, kiddo, not at you. Never at you.”

“But…” He worried the chain of one of his necklaces between his teeth, a nervous trait he told her he’d picked up over the summer. He had sat up out of the cushions, but his knees were still drawn up uncomfortably, pressing his arms into his chest. “Without the pension, and without the extracurriculars… the scholarships-”

Stress was a thing Sklonda was familiar with. It lived in her apartment walls, on the underside of the peeling wallpaper. It filled the rooms in the flickers of darkness when the lights stopped working. It sat in the bottom of her coffee cups, and she’d admit that she found herself chasing it like her son chased clues, with a lot of intensity and only a little self-awareness. She knows her son too well, just like his mother and father in all the best and worst ways. Riz had too much in common with her, too many bad habits, and she’d sooner go back to her old job than ever let her son send himself more into the same stress-filled state she lived in for his party members.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, shuffling closer and putting an arm around Riz’s shoulders, wincing when she felt they were far too tight. Something in her quietly cooed when he laid his head down on her shoulder, glasses being knocked askew, strands of green hair falling and tickling her chin. “I’m not mad at you. I know how hard you’ve worked this year, and I’m so sorry Kristin messed it up for you.”

The shifting of chains between sharp fangs stopped. “...What?”

She rubbed his shoulder, keeping her voice low and soothing. “You’ve been doing far too much for her since the beginning of the year, Riz, it was really a matter of time before-”

“Mom, stop!”

Worry irritation worry confusion dread pooled in her gut as Riz shoved himself off her side and stood up off the couch furiously. “You can’t say that about Kristin, mom, how could you?”

She blinked hard. “What do you mean, how could- she got expelled, Riz, I know she and Fig aren’t academically inclined but c’mon, at least Fig is actually trying.”

“And what makes you think Kristin ‘isn’t trying’?” Riz scoffed, claws making quotes in the air with a harshness that rivaled when he tore into Kalvaxus two years ago. “She tries harder than the rest of us combined, she works so hard-”

“At what, Riz? Her campaign? The one that you run for her?”

“You don't get to talk about Kristin like that!”

This is exactly the opposite of what she wanted to happen. She wanted to hug her son and tell him it would all be alright while texting Sandra-lynn and Jawbone about what the heck The Last Standard Examination was and how Riz could take it. She could count on her fingers the amount of times conversations with Riz had turned to shouting, and even then they were always family matters, never about his party.

Sklonda loved Kristin, she really did. From the back half of freshman year until spring break of sophomore year Kristin spent a lot of time in Strongtower, rotating between the Faeth house and Gilear’s place down the hall before he moved out, wherever Fig was staying that week. Then it was down a few floors in Jawbone’s; sometimes she could still hear the shrieks of laughter echoing up through the thin floors as a gaggle of 15 year old adventurers ran through the halls far later than they were supposed to (not that she ever had the heart to tell Riz to keep it down when he hung out with his friends). Riz was a quiet kid before he went to Aguefort; Sklonda got the idea that Kristin had never been so. She always said what was on her mind, even if it was exceedingly inappropriate (she’s heard enough stories from Sandra-Lynn about her and Tracker during spring break). Always loud, always chaotic, a girl who jumped from idea to idea like she jumped from home to home.

That was a little cruel of her to think, Sklonda had been the one to order the raid on her house, after all.

Kristin had gotten a little quieter after spring break, Even Sklonda, whose building was no longer the Bad Kid’s default hangout spot, could see that. But she had also gotten a lot more chaotic.

“Kristin’s a good kid,” She said slowly, frowning when Riz shoved his hands under his glasses. “But you have to admit she struggles to stay on track sometimes.”

Riz glared at her through his fingers. “Doesn’t give you the right to insult her.”

“I’m not insulting her! It’s just the facts, sweetie, I know she’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose. But-” She waved the paper towards him, and he flinched away as though she were brandishing a gun. “-there’s two names on this paper, one being my son who joined every single extracurricular at the school and one being a girl who’s name my former coworkers apparently know due to several dropped charges of trespassing at the steelworkers factory?”

“You know I’ve probably got stuff on me too, mom, my midterm in December was to break into a warehouse downtown and plant a non-lethal arcane grenade set to go off when discovered.”

She remembered. It hadn’t gone off until February. He’d gotten an A+.

“That’s different, and not the point. Yours was an assignment for school, and Kristin’s apparently not been doing hers.”

“She’s got reasons to struggle, her god died, mom, I was there-“

“She can still cast, can’t she? You do everything for her, why can’t she at least maintain a C?”

“Oh my-” Riz dragged his hands down his face, muffling his next words. “You don’t understand-”

“Riz, I just worry that-”

“It’s not Kristin’s fault!”

“Then who’s is it?”

“I’m trying to explain-”

“Riz, don’t make excuses for her, she brought this on her-”

A sound filled the room, a short, sudden thing that sliced through the air. Riz’s eyes went wide, claws half curled at his side, and she realized the sound had just come from him.

Pressing his lips together as though he could stop the violent hiss that just came out of his mouth, Riz turned away and fled down the hall to his room, leaving his backpack and briefcase and a burning sensation behind Sklonda’s eyes that she couldn’t tell was rage or tears.

Another swing and a miss from Sklonda Gukgak about her poor, poor, boy.

A light flashed at the corner of her vision, startling her enough that her eyes were pulled away from the corner Riz disappeared behind. It was coming from within the couch cushions, and she reached in to pull out a blinking crystal.

10:02 pm

u alive the ball? kristin and I are still out here i wont leave until you respond

10:03 pm

i know u dont want to but if u told ur mom shed understand im sure of it

10:08 pm

we’re still herwogoTAKD2739/@(

10:08 pm

ITS KRISTIN I STOLE FABIANF S CRYSTL TMRW MORNIGN FIRST THIGN BOBBY DAWNS OFFICS I HAVW AN IDEA

10:09 pm

I L OVE OYU MAN THat assholes gonna pay for failing me on a fuckin technicality

What?

The blood rushing in her ears drowned out the incessant drone of the fluorescent light, but straining her hearing she realized that several floors down there was still the rumbling of a motorcycle.

Someone else’s homework. People who call him The Ball. Campaign manager.

Kristin Applebees had dropped Riz off from her own house, had stayed with Fabian and refused to leave until he texted them back, and here Sklonda was blaming her and probing at her son until he hissed and ran from her.

All sensation left from her, and numbly she got off the couch and started toward Riz’s room, crystal in hand. Stopping outside the closed door, Sklonda didn’t bother to knock. She knew he knew she was there.

The door didn’t open.

I don't understand, I don't have all the facts, I don’t know what’s going on, please tell me, she wanted to yell at the door like making more noise would save her from her mistakes.

“You left your crystal on the couch.” She murmured softly instead.

A pause. More rustling of papers, and when Riz opened the door he was holding his glasses in one hand and what looked like a map in the other, eyes dark. She held the crystal out.

He took it gingerly, and the numbness faded by just a little bit when his eyes got a little brighter, flicking over the crystal screen. He didn’t smile, but his face lost a little bit of tension.

He bit his lip and looked at her. “… I’m sorry I hissed at you. I didn’t mean to.”

She tried to smile, but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain, sweetie. I’m all ears.”

He glanced at his crystal again, something changing in his posture. For a moment she was afraid he would close the door again, and even though she wanted nothing more in the world than to demand answers, she would let him.

“I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore tonight.” He said slowly, cautiously.

Sklonda nodded, thinking desperately about asking Sandra-Lynn out for drinks tomorrow.

“I just…” Riz looked down at the map in his hand, the words Ashgrove Cemetery scrawled in his handwriting at the top. “We’ve all worked so hard, Fig and Kristin and everyone, and-”

He swallowed. “I was gonna find the rouge teacher, mom. And now it doesn't matter.”

She could think of a million things to say, but all that came out of her mouth was, “Gukgaks don't give up.”

Her brave, smart, resilient, beautiful son’s eyes filled with tears, and he shut the door to his bedroom.

Stumbling back to the living room, Sklonda clumsily grabbed her crystal from the coffee table and sent a text, claws clicking against the screen.

10:13 pm

Jawbone, Riz just got home. What is The Last Stand?

The rumbling of the motorcycle faded from earshot. A few minutes later, her crystal lit up.

That oh so familiar heaviness of exhaustion and fear, the stress that lived in the bottom of her coffee cups, in the papers spilling out of Riz’s backpack hit her like a truck as she read Jawbone's response.

The lights flickered, and in the flash of darkness she saw a vision of her son, slumped over a desk, a paper in front of him with a dark red A+ written in goblin blood.