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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Note

Leafy 🍃 again! I loved that 💗! Marvelous ending. Making Thranduil the dancer was the best idea EVER! now I must request for Leggy because I feel like I betrayed him lol! 1. Night out 2. Nurse 3. Did you enjoy yourself last night? Please and thank you!

Hello 🍃 anon...How are you, my dear?

It is still my honour and pleasure to try and come up with something for you :D

So, here we go...Legolas this time, huh? I'm sorry, this got a little out of hand 😞

Words: 2,5 k

Warnings: blood, injury, cursing, harassment

“Come on,” the woman who was not only your best friend but also had been your only supporter through nursing school whined, “one drink.”

“Do you know if the Polo-team won or lost?” you asked distractedly as you stowed away your books onto the clean shelves in your living room while pride swelled in your chest.

“What does that matter? Since when do you care about those preppy boys?”

“When they win, they stay in the clubhouse, but when they lose, they come to the shady part of town to drink away their shame,” you explained with a sour quirk of your full lips; she was right, you held nothing but contempt for those rich kids who had – unlike you – been given everything in life to succeed.

You had had to claw yourself through your education, juggling two jobs just to make ends meet, and it was certainly not interest that made you ask about them; this one night, after all those trials and years of struggling, you wanted to celebrate in peace.

Originally, you had planned to stay in and open the bottle of top-shelf wine you had bought for the occasion, but your friend was decided that the diploma displayed on your flaky walls deserved to be toasted in a public setting.

“It’s just down the road,” she coaxed, “come on, babes, it will be fine. Polo-assholes or not!��

Unable to deny her – after she had been by your side through every setback and challenge – you slung your bag across your body and nodded slowly.

“One drink!”

Of course, they were there.

They won as often as they lost, so there had been a fair chance that you’d have the run-down pub at the corner of your street to yourselves, but – as was typical for your luck or lack thereof – this had to be one of the days where everything went just wrong enough to annoy you without destroying all your plans.

A bunch of mopey, spoiled brats would not take away the monumental victory you had hewn out of the unyielding mountain that was life.

“Hey poppet,” someone jeered behind you and your friend.

The sullen group of youngsters groaned; apparently, the winning team had been petty enough to follow them all across town to goad them some more over drinks about their recent victory.

Unfortunately, those childish metaphorical pissing-contests became secondary as soon as fresh meat appeared and – in this moment – that late-night snack were you and your friend.

“Do you want to drink something?” a big, burly man with short black hair asked, his voice sounding cavernous and badly articulated.

“No, we’re here for the charming décor,” you shot back, acid lacing your otherwise own overly sweet tone.

“Ah, come on,” he laughed, but there was something sinister in the sound that made both you and your friend retreat hastily.

For a good while, you chatted about your new job at the hospital you had interned in for your studies, trying to ignore the less than discreet posturing of the two Polo-teams who tried to murder each other with looks alone.

“Is that the silver boy?” your friend asked and nodded at a tall, elegantly lithe youth leaning against a jukebox that hadn’t worked since before any of you had been born; indeed, Legolas was some sort of a myth amongst all the single women in the local school system, and right in this moment, he waited his turn to throw darts at a woefully worn board.

Born rich and privileged, he was fabled to be excessively kind and righteous, and – which contributed much more to his reputation and fame than any golden heart – he was blindingly obviously handsome.

People said that he took after his father – the kind of man that made every woman within his direct vicinity fall over her feet whenever he appeared – with his long, sleek, almost colourless hair and those huge crystal-blue eyes that were changeful and deep as frozen lakes and summer skies.

“It is,” you muttered quietly; he was the star player of his team – fused to his horse, fast, and astonishingly strong – and you had already met him once or twice in the emergency room when you had been on duty.

He had never been anything but kind and patient with you, even when his teammates had been complaining about the delays and tiny errors or hesitations on your part; hence why you felt incredibly spiteful when you rolled your eyes behind his back as if Legolas was the worst person in the world.

The plain truth was that you were envious; his appearance, his status, his competence, and his general demeanour were benchmarks you’d never reach no matter how hard you worked or how much you changed. Some people were just not born with that kind of potential.

In the meantime, the other team had found a lone girl drinking away her sorrow in the corner of the room; the same idiot who had harassed you earlier was now aggressively flirting with her and – through the haze and under heavy lids – she tried to frown discouragingly at him.

As was usual with that type of self-enamoured prick though, her evident disinterest only spurred him on, and he redoubled his efforts to win you knew not what; some men just wanted to triumph independently of what was at stake.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” you hissed under your breath, not sure if you were talking about the girl who had decided to get drunk in an unsavoury bar such as the one you were sitting in or the pompous ass who paraded around like a baboon.

“Maybe we should…” your friend started when he proceeded to poke the dazed young woman repeatedly.

“Leave her alone,” a cold, controlled voice cut through the ambient sea of noise, “she’s clearly not interested in you.” You had not noticed that

Legolas had stopped focusing on the dartboard and – instead – had made his way over to your side of the bar with the smooth, discreet movements of a predator on the prowl.

“Shut up, princess,” the man barked, annoyed by the interruption, “didn’t you have your fill of humiliation for today? Nothing better to do than to seek punishment?”

“There’s not much better to do at any time than to protect someone from being harassed by a dull meat-head such as you,” Legolas quipped, but you saw his fingers tighten around the single dart he was still holding; this was how all the stories you heard at work started and you tensed as all hell broke loose a single heartbeat after your prescient, almost prophetic thought.

As if nailed to your chair, you could but stare helplessly as that mooncalf of a man barrelled into Legolas at the exact same moment as he lifted his arm to deflect a potential blow, brow and elbow collided, and – grabbing onto Legolas’ shirt as he fell – the bigger fool of the two took down not only his opponent of the day but also an innocent table just doing its job.

Enmeshed and still struggling, both banged against furniture on their way down until they landed in a tangled heap of limbs on the dirty floor.

The cacophony of screams and grunts swelled and then was strangled into ominous silence.

“Jesus, Leg, you’re bleeding,” one of the silver boy’s teammates cried out as he extricated his friend from the human knot, “and you banged your head pretty good it seems.”

“Aren’t you going to check on him?” your friend asked you with a small nudge.

“I am off-duty,” you smiled mockingly, “and I’m sure he’ll be fine; he’s a sturdy fellow, I’ve seen him before…in the ER.”

Despite your words, you couldn’t help but throw a quick glance over at Legolas – swaying alarmingly – just to make sure that you had not completely underestimated the situation; also, there had been talk of blood and professional curiosity was rearing its annoying head.

A small snort of amused pity escaped you upon realising that this ridiculously sassy man had somehow managed to get his own dart stuck in his thigh.

Moreover, there was a visible bump on that fair brow now where Legolas had hit the edge of the crummy table on his way down; a smidgen of pity welled up in your heart and – when your friend announced that she’d make sure that the young woman would get home safely – you accepted that this jock was your charge for the night.

“We should take him to the hospital maybe?” one of his teammates mused aloud; the way he slurred his words told you that they had also indulged in more drinks than was reasonable to soothe their aching pride.

After a quick, perfunctory check, you shook your head: “His vitals are good; he needs to rest and put something cold on his forehead, but as long as he doesn’t get any worse than this, I don’t think that it’s worth spending hours in the ER.”

“But his leg,” the man whined, pointing at the dart still securely lodged in the muscular thigh, only – being slightly tipsy – he missed the moment to stop moving and nudged the thing hard enough for Legolas to grunt.

“Party’s over,” you finally declared after having assessed the damage superficially, “I live just up the street. I’m a trained and certified nurse as of today, and I’ll take a look at that leg. Good night, gentlemen.”

Legolas was considerably heavier than you had thought which turned dragging his dazed self along the pavement into the strangest choreography of your life.

“Hey,” he slurred, “you are my favourite nurse. I remember you from when my hand was…”

He held up said body part and you smiled at the thin, white scar crossing the back of it in a straight line; open fracture, not a pretty sight, but he had been very brave, and you had said so to your mentor at the time.

When he lay – stretched out and moaning quietly – on your couch, you frowned down at him.

“I am pretty sure that dart could transmit more illnesses than a damn mosquito,” you grumbled, “I’m going to take it out and you’ll get out of your jeans, please.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Yes, to get out of your slacks and let me see the wound,” you replied calmly, the professional persona taking over as you laid out your first-aid kit and carefully pressed a cold-pack that you kept handy for your wicked migraines on his swollen brow.

“Alright, beautiful,” he said with a lopsided grin and – without a moment of hesitation or the shadow of a doubt – he whisked off his trousers as if he was a professional stripper, revealing a pair of long, pale legs in an indecently tight pair of black boxer shorts.

The puncture was minimal and barely bled anymore, but you were meticulous in your efforts to clean the wound; it was a known fact that those darts were never cleaned, no matter what bodily or other fluids they might come in contact with.

“Am I alright?” Legolas asked after you had put a plaster on it and gave it a soft pat – out of habit more than real empathy – before getting up; in your concentration, you had almost – but not quite – forgotten that you had been bent over the open, naked legs of a stranger.

“Look me in the eye,” you demanded, shining a small flashlight into those blue depths that shimmered like underground caves in the garish gleam; his reactions were still very good, and you decided that it was most probable that all he needed was a good night’s sleep and plenty of hydration.

“Drink this!”

The order – soft but decisive – fell easily from your lips and he complied immediately, downing the water and electrolytes obediently.

“You are very beautiful,” he whispered as you spread a light blanket over him, trying to get him to rest.

“Ok,” you laughed, “maybe we need to get you to a hospital after all.”

“Why? I was in hospital when I first noticed,” he answered suavely, wrapping his long-fingered hand around your gracile wrist gently, “I am feeling alright; believe it or not, I’ve hit my head before. Father always said that he’s dropped me once too often when I’m being foolish…I am not entirely sure that he’s joking.” The soft smile – affection and intelligence deepening it – on his face told you that he was lying, but he had achieved what he had set out to do for you relaxed and didn’t pull your hand out of his grasp.

“You should rest,” you heard yourself prompt him.

“Will you stay and make sure I did not split my fool head?” he murmured, fatigue and pain making his words sound blurry and slightly hollow.

“Yes,” you promised, “I’ll be right here. Just ring the bell if you need anything.”

Of course, there was no bell, and you spent your night sitting in your armchair – dozing off every now and again – and keeping watch over that fallen angel who seemed to shine with a silver light coming from deep within him in the semi-obscurity of your living room.

Two things were entirely clear to you: you had chosen the right job, and Legolas was indeed as handsome as they all said.

Early in the morning, you stretched your tired limbs and padded into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for your little patient who was still fast asleep.

Or so you thought.

“Hey, do you have a painkiller?” a voice – thick with sleep but smooth as silk – resounded behind you and you grinned to yourself before turning around and pointing at the glass of water sitting right next to a small, white pill on the kitchen table.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” you asked ironically, but – to your surprise – he gave the question some thought, digging into the eggs and bacon despite the headache, before answering.

“Let me see, I’ve got my ass handed to me at the game, I had to interrupt an asshole who was harassing a poor woman, and I had a minor accident that was not even a cool, sports-related, heroic incident…”

“I thought it was rather heroic…Well, it was at least decent and that’s rare and valuable,” you interjected and earned a warm smile for it.

“But then,” he went on, “that lovely nurse I didn’t catch the name of appeared and took care of me, so I guess…I’d give it a 4 out of 10. By far not the worst night out I had.”

“I’m not sure I even want to know,” you mumbled, sliding the rest of the food from the frying pan onto his plate.

“How about I tell you about it over drinks? No darts, no brawling, no Polo team?”

His smile was disarming, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

“I guess we can do that, 24-hour observation and so on…” you agreed with a serious face that did not fool him for a single second.

So, that was that...😇

Legolas being a drunk idiot...but a good boy :D

I hope you liked this, I am always happy to hear from you my beloved 🍃 anon...

Have a lovely evening ❤️

@fellowshipofthefics here's another one :D

#fanfiction #the hobbit #lotr #hobbit #legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #TW: blood #TW: injury #Night out AU #nurse #chaos and bloodshed #Polo AU #LOOOOL

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kimoralov3 · 4 years ago

Text

Hello, Old Friend

Requested by: @nuclearpizza84

Word Count: 2449

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x gn!black!mutant!reader

espèce d'imbécile = idiot in french according to google translate

Warnings: swearing, talks of attempted murder, mention of racial slurs

Charles’ POV

“Who’s the next person on our list?” Erik asked as he sat in one of the chairs, propping his feet up on my desk. I pushed his feet off of my desk then picked up the notebook filled with mutants we could possibly recruit.

“Someone by the name of (Y/N) (Y/LN). They live in Atlanta, Georgia, and as of now it doesn't seem as if they have a job."

"(Y/N)? I used to know someone with that name. Do you have a guess as to what their mutation may be?" Erik sat up straighter in the chair. Oh, now he's interested now that this person has the same name as an old friend of his?

"No I don't, but I guess we shall find out soon. If we want to make it there and back before midday tomorrow, we should leave in the next 30 minutes." Erik nodded and stood up, walking towards the door. "What if this person happens to be your old friend?"

"If this is the same (Y/N) as the one I know, they'll need a lot more convincing than us being in the same boat as them. They're quite stubborn in that way." Erik said as he stopped and turned to face me.

"Like you?" I asked as I titled my head to the side slightly. Erik glared at me before exiting the room, not bothering shutting the door behind him. There was definitely something else going on between Erik and his supposed old friend.

----

Erik's POV

I stepped out of the car, buttoning up my coat as I took in my surroundings. We had taken a taxi to a small town, not too far from Atlanta. There was a corner store across from us, some restaurants down the street, and a combined book/coffee shop. Of course you would run away here. It's the perfect place to escape from your past.

"Well, it certainly is quite lovely here. According to Cerebro, (Y/N) comes here every other week to get some more books for the orphanage across town. Very nice of them." Charles said as he made his way towards the book/coffee shop. I followed him, taking one last look at the street before stepping inside.

One half of the shop was filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves, all marked with whatever genre of book filled the shelves. If we were to walk about a foot forward, we'd be standing directly in front of the white and grey display case. There was a counter attached where the coffee machine sat. The back of other side of the shop was filled with bean bag chairs and pillows, while the front is where the tables and chairs sat.

"Welcome gentlemen, would you like a cup of- Erik?" A voice said as they came from the back. I turned my attention towards the owner of the voice and smiled.

"Hello, (Y/N). How have you been?"

"Wow, he wasn't lying, he actually has friends. I'm impressed." Charles said with a hint of mockery in his tone.

"Erik, what are you doing here? I thought we agreed to never look for each other again." (Y/N) asked as they walked around the counter to stand in front of us.

"Well that was then, and this is now. We need your help." I said. They haven't changed a bit.

"Oh, I've heard that before. You can fuck off Erik, I'm never helping you again." They said as they glared up at me. You always did look cute when you were upset.

"I don't know what the history between the two of you is, but he's not asking for your help. I am. In return I'm offering to help you control your mutation. If we could sit down I could explain everything further." Charles said as he looked between the two of us.

"Mutation? What are you talking about, I don't have any type of mutation. And who even are you?" (Y/N) asked as they finally turned their attention towards Charles, giving him a once over.

"I'm Charles Xavier. You see, the three of us all have a gene- well, a mutated gene- that gives us specific abilities. I'm a telepath, and Erik can control metal."

"You're crazy. The whole time Erik and I worked together, he never showed signs of having any special 'abilities'. Other than being an asshole." (Y/N)'s lips curled into a slight smirk at the insult.

"It's not my fault you kept getting in the way." I said.

"You pushed me off a fucking train, Erik. I think it's safe to say that that wasn't my fault."

"You're the one who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. I told you to stay in the train and wait for me, but you just couldn't follow directions."

"So you decided that the safest bet was to push me off a moving train?"

"Exactly."

"Erik, you're not helping. (Y/N), I understand that you probably don't trust Erik, but you can trust me. If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility. So what do you say?"

(Y/N) took a deep breath, looking between the two of us. I was beginning to think that they'd say no and kick us out, but they finally came to a decision. "Fine, I'll help. As long as Erik doesn't double cross me. Again."

Charles looked at me expectedly, making me roll my eyes. Please, we need all the help we can get. Charles communicated to me telepathically. "Fine, I won't double cross you."

"Excellent! (Y/N,) let's take a taxi to your place so you can gather some of your things. On the way, I can tell you all about my research and what exactly it is we're doing here. I'm sure you'll find it all very interesting." Charles said as he led (Y/N) out of the shop.

"You coming, espèce d'imbécile?" (Y/N) asked as they got in the taxi. I snapped out of whatever trance I was in and got in the taxi.

----

(Y/N)'s POV

Charles had spent both taxi rides and most of the plane ride explaining his findings about mutants. To be honest, I didn't understand most of it, but he seemed excited to share this information with someone new, so I wasn't going to stop him. All I knew was that I had another reason for people to call me a freak. Once the plane landed, Charles drove us to his house- excuse me, I mean mansion. "Well shit. You lived here by yourself?" I asked as I got out of the car.

"Well, not entirely. I have a sister named Raven, you'll meet her soon." Charles said as we walked inside. I can't believe I'm in a fucking mansion. If only my parents could see me now.

"Oh good, you're back! Hello there, I'm Raven." The blond girl said as she smiled brightly and ran over to me and gave me a hug. I was shocked for a second, but I quickly hugged her back. Is this usually how people greet each other?

"I'm (Y/N), it's nice to meet you. You're Charles' sister, right?" I asked as she pulled away. She nodded and turned to Charles.

"The boys are sitting in the kitchen. Can you take (Y/N)'s stuff to their room while I introduce them to everyone else?" She asked him. He nodded and grabbed my suitcases, walking somewhere down the hall. She then turned to Erik. "Are the two of you getting along well?"

Erik scoffed. "Me and Charles or me and (Y/N)? Because me and Charles are getting along swimmingly, but (Y/N) is being a bit dramatic if you ask me."

"Says the man who spent 30 minutes crying because he lost track of some stupid guy." I shot back quickly. Erik's jaw clenched as he gave me a once over, then walked in the same direction that Charles went.

"Well that was rude of him. Anyway, come on, let's go meet the rest of the boys." She said as she grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the kitchen. One boy was standing in front of the sink with a beer in his hand, another one with glasses sitting at the table with a bunch of files in front of him, and a messy brown haired boy digging through the fridge. "Boys, we have a new friend. Introduce yourselves please."

"Alex." The boy with the beer said.

The boy rummaging through the fridge stood up, holding a bottle of water in one hand and waving at me with the other. "I'm Seth."

"I'm Hank, nice to meet you." He gave me an awkward smile.

"(Y/N), nice to meet you all."

"So, what are your special abilities?" Alex asked as he threw the bottle in the trash.

"Anatomy manipulation. You?" They all looked at me like I was crazy. Did I say something wrong?

"A-Anatomy manipulation? That's a pretty violent thing." Hank said as he pushed his glasses to sit correctly on his nose.

"Yeah, it can get pretty ugly. That's why I don't really like to use them. Hurting people isn't really my style."

"I learned that the hard way." Erik's voice came from behind us. I swear this man gets on my fucking nerves.

"Hey Erik. Did you need something?" Raven asked as she turned around to face him. She is definitely interested in him.

"I would like to speak to (Y/N) in my room."

"Why would I go anywhere with you. You gonna try and kill me again or something?"

"I promised not to, remember? Now come with me." He grabbed my hand and dragged me to his room, closing the door behind us and locking it. First of all, that's creepy. Second of all he could've given me a chance to walk without him dragging me along like I'm some child.

"What do you want, Erik?" I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I want to apologize. For being an ass. And for anything else I might have done that caused you pain. Will you forgive me?" He said. His words were rushed, he stumbled a little and he seemed out of breath. He must not be used to having to apologize for his actions. Typical.

I stared at him for a moment, switching my focus between his eyes before speaking. "Well I'm not going to say that I forgive you, but I'm glad that you decided to apologize. What made you want to do that?"

"Charles helped me see something that I couldn't see before. Although there's something I need to do to prove his theory."

"And what's that? Be nice to everyone for a day? Well good luck with that because the day that you're nice to people is the day that hell freezes over."

"Has anyone ever told you that you make things extremely difficult?" Erik asked as he looked down at you. Why did he have to be so tall?

"No, but then again I've never had to work with someone as stubborn as you."

"Oh I'm the stubborn one? Aren't you the one who refused to leave a bar until the bartender apologized for calling you that horrid word? Then when he finally did mutter out a half assed apology, you still wouldn't leave? Or am I just remembering things incorrectly?" Erik stated, his smile growing bigger at each sentence. I chuckled and shook my head.

"You see, that was different. He called us both slurs, and I wasn't just going to let him get away with that. Plus you know you enjoyed it, you sat there laughing the whole time." I said as I poked him in his chest.

"I always did love the way you would stand up for what you thought was right."

"Oh, so you don't hate me? Well there's a shock. You are full of surprises today, aren't you?"

"Why would I hate you? You're the closest thing to a friend I have at the moment."

"If I'm the closest thing you have to a friend, you seriously need to work on your social skills."

"Yeah, Charles said the same thing. Just a lot more complicated, honestly I stopped listening about a minute in. He tends to take the long way of explaining things."

"I think he's just excited to be with other people. He's been alone in this big house with only one other person to talk to. I'd be happy to be around other people too."

"That's fair. So what have you been up to since the last time we talked?" Erik asked as he sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. I sat down and smiled at him.

"You mean since the last time you tried to kill me? Nothing much really. As you see I moved to Atlanta, and I was working at a coffee/book shop. Sometimes I babysit the owner's kids while she goes away for work, and when I'm not at work, I volunteer at the orphanage. Pretty boring stuff if you ask me. How about you? Still chasing after Shaw?" I ask as I look up at him.

"Of course, he has to pay for what he's done. This is the closest I've gotten to catching him."

"I understand. But what are you gonna do once you finally kill him? Are you gonna move away again?"

"No, I don't think I will. I think I might stay here and help Charles with his plan- even though it sounds utterly insane."

"What plan?"

"He wants to turn this place into a school for people like us- his preferred term is mutant. He wants to help other people in the way that we never had help."

"That's actually very kind of him." Charles does seem like the kind of guy to put others before himself.

"Yeah, I guess. You should stay too, you've always been more of a people person than I."

"Maybe I will. It'd give me more time to annoy the hell out of you." I said as I nudged his shoulder. He chuckled and nudged me back.

"It's getting late, you should head to bed. It's been a long day." Erik said as he helped me off the bed.

"Yeah, I am getting pretty tired. Thanks for the trip down memory lane."

"Any time. Goodnight (Y/N)." He leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I smiled and waved as I walked away, in search of my new room. Maybe Erik Lehnsherr does have a heart under all those steel walls after all.

#erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lehnsherr #xmen #gn!reader #black!reader #mutant!reader #charles xavier #x men first class #x men universe #x men fanfiction #slight fluff #erik lehnsherr x black!reader #erik lehnsherr x mutant!reader #lokis-reindeer-games

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pascalscenarios · 4 years ago

Text

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You wake up at Frankie’s house. You spend the day with him, only for things to be finally revealed.

Warning: Swearing

Words: 4552

Authors Note: Whew... You guys aren’t ready for this one...Ahhh!!! Also I just want to say thank you so much for reading my fic. It means so much to me! Enjoy - k

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Chapter 5

The sunlight peeked through the window, shining down on the bed. Your hair was a mess, sprawled out and disheveled as your head rested against pillows. A white comforter covered your body. You slowly open your eyes to an unfamiliar bedroom. You should have felt scared or panicked when waking up in a stranger's bed, but you felt safe.

You could smell him on the sheets, it was Frankie's bed. You were at Frankie's house.

You laid there trying to remember the events from last night. You were partying with your friends in the club and somehow you ended up with Frankie? Your memories were blurred, only remembering bits and pieces.

You sit up in the bed, your head pounding. Looking down you noticed you were wearing an oversized grey shirt and sweatpants. These definitely weren’t the clothes you wore last night.

You look over to the nightstand to find two Advils and a tall glass of water. You pull the covers off from your body, tossing your legs off the side of the bed. You pop the pills in your mouth and chug down the water.

With the glass in your hand, you get up and walk over and open the bedroom door. The door led to a hallway with multiple other doors. Towards the end of the hall was a large opening, you assumed it was the living room because you heard that the tv was on.

Your feet padded against the wooden floors as you made your way to the living room. The local news was playing on the tv.

“Looks like sleeping beauty decided to wake.”

You gasped. Startled, you turn around to find Frankie leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand.

“H-hi” you stuttered out.

“Good morning.”

Awkwardness and silence filled the air like usual.

You slowly walk into the kitchen, passing him to get to the sink. You set the glass down in the stainless steel tub and turn to face him. He was staring at you while sipping his coffee, waiting for you to say something.

You stared down at your fingers as you fiddled with them. “Frankie..”

You swear he could read your mind because he started explaining everything that happened last night. He knew you were most likely confused as to why you were at his house.

“You called me last night drunk.” He says placing his coffee mug down on the counter. “You were lost and didn’t know where you were. I’m pretty sure you meant to call Alex, but somehow you called me? I came to pick you up, took you to eat at Dolly's. I was going to take you home, but I don’t know where you live and you were sleeping, so I brought you back to my place.” He explains running his hands through his moppy curls.

“I gave you clothes for you to change into, you took a shower, and slept in my bed. I took the couch.” He motions his head in the direction of the living room.

You look over, seeing a pillow and blanket bunched up on the couch.

“You know I would never-”

“I know, Frankie.” You tell him softly. “I trust you. I always have.” Your heart wrenched. The fact he drove all the way into the city in the early hours of the morning and took care of you meant a lot to you. It was proof that despite what happened between you two, he would always be there for you.

“So… “ He says trying to change the subject. “How’d you get my number?”

God this was going to be embarrassing.

Your face started to turn red as you spoke “Santiago gave it to me. I told him once a couple of years ago I wanted to call you. I’ve tried many times to press call under your name, but I always got scared and chickened out.” you confessed.

“Funny, I did the same thing too, asking him for your number, but never calling.” He chuckled, folding his arms against his chest.

“Huh...you know for the past 10 years I thought you’d never think of me again after that night.” You say you continued to fiddle with your fingers.

“I thought about you every day since then, Smiles. You were always on my mind...you still are.”

You glance up at him. Your heart was beating against your chest at his statement.

You both make eye contact. God, those gorgeous brown eyes that always made you melt. You were a sucker for his eyes, they were captivating. You could always read him from the look in his eyes. His eyes were sorrowful, but also longing.

You quickly divert your eyes breaking you from the trance you were in. What are you doing?! You’re going to get married! You can’t be thinking so deeply about someone else, let alone someone being your ex-boyfriend. Snap out of it!

“So why are your plans for the day?” Making conversation and acting like you guys didn’t have a moment just then. You walked past him and went to go sit on his couch.

“Uh, I don’t know.” He says trailing off, following you, plopping himself down on the opposite side of the couch, giving you some space.

“I was gonna drop you off at home whenever you are ready then go fishing out on the lake for a bit” he picks up the remote and starts flipping through the channels. He stops when he notices Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope is airing on tv.

You didn’t want to go home just yet. A few weeks ago you were dead set on avoiding Frankie, but something changed. You wanted to be in his company and spend time with him, at least for today.

“Can I go with you?” you asked.

“Go with me?” He sounded confused.

“Yeah...I mean like spend the day with you...go fishing?”

“You’re hungover and want to go fishing...with me…?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Um...yeah?”

“Don’t you wanna go home?”

“I mean if you want me to leave I can-”

“No!” he said a little too quickly. He clears his throat. “No, you can stay as long as you want, it's just” he stops. “Several weeks ago you were pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with me. You said things between us weren’t fine, we weren’t on friendly terms, and for me to stop wedging my way into your life.”

“I mean it’s a little too late for that now, you managed to crack your way in.” You sighed.

“Have I?”

“You were always a constant in my life until you weren't. You were the closest person to me besides Santiago. So naturally for me, as much as I want to push you away, I’m also drawn to you... You’re familiar. Since you came back into my life, you’ve been on my mind a lot lately..” you opened up to him.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know... That I’ve missed you, despite everything. Think it would be therapeutic for us to talk and hang out for a day.”

Frankie stayed silent.

“Okay,” he nods, giving you a small smile.

…

You were getting ready to leave with Frankie. You didn’t have anything else to wear, so you decided to just continue wearing his shirt and sweats. It was that or the outfit you wore last night. You patiently waited for Frankie in the living room as he gathered things he needed. You walked over to the front door, grabbing your bag that sat on the small. You reached into your bag pulling your phone out.

Your phone had TONS of text messages and missed calls from your friends and Alex. Your finger sliced against your phone screen noting the long list of notification banners. They had no idea what happened to you last night or where you were. They were worried, thinking the worst possible things that could have happened to you.

You opened your phone, pressing the call icon. Looking at your call log, you noticed you did call Frankie last night. Shaking your head, you clicked contacts, and pressed on Alex’s name. You pressed the phone against your ear.

The call picked up

“Alex-”

“THANK GOD! Where are you?! Are you okay?! The girls were looking for you all night, I was so close to calling the cops! I thought something terrible happened to you!” Alex was worried.

“I’m sorry, I got lost, but I’m fine,” you reassured them.

“Let me come get you, where-”

“Actually, I’m not coming home yet…”

“What? Why? What's wrong?” Alex asked, he thought you were being suspicious.

“I just need time alone…” You lied. I mean you did want to be alone... but with Frankie.

“Time alone? What I’m confu-”

“Alex, I promise you fine. I’m safe….I just need to be alone right now. I’ll explain everything later. I love you. I gotta go”

“Wait-”

You quickly hang up the phone and put your phone back in the bag.

You put your phone back in the bag. You didn’t want to tell him what happened over the phone. It was better to tell him everything in person. You’re debating if you wanted to tell him you were hanging out with Frankie. What he doesn’t know wouldn’t kill the right?

You decided to walk around the room, looking at the various knick-knacks and miscellaneous items Frankie had displayed on his shelves. There were photos of Frankie with his friends and family members, people you recognized. A framed photo caught your eyes. It was a child's painting, with various bright colors brushed on the sheet. In the middle was a handprint of a small child, and one of a grown person.

You continue to walk around the room when you accidentally step on something. You lift your foot, noticing a sterling silver ring on the ground. It was a dainty ring of a crescent moon.

Girlfriend, you thought. You remember him talking to someone on the phone the night with Santiago. It had to be a girlfriend. He has a girlfriend and he brought you home while you were drunk? That’s not good. Yet again you are engaged and here you are spending time with your ex-boyfriend.

But nothing was gonna happen with Frankie. You both hand significant others. You guys were friends… Well sorta. You weren’t sure what to call this relationship.

“You ready?”

You look at him. He was wearing his hat, shirt, jeans, boots, and a backpack hanging off one shoulder. He was also wearing a fisher vest, which made you giggle slightly. Frankie was always a nature boy.

“Yeah.”

“What’s that?” He asks nothing you holding the ring in your hand

“Um, a ring. I found it on the carpet.” You say walking over and handing it to him.

He signs. “I swear she leaves everything everywhere...” he mumbles under his breath, but you couldn’t hear what he said because it was so quiet. He sets the ring on the coffee table.

“Alright let's go,” he says.

…

The lake was peaceful. The water slowly moved. Nothing but sounds of nature. It was calming and relaxing. You and Frankie sat in a small boat out in the middle of the lake. Frankie placed a worm to hook his fishing rod. He stood up, casting his line far out, then sat back down.

You sat there with a fishing rod in your hand patiently for something to bite.

“It’s nice today.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You must love it out here. This is very you.” You chuckle slightly.

“I try to come when I can. They have a camping site, so I’ll come out on a weekend and camp sometimes.”

“Usually I’ll come here to think.”

“Think about what?”

He shrugged, reeling in his line slightly. “It depends. Sometimes I’ll come to think about stuff like what's going on in my life. Sometimes I’ll think about the past.”

Silence fell between the two of you.

“Hey, Frankie…”

“Yeah?”

“The questions I ask you today, can you be open and answer them honestly? I know that might be asking a lot but-”

“Okay…”

“Really?” You were a bit surprised. I mean he had been honest with you, but only really scratching the surface. You wanted to dig deeper.

“Only if you do the same.”

“Deal.” You smile. “ Did ever come out here to think about me?”

“Plenty of times, Smiles.”

“So, when did you get discharged from the military? I remember you telling Alex you fly cargo?”

“I got discharged a little while after I left. I got my pilot's license suspended for a bit. I managed to get it back and started piloting for a cargo company about 5 years ago.” He reeled him his line, then stood out to cast it again.

“Did you ever get that job you wanted, the one at the magazine company?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good for you. I knew you could do it. I remember you being so nervous when you did your interview.”

You chuckle slightly at the memory. “Yeah, it was such a mess then, but apparently liked me. It’s a great job. It’s funny actually, Alex’s tech company is in the same building. Our mutual friend introduced us to each other. We were friends for a while, then started dating two years ago.”

You were curious about his girlfriend. He never mentioned her. I mean the phone call at Santiagos and the ring at his house, he had to have a girlfriend.

“How about you? How long have you and your girlfriend been together?”

“My what? Girlfriend? I don’t-”

“Woah!” You said as you jolted forward your hands gripping your fishing pole. You quickly stand up as the fish keeps tugging aggressively on the end line.

“Reel it in Smiles!”

You pull up on the rod as you quickly cranked the reel handle.

“Oh my gosh!” You laugh trying your hardest to reel in the fish.

“Come on, keep going you go!” Frankie cheered you on.

You reeled the last of your line. The fish flew out of the water as you helped the fishing rod up high.

“Alright Smiles!” Frankie laughed as he set his fishing rod into a holder, he stood up quickly and grabbed your line, holding the fish up. You had caught a Bass.

“This one's pretty big!” Frankie grabbed the fish from the bottom of its amount as he unhooked the fish from the line.

“You wanna hold it?” he extends the fish towards you.

“No way! I’m not touching that!” you say moving your body away.

“Come on smiles, you gotta hold a fish you caught!” He says bring the Bass closer to you.

“Frankie! No! Stop!” you protested as you turned away.

“Give your hands,” he says holding his hand out.

“Frankie...”

“Come on, it’s just a fish.”

You sigh holding your hands out. Frankie placed the Bass in your hands. You slightly squeeze its body, making sure you have a grip on the fish. The was Bass was cold, the scales poked the palms of your hands slightly, and it felt slimy.

“See, not so bad!”

The fish began to move, wiggling back and forth in your hand. You let out a yelp, letting out a shriek as you quickly give it back to Frankie.

Frankie busts out laughing as he takes it from your hands.

“That’s not funny!” You shove him as you laughed slightly.

“Stop being such a wimp! It’s just a fish!” He chuckles.

“I told you I didn’t want to hold it!”

“How about you give it a kiss then?” He moves it towards you.

“Stop it! Frankie!”

“It wants a kiss, Smiles, do leave it hanging!” as he tries to get the fish as close to your face as possible.

“Give me a smooch!” he animates his voice, pretending the fish is talking to you.

“NO! Frankie Stop!” You shriek. Frankie gets closer to you, shoving the fish in the face. You reacted by pushing him, Frankie lost his balance and ended up falling over the side of the boat into the lake.

You gasp, your hands flying over your mouth. You kneel on the bench, leaning over the side of the boat.

Frankie’s head pops up out of the water, his Standard Oil Heating hat on his head.

“Frankie are you alright?!”

He takes of his hat, tossing it the boat. He shakes his head, getting so water out and hair out of his eyes, then takes his hands slicking his hair back so he could see.

“Yeah I’m fine, I wasn't expecting to go for a swim though” he laughs as he treads water.

“Here let me help you up” you extend out your hand for him to grab. He takes your hand but you immediately regret it after seeing the mischievous look on his face. You let out a yelp as Frankie yanked you in, flipping over the side of the boat into the water.

Your body hit the water, you come up with the bubbles gasping for air. Frankie is laughing as he treads beside you.

“Now we’re even!”

‘You punk! You did that on purpose! Meanwhile, I accidentally shoved you in!” you slick your hair back out of your face. You splash water in his face.

“Two can play at that game!” he splashes you back.

You swim over to him, placing your hands on his shoulder, then pushing down on him, submerging you both underwater.

Underwater, he grabs a hold of your waist pulling your body close to his. Coming back up you're both laughing, his arms wrap around your body, as your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your guys’ laughs subside as you stare at each other. You take your hand moving a piece of Frankie's hair, out of his face and swipe it to the side. Your heart was beating fast, as you both started to lean in for a kiss. Your nose touches, but you learn your head down, pulling always from him. Swimming back to distance yourself from him.

“I-I think you should take me home now…please...” you whispered.

“Okay…” was all he said. You two swam towards the boat. Frankie got back up first, then helped. He turned on the boat and stirred back to the dock.

…

You both were dripping wet, but Frankie managed to pack extra clothes. You changed behind some bushes into a very large and long shirt that went past your knee. Frankie changed into a plain t-shirt and jeans.

After changing in new clothes and packing things up, you guys headed on the road, Frankie driving you home.

It was silent in the car. Neither of you has anything to say. You had an ongoing battle raging inside of you. You couldn’t believe you almost kissed Frankie, but part of you wanted to. You were so confused about how you felt. You needed to go home and truly be alone to think things over.

“I’m sorry-” You both say at the same time.

You both sign.

“I shouldn’t have leaned in like that-”

“It wasn’t just you Frankie...It was me as well. I should have known better.”

“-Nothing happened.”

“But something almost did, Frankie.”

“So what is this? What are we?”

“We’re not anything Frankie”

“Bullshit and you know that! We may not be together anymore, but we’ve got history. We’re connected. Stop denying how you feel” he snaps at you.

“I don't feel anything, Frankie! You don’t know how I’m feeling! I’m getting MARRIED! MARRIED!” you reminded him.

You huffed, your arms crossed against your chest. You wanted to open but the car door and roll out. You both sat in silence for a good 20 minutes, only speaking when you were giving him directions to how to get to your house you were almost home. You both had cooled off from the argument, but the tension was still high in the air.

As you sat in the passage side of the truck, you noticed something. “Who’s this?” You asked, staring at a polaroid picture that was tapped on his dashboard. You only noticed the photo until now.

Frankie closed his eyes for a split second and deeply sighed. He thought about what you said earlier ‘The questions I ask you today, can you be open and answer them honestly’. He made a deal with you, he had to keep his word. He had to come clean and make things right with you.

You peel the photo off the dash to examine it better. The photo was of a young teenage girl laughing as she smiled. She was outdoors sitting on a log in front of a campfire. Her hands wrapped around a stick with a marshmallow at the end. Behind her, there was a tent pitched up, woods, a lake, and an orange sunset sky that made up the rest of the backdrop.

“That’s my daughter.”

You stopped fidgeting with the photo. You quickly turn your gaze towards him. He didn’t look at you, he stared at the road ahead, his hands placed at the bottom of the steering wheel. You examined the photo some more. This girl had Frankie written all over her. The girl wore his Standard Heating Oil hat and the way her eyes squinted as she laughed was exactly like Frankie.

He didn’t have to tell you because you knew. It clicked. This was it. The answer you’ve been dying to know for years. She was the reason why he left you. Your eyes began to well up with tears. So many thoughts were circling in your head. You were rendered speechless. You had so much you wanted to say but didn’t know where to start. You didn’t know how to feel. You felt overwhelmed.

You kept your eyes on the photo.

“2005, our first break up. When the long-distance wasn’t working when I was stationed halfway across the country.” He began to say. He paused for a moment. “I dated someone for a few months after we broke up, but it didn’t work out with them. A little while after, we got back together. I had no idea she was pregnant. She didn’t tell me. I didn’t find out until she passed away in an accident. I was contacted, they told me I had a 5-year-old daughter and if I wanted to care for her I needed to do a whole bunch of legal stuff to gain sole custody. If I didn't, she would have gone into the foster care system. The night I left you, that’s where I went. I drove across the country to get her.”

You stuck the photo back on the dashboard, then turned to look out the window, watching the tree fly by as he drove down the highway.

“What’s her name?” you asked.

“Lilah...She’s fifteen.”

It was silent in the truck. Frankie said nothing more letting you take in everything.

You sat there thinking about what he told you. You put yourself in his shoes, imagining if you were in his situation at the time.

“I’m not even mad.” You admitted.

“Y-you’re not?”

“I’m more hurt than I am mad, Frankie.” Tears rolled down your face. “I don’t blame you for what you did. You have a daughter and that was your priority. It was important for you to get to know her, take care of her and be her dad.” Your lips began to tremble more tears spilled from your eyes. “I’m just hurt at the fact you didn’t think you could tell me. God, Frankie you should have told me!”

“I was scared! I-I was so scared to tell you! I didn’t know what you were going to think or say! I was afraid you would’ve wanted nothing to do with me after you found out I had a kid with someone else! O-or what if you didn’t want to raise her with me?! It was easier for me to leave you before you did it to me!”

“Frankie, you think I’m THAT terrible of a person? Do you really think I would have walked out on you if you told me? I told you that night, whatever it was, I would have worked it out with you! You had a daughter for crying out loud! Yes, I admit I would have been taken back and shocked, but I would have supported you! I would have raised her and loved her my very own. There's no way I would have turned her away, she half you of you, Frankie.”

“If-If I could go back a-and change things that happened between us, how I ended things-” his voice was shaking, stuttering as he spoke.

“But you can’t Frankie! You can’t change the past! What you did was done, and you’re going to have to live with that! You’re going to have to face the fact I’m getting married! What happened, happened, We just have to let it go...We both have to move on and let each other go”

By the time you said that Frankie pulled up in your driveway, parking his truck. You quickly grab your bag and hop out, closing the door.

“Smiles!” He yelled after you, getting out of his truck, and shutting the door.

You were walking up the walkway when he grabbed your arm. “Smiles-”

“DON’T touch me!” You snapped at him.

“We’re not done talking!”

“There’s nothing to talk about! Leave! Just get out of here!” you cried. You were feeling so many different emotions, you were confused about how you felt, you just wanted him to go so you could be alone. You turn away, walking to your door.

“I love you!” he shouted

Your eyes widen, whipping around quickly. “NO! You don’t get to say that! Not now! What do you want me to say? What the fuck do you expect me to say?! That I love you back?! I can’t! I can’t say that!”

“You can’t or you won’t?! I know deep down in there you love me. I know you do, but you’re afraid to admit it! Too damn scared to admit that you still have feelings for me!

“FRANCISCO MORALES LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND GO HOME!”

Alex came rushing out of the house, hearing you yell. He looked at the both of you. You were a crying mess, your hair damps and wearing a T-shirt. Frankie stood there with a pained and angry look on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” Alex had a million questions running through their head but quickly rushed towards you, putting themselves between you and Frankie.

“Baby you alright? You okay?” he asked, cupping your head in their hands.

“Smiles-” Frankie starts walking towards you.

“You need to fucking leave.” Alex turns around, protectively standing in front of you.

Frankie stands there staring at you. Your lips tremble as you avoid his gaze.

“Just go Frankie…” you whispered.

And just like that, he left. Frankie got back in his truck and drove away.

You started to break down, hysterical crying in front of your house. Your chest felt tight as you sobbed. Alex took you into their arms, comforting you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He says rubbing your back. “Let’s go inside.”

tag // @icanbeyourjedi @im-an-adult-ish

#triple frontier #Frankie Morales x Reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years ago

Note

Can I get a modern AU Levi scenario where reader and Levi are coworkers and Erwin and Hanji are trying to set them up knowing Levi has a crush on reader?

I really like ur stories btw!! <3

AN: Thank you so much--I’m glad you like them!!

So...I have never done a coffee shop AU...now is THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY. This occurred to me when I sat there after reading this trying to figure out what job they shared. So yes, I’m going cliché for this one because I can’t resist the opportunity to FINALLY DO IT!!! Also, in a way, its also Levi finally getting his tea shop (Cries softly behind the laptop screen).

Okay, quick rundown of who does what and where so I don’t have to spend time on it in the fic: Levi--Owner of the coffee shop--though he also works there. he doesn’t deal with the people, though, just makes the drinks, namely the teas. Erwin--Business Partner, mainly the one who made the money work to get the store open and running. He also works in the back in the little bakery/kitchen he convinced Levi to incorporate so it wasn’t just drinks and there was something to eat as well. Hange--Cashier. She’s the bubbly chatty on that people get to interact with and deal with. Occasionally helps with the drinks if its busy and she has a moment. You--Pick Up Counter/Waitress and Drinks. You get people their drinks, the second face they see/person they deal with, and you help Levi with the drinks, leaving the teas to him since its his preference and specialty and making whatever else is needed.

Also I don’t know why this ended up feeling like a sitcom...and how we ended up seeing more from Hange and Erwin than Levi and Reader XD

Fanfic One-Shot Request is below the cut.

~*~The Perfect Blend~*~

“They work so well together.”

“I have yet to find a flaw--it’s like perfect harmony. It’s ridiculous and it makes me so jealous.”

“Well there is one flaw.”

“You mean the fact that he hasn’t--?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I’m running out of ideas of how to fix that, and yours are just getting crazier and crazier.”

“I still suggest we lock them in the back cooler until they can work things out. Maybe we’ll get lucky and for warmth, they’ll--”

“Oi! Eyebrows! Shitty Glasses! The morning rush is going to start any minute now--stop gossiping and get back to work! Erwin, don’t you have another batch of scones still in the oven in the back? Hange--you still haven’t fixed the menu for the new week, get on that! Now!”

Erwin sighed and let out a soft ‘stubborn man’ before he disappeared into the back to make sure the scones were all right. Hange, however, pouted in the face of Levi’s knowing glare.

“Aww, Levi, come on, loosen up a bit! It’s a Tuesday, it’ll probably be really q--”

“AH! Don’t you dare!” you suddenly shouted at her, running through the back room door with a bag of espresso beans in on arm and a box of coffee cup sleeves tucked under the other. “The last time you said the Q word, we had to stay three hours late closing up and cleaning because we didn’t get enough time to breathe, let alone keep the place from turning into a disaster!”

Hange huffed. “That’s just a bunch of superstitious nonsense. Saying a word doesn’t effect whether or not we have a busy day.”

“Speak for yourself--jinxes are a thing,” you returned, getting up in front of the coffee machine and filling up the espresso side. “Also, Levi, we’re out of decaf beans. Well, almost--what’s in the dispenser up here is the last of it.”

“What? I thought there were at least three more bags back there,” Levi said with a frown, turning away from filling his tea assortment up front to look at you with a spark of concern. You didn’t get a lot of decaf orders, but orders were also fairly unpredictable--now that you didn’t have any more, today could be the day for a rash of decaf coffee orders.

“Well, I didn’t see any. I looked everywhere they might be, so unless someone moved it somewhere it shouldn’t be...”

Levi sighed, following you into the back to help see if the two of you could find the missing bags of beans. Once they disappeared from sight, Erwin stuck his head out the little window into the kitchen for communication between the front and back, one of the sliding doors in the back of the glass display cases for the baked goods open with a tray of scones sliding into place before he gave Hange a pointed look, brought his hands together with his palms faced outwards before he gave an exaggerated pushing motion.

“I know I’m usually the one for the crazy impulsive things, but we really shouldn’t lock our two drink makers in the cooler right before the rush hour,” Hange said with a sigh. “And it was such a perfect opportunity, too...”

“Did you hide the coffee beans?”

“Maybe.”

“You should have done it near the end of the rush when no one was looking. Then they might have gone looking for it when we could afford to shove them in a freezer for a while.”

“Erwin, you’re starting to sound like me.”

“It’s been a year and a half, Hange, I’ve lost my patience for this, it’s getting ridiculous.”

“We might have to stage a straight up intervention. Before that, do you think we could set them up on a blind date? Do you think they’d take that bait?”

“Levi knows what we’ve been doing, he’d see right through it...Hange, it’s taking them a while, where did you hide the beans?”

“In my car. They’ll never find them until I want them to. What if we just tell Y/N? Shorty obviously isn’t going to make the first move, so maybe try to get her to?”

“No, I don’t think she will make the first move, either, they’re both too damn shy. Hange, you should probably smuggle those back inside, it really is almost time for the morning rush, and we might need it.”

“Don’t worry about the beans, you just worry about your pastries.”

Erwin raised an eyebrow at her tone, noting that she was pretty much standing in the same place she’d been in when Levi snapped at them for gossiping when they should have been working. “Don’t you have a menu to update.”

“Pfft,” she replied, looking like she was about to laugh it off before a now disgruntled Levi appeared through the back room doors, and she slunk away to at least look like she’d been doing it all this time.

“Just keep Hange up to date on how much decaf we have left so she knows when to stop selling it. When it’s out, it’s out,” he was telling you, going back to his little section behind the corner where he would stay during the rush to make the teas. The door opened with a quiet whoosh, and Hange scrambled down from where she’d been scrawling the new specials for the weak on the chalkboard menu so she could wait on the customer that had just walked in.

And just like they’d been anticipating, the rush began a few minutes later after the first arrival.

When there was a lull in the constant flow of business that constituted your morning rushes, Erwin poked his head out of the back to gesture you over to him.

“Y/N, I need a second pair of hands back here, just for a second. Hange, can you--?”

“On it!” Hange said cheerily, taking over your position behind the coffee bar while you hurried into the kitchen to help Erwin with whatever he was having trouble with.

Surprisingly, when you came into the kitchen, it didn’t look like he had anything going. And looking over at the glass sliding back doors to the pastry shelves, it looked like everything was appropriately stocked. He didn’t look like he was in the middle of cleaning--everything looked spotless, his supplies neatly organized and filled...so why were you back here?

Erwin turned to face you fully once the kitchen door swung shut behind you, heaving a sigh as he wiped the remnants of flour on his hands off on his apron. “Listen, Y/N, Hange and I have been talking about how to go about this subtly for a while now, and I’m of the opinion that subtlety isn’t going to work, so--”

“You two are dating!” you gasped, interrupting him with a flash of excitement. With all the whispering between the two and the times they would stow away leaving you and Levi alone to do who knew what, it made you start to wonder. Especially with the little glares you caught Levi giving them every now and then, like he knew what they were up to and didn’t approve for some reason--or at least didn’t approve of it during working hours.

Erwin blinked, taken aback for a moment before he regained that unfaltering composure of his. “Ah, no. We’re not. We can discuss where you got that idea later, but right now, we need to keep this quick before another rush comes in. Do you like Levi?”

You let out a startled laugh at his question, for a moment believing he might be messing with you before you saw the serious look in his eyes. “Do I...um...Why, why would you need to know that?” you asked, a blush starting to creep up in your face.

Yes, yes you did like Levi. But you tried not to think too much about it. He was kind of your boss as much as your coworker, and those thoughts, that you didn’t think were returned, would only be distracting if you let them slip through while you were working together. And you two worked well together, like clockwork, perfectly in sync behind the counter no matter how fast paced and complicated business got. You were rather proud of it, actually. And you didn’t want to disrupt that, afraid to cause a ripple, or rather a wave, in the calm waters between you two if the feeling wasn’t reciprocated.

And sure, Levi and Erwin owned the place, it was a small privately owned business, not some franchise, so maybe a workplace romance wouldn’t be some big HR mess here, but if something did happen, and then something went wrong, it might ruin the good thing you all had going on here.

“I’m asking because Hange and I are certain that Levi likes you, as well,” Erwin said, clearly deciding based off your reaction that you did like him. Especially after he just outed how Levi felt about you like that, your eyes widening as you stared blankly at him. “But both of you are two shy and stubborn to do anything yourselves, and Levi’s been resistant to any of our nudges to get him to make any kind of move. We’re both at the point of locking you two in a room together until you both come clean, but, this is probably the much more tacit and practical approach. I figured if Levi won’t make a first move, perhaps you should just be told up front, so maybe you will.”

What you were not aware of, was that a few feet away from where Erwin and you were having your conversation, Hange was doing something similar with Levi as the two of them made coffees and teas, speaking around the moments where she had to pause and shout out an order or dash off to take a table their drinks to have a much more...to the point conversation with Levi.

“Levi, you’re stubborn, and lovestruck, and it’s too painful to watch you two awkward love birds waddle around blindly like this anymore. You’re worse than children.”

“Hange, we’ve already talked about this, it’s none of your business, stay out of it,” Levi grumbled under his breath, at least taking pains to keep his voice lowered while talking about personal matters at work, even if it was to try and keep Hange quiet.

Hange didn’t care, though, and apparently she wasn’t messing around today, either.

“If you don’t tell her yourself soon, Shorty, I’m going to tell her.”

Levi set down the empty cup he’d just grabbed for another tea a little harder, glaring at Hange with a sharp look. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. You like her, Levi, and she likes you--it’s obvious. Just ask her to go do something with you, it’s not that hard,” Hange stressed to him, assembling some of the teacups that had Levi’s freshly made tea in them to take out to some of the customers that were sitting in and not grabbing their drinks to go.

“Talk to her,” Hange stressed before taking off with the drinks, a big smile and playful laughter for the guests she entertained along the way.

“It’s not that simple,” he muttered under his breath, keeping his eyes down on the tea he was making as he thought of the ultimatum Hange just gave him. As much as he kept hesitating and doubting himself when it came to confessing how he felt about you, and as much as he struggled to even think of what to say, he did want to finally say something. Every time he tried, though, the words got stuck in his throat, or what he planned to say turned into something else entirely at the last second, something that had nothing to do with telling you how he felt. However, he did /not/ want someone else confessing his feelings to you for him, even if it was meant to push him to act. He wanted to do that himself. So Hange threatening to tell you herself was actually a pretty smart move. He hated how pressured he felt to say something, now, though.

But he really had been taking far too long to get this out between the two of you. It was time he did something about it. Now he just had to do it...even though he had no idea what he was doing. What to say. What they should do. What it would mean. If it would impact the two of you negatively, if it would even work out.

He was getting far too deep into his own head over this. He just needed to...rip the band aid off. Get it out and between the two of you. As soon as Erwin returned you to the front, he would ask...ask...well, he was going to try and ask you out. First he had to make sure you had time, though.

As if on cue, you came out of the kitchen with lightly flushed cheeks, looking preoccupied with your own thoughts as you robotically took your usual spot next to him at the coffee bar. For a minutes, Levi kept glancing at you, suddenly hesitating because of the look on his face. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything, it didn’t look like you were open to conversation even right now. And you seemed a little closed off to him, like you were keeping to yourself for some reason.

Ah, fuck, but if he didn’t do it now, he might chicken out. Or Hange might get impatient and spit it out anyway.

Levi scowled into the cup in front of him as he tried to figure out what to do before he just blurted out the sentence without even looking at you, ironically at the same time you tried to speak to him.

“Levi, can I ask you some--”

“Are you doing anything this week?”

Levi realized he’d just talked right over you, and he immediately started kicking himself, keeping his eyes glued to the tea instead of you as his cheeks started to color and betray his embarrassment as he scrambled for words. Did he apologize? Keep talking? Explain himself? You weren’t saying anything. Wait, were you confused? He knew your schedule--well, your work schedule, he was your boss.

“I mean, besides work--I know when you work, obviously, I just meant--mean...shit...I’m sorry, I interrupted you, um...What did you want to ask?” he said, hating himself more and more as he stumbled through the awkward words, closing his eyes and cursing himself.

“I, um...I was going to ask if you...if you liked...” Levi looked up sharply at you in surprise, heart skipping a beat as he met your gaze. You stuttered at the eye contact, a strange little noise coming out of your throat as your cheeks burned a brilliant shade with the intensity of your blush. “...would like to do something this week, actually. Maybe see a movie, or grab something to eat together or...or go to the library.”

Levi stared at you. “The library?”

Your gaze flickered up at him, appearing to scream ‘I don’t know, I panicked!’ so loud that he didn’t even need to ask.

You were both complete messes, weren’t you?

“We can. Just...just pick a day, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Saturday night?”

“I can do that.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

A silence settled over the two of you, and you both went back to what you were doing, butterflies in your stomachs as you snuck glances at each other from the corners of your eyes, Levi trying to hide a subtle, pleased smile, and you brightly beaming but chewing on your lip as if you were trying to rein yourself in and have at least some decency. It didn’t work of course.

Was that entire conversation...really that easy? After all this time?

Hange was leaning against the wall next to Erwin’s little window, both of them staring at the two awkward lovebirds in a mixture of satisfaction and bewilderment.

It was Hange who spoke up.

“I don’t know the bigger pair of idiots are--those two who took so damn long just to say something so simple to each other...or the two of us that didn’t realize that it was as simple as telling them to talk to each other.”

“...You should probably put those beans back before Levi figures out what happened to them.”

“Shut up, you’re the one who wanted to lock them in a cooler,” Hange grumbled, quickly slinking away to try and sneak the decaf espresso beans back into the back storage without Levi noticing.

An endeavor doomed to fail from the start, but at least when he did catch her sneaking back inside with the decaf espresso beans in her arms it was quite a bit of entertainment for the regular customers who knew about Levi’s stricter, surlier attitude and Hange’s antics.

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds

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gureishi · 4 years ago

Note

Ohhhh, requests? Requests!!!! ❤️

We all know and love SE and the Choi family (Mc, Saeyoung and Saeran living together in the bunker).... But what about. Other way arround?

Saeran after ending, with saeran and saeyoung making amends, and you finally befriending and getting to know the true person behind 707.

Im happy with whatever ideas you have for this, but if you need more guidance... A scene between saeyoung and Mc, talking? Saeyoung thanking mcfor making saeran happy and feeling like he failed as a brother for not protecting him, and mc being all sweet as she is reassuring him that it's OK and that they are happy now and just fluffy??????

Gosh, I wrote a lot, sorry.

Oh wow. I ADORE this request. Thank you for bringing me this sweet idea. ♡

I love envisioning their lives together post-AE, and it was so much for fun me to imagine this tiny little slice of that.

after

Saeyoung & Reader (platonic); Saeran X Reader (background), G, words: 2355

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Today there’s one of those early-winter snows where the flurries get stuck in your hair but the ground’s not white and beautiful, just cold and damp. The parking lot is nearly empty—apparently no one else wanted to go out today. Personally, you can’t understand why. You love the way the sky’s a bright white and how the biting wind makes the tips of your ears pink.

Saeyoung, who’s been walking a few paces ahead of you, turns around in time to see you stop and catch a snowflake on your tongue. He raises his eyebrows; he’s got his hood up and there’s a light dusting of snow on top of his head, like powdered sugar.

“I was gonna ask if you regretted coming along now that it’s snowing, but I guess I have my answer.” He’s got a complicated look on his face, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to laugh at you or not.

“I have no regrets!” you sing, and then he does laugh, shaking his head indulgently.

“Come on,” he says. “Your shoes are getting wet.”

“Your shoes are getting wet. Also your head. Who goes to the store in just a hoodie in the winter?” But you run to catch up with him, splashing in the little puddles that have collected in the uneven pavement.

“It was the hoodie or the floor-length pink fur coat, so I went for the hoodie,” he says, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

The automatic doors slide open for you; he grabs a shopping cart from the assortment parked just inside the door. You walk beside him, feeling a little awkward. Grocery store etiquette, you think, is such a personal thing. Saeran, for instance, likes to go slowly through the store, lingering in each area—looking for inspiration, sometimes checking recipes on his phone. You like to move through the store at random, picking out items that strike your fancy. These methods work surprisingly well together—perhaps because Saeran finds it charming when you come running up to him with a strange new fruit in your arms.

Saeyoung, it seems, has neither a list nor a plan. He pushes the shopping cart lazily with one hand, heading vaguely toward the nearest aisle. You’re tempted to guide him in one direction or another, but you also don’t want to be a nuisance. This is his shopping trip—he was the one who announced he was going to the store; you were the one who’d insisted on tagging along.

“Are you sure?” he’d asked then, hesitating, one hand already on the doorknob. “You don’t need to! I can get whatever you—”

“I want to,” you’d said firmly, jumping off the couch where you’d been lying with your feet in Saeran’s lap, reading a book. It wasn’t that you needed anything in particular from the grocery store or that you didn’t trust Saeyoung to find whatever was needed for the house (though, in retrospect, it wasn’t that you did trust him, either). It was just…

In the few precious days that you’d been living in the bunker with the brothers—in a world that was suddenly so peaceful you couldn’t quite believe it—you’d begun to realize something: in spite of the hours of phone conversations and chats you’d shared with the enigmatic and charming 707, you actually hardly knew Saeyoung at all.

“So, uhhh,” he begins, a bit uncomfortably. You glance at him askance; his cheeks are pink. “What do we need, anyway?”

You laugh—you can’t help it. “What were you going to buy if I didn’t come with you?”

Saeyoung shrugs, looking down. He’s definitely blushing. “I was gonna…wing it.”

Maybe it’s his inexplicable shyness with you and maybe it’s your genuine love of grocery shopping, but your confidence is bolstered. You take the cart from him and he relinquishes it gratefully, falling into step behind you.

“First we’re going to get produce,” you tell him, and he nods eagerly, bouncing on his heels. He honestly looks excited that you’ve taken the lead; you make a mental note about this. At home, Saeyoung is often in charge—of little things, like what movie you’ll all watch together—because he is boisterously enthusiastic about everything and you and Saeran are more subdued. But here, without his twin, outside of his domain, he is suddenly much less confident.

You select a few types of squash; he watches somewhat reverently. “How do you know what to get?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“Practice, I guess,” you say. “I have in mind a couple of recipes we can make this week, and there are some staples it’s always good to have…” You pause, realizing something, your hands full of squash. “Saeyoung, can I ask you something?”

“What? Yeah!” He responds a little too readily and you know he’s trying to mask his awkwardness. It’s endearing.

“You lived alone for a pretty long time,” you say thoughtfully. You survey the selection of cabbage. “Didn’t you…buy food? To eat?”

He laughs, runs a hand through his already-messy red curls. “God Seven doesn’t need food to live!” he sings, and it’s in the tone of the 707 you’d developed a strange friendship with during those days you were at Mint Eye. You know now that Saeyoung was there, even then, under all that false positivity and diversionary teasing.

“You do, though,” you tell him. You hand him a head of cabbage.

Your firm tone seems to quell him. He looks down at the cabbage.

“I ate snacks, mostly,” he says, a little more quietly. “Sometimes Vanderwood got frustrated and brought me other things to eat.”

You turn away to hide the look in your eyes from him. These poor, poor boys.

“You two!” you explain in mock-frustration, pushing the cart to the next refrigerated shelf. “So you were living on junk food while he was keeping himself alive with caffeine pills. What am I going to do with you?”

Saeyoung bounces behind you, still holding the cabbage.

“Feed us!” he says. You roll your eyes and tear a plastic bag off the role beside the shelves.

“Put the cabbage in the bag,” you tell him. He does.

You gather a few more fruits and vegetables and Saeyoung asks about all of them; you’re amused when he doesn’t know what a persimmon is.

“So besides chips and stuff, then, what do you like to eat?” you ask him, pushing the cart into the large, open area where meat and fish sit on ice, row after chilly row.

Saeyoung hums thoughtfully, peering at a particularly large fish, complete with eyeballs and everything. “This is creepy,” he says. “Can we get it?”

“We…can,” you say. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

He walks a little ahead of you, and he looks at each different type of meat with such curiosity. They’re both like this, you think—so full of wonder over basic, mundane things. Saeran was in awe the first night the three of you settled in on Saeyoung’s huge couch to watch TV together. And now here is Saeyoung—who’s had considerably more freedom than his brother—staring at an assortment of different cuts of meat like he’s in a museum.

“I’m not sure,” he says finally, tilting his head to the side. “I love chips, and, you know, fish-shaped buns…”

“But is there a meal you like? Maybe from, I don’t know, the past…?” You regret the words as soon as they’re out of your mouth.

Saeyoung laughs bitterly. “Not from childhood, if that’s what you mean.”

“Right,” you say. “Yeah. I knew that. I’m sorry.”

He comes back to your side, leans on the cart. “It’s okay,” he tells you. “I don’t mind.”

“Still,” you say. “Sorry.” You steer the cart toward a display of different chicken parts and he pads along beside you—like an obedient dog, you think.

“What’s the difference between…” he bends over, peering at the packages. “Breasts and thighs?”

You giggle. “You tell me.”

You watch as his face turns red, clashing wonderfully with his hair.

“Um, l-let’s get the…thighs, I guess,” he chokes, and you stifle your laughter with your hand.

“Thighs it is.”

He throws the chicken into the cart with his face turned away and you grin. 707 was a tease, but it is easy to fluster Saeyoung.

You move through the aisle of bottled sauces in companionable silence. You hold up a bottle of bottle of soy sauce and he nods enthusiastically; he does the same for the fish sauce and corn syrup. To test him, you hold up a banana ketchup—which you’ve personally never actually tried—and he gives you the same affirmative head bob.

“Saeyoung, do you know what this is?”

He tilts his head to the side, reads the label.

“Banana ketchup? Yum!”

You sigh. “Fine.” You toss it in the cart; maneuver to the next aisle.

“You didn’t even have soy sauce or salt or anything in your house when we moved in,” you say. “There was literally nothing in the cabinets.”

He strolls along beside you, running a finger along the rows of different kinds of pasta. “It never occurred to me.”

“We were kind of surprised,” you add, tossing a big bag of rice into the cart. “We bought a bunch of stuff, before we…left.” You stumble over the words; gears spin frantically in your brain. The words hang heavily in the air between you. Before we left to find you. Before we found you and then lost you again.

He’s silent for a moment and you know he feels the change in atmosphere, the way time seems to have slowed down.

“Hey,” he says finally. He’s got one arm draped over the side of the cart and his posture is a little stiff. “Did I ever thank you? I mean, properly.”

You bite your lip, keep walking. Your face feels hot. Suddenly, you’re not really looking at what’s on the shelves.

“You did,” you say softly. “But I feel I should be the one thanking you. You’re the reason we’re both alive, you know.”

Saeyoung stops, and you almost crash into him. He spins around, and he’s got a hard, determined look in his face. You’ve seen that look before.

“No,” he says. “Nuh-uh. You saved us. You protected him. You did what I didn’t…couldn’t—”

Ah. Your heart’s pounding against your ribcage. Of course it’s here, you think—in this narrow aisle, next to hundreds of loaves of bread, that he’s saying this to you.

“Saeyoung, he knows that you would die for him. You tried to.”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, walks away from you, lingers at the end of the aisle. The change in him is remarkable. There’s no hint of the awestruck boy, bouncing up and down over the wide selection of steaks, in this morose, bitter man.

“I didn’t succeed, did I?” he says. A mother with a small child seated in the front of her shopping cart comes down the aisle and you back up into the shelves to let them pass. You wonder if they can feel how thick the air is.

“No, you didn’t,” you say. “And thank god, because where would we be if you had?” He finally looks at you then, and you’re taken aback by the wild look in his eyes. It scares you; you take a step toward him. “You fought for him,” you tell him. “And he fought for you.”

His fingers drum a frantic pattern on the metal shelf beside him. He’s got the look of a cornered animal, ready to bolt. You’ve seen this expression before—though on a different Choi brother.

“I was supposed to protect him,” he says, so quietly you can hardly hear him. You take one more step. Another. Finally you’re at his side, and he flinches, but he doesn’t run away.

“You did,” you say. “And he’s safe. All of us are safe.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“We’re going to buy this stuff,” you tell him. “We’re gonna pay for it, and get in the car, and go back home, and he’ll be there. Waiting for you.”

Saeyoung shuts his eyes and takes a long, slow breath. You do it with him. He runs a shaky hand through his hair again and you give him a little nudge with your elbow. Eyes still closed, one side of his mouth twitches upward—a half-smile.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know.”

“I just feel like I owe you…”

“Me too.”

His eyes open; they’re clearer, bright and gold behind his glasses.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says, and it sounds like a question.

“I love him,” you say. “So, I think I do.”

Saeyoung shakes his head; the color’s back in his cheeks now, and he grabs the cart, pushing it out of the aisle. You jog to catch up, grab onto the side just as he’d done earlier. Hold on tight.

“You love him a lot, don’t you?” he says. You can see him in your peripheral vision—his eyes are twinkling.

“More than anything in the world,” you reply.

“Me too,” he says, echoing you, and you grin. You picture the look on Saeran’s face if he could hear this conversation—the way his green eyes would soften, the way he’d get that adorable little dusting of pink over his cheeks.

Saeyoung turns the cart abruptly, maneuvering into the next aisle with an expertise you didn’t expect—you shriek, barely holding on. He cackles.

“We need this!” he says, and you turn to see him pointing at an alarmingly large box of some sort of purple cookie you’ve never seen before.

We don’t, you almost say, but you hesitate, because what’s the harm?

“Sure,” you say, and you toss them in the cart.

Saeyoung smiles. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. You know he’s not talking about the stupid cookies.

You beam right back at him. “I am too.”

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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monokyokyo · 3 years ago

Text

Flower Boy

An old one but I'm working on a part 2 so I figured I'd share it anyway!

Jongsang (although it's not really focused on), pretty fluffy, Jongho is a florist

Flowers had a range of emotions. From the fiery passion of roses to the sombre colour of forget me nots'. Jongho found comfort in the likes of these pristine plants. After all, he had an entire shop dedicated to nearly every flower the region had to offer. It was such a simple job yet there was nothing he would rather do.

Every day, someone new entered his shop in search of a flower to suit their tastes or situation, and it was Jongho's job to assist them.

The day started out normal. Jongho was rearranging the objects on the front counter when a familiar face strutted in. "Hello Mr Park," He greeted the tall man cheerfully.

"How many times must I tell you? Just Seonghwa is fine." Chuckled the customer as he removed his sparkling sunglasses.

"I'm sorry. What can I do for you today, Mr Park?" Seonghwa shook his head, deciding to just leave it be. His eyes travelled around the small shop, a light hum coming from his lips.

"I'm looking for something that really pops! You know? This couple is really into gemstones, so they're having a crystal wedding." Seonghwa was a wedding planner. Every now and again, usually once or twice a week, he would come to Jongho's store in search of the perfect flowers to impress his clients. He was a rather picky individual and Jongho learned during their very first encounter that he wasn't someone whose time should be wasted.

As such, Jongho got right to looking for the perfect bunch of flowers for the occasion. He glanced around before finally landing on what he hoped was the right bouquet. "Why not freesia?" He suggested. "The red ones represent passion, something these two must have a lot of if they're theming their wedding around their love of crystals. Wouldn't you say?"

Seonghwa nodded at him, a slight grin forming on his face at the bright smile on the younger man's face. "I would say indeed. Alright, I'll need two dozen bouquets. I'll send you the details on the wrapping later." He put his sunglasses on and turned to the door. "Give me a call when you're ready to plan your wedding, hey Jongho? I promise I'll give you the best of the best."

"I'm only twenty," He giggled. "I've still got some time, Mr Park."

Seonghwa chuckled. "Indeed you do." He left, leaving Jongho with a smile on his face.

About an hour or so later, the bell above the store entrance dinged. Jongho looked up from his order and saw a man scanning, somewhat frantically, through several displays of flowers. "How many I help you today?" Jongho asked the customer cheerfully.

The man sighed and sluggishly walked over to the counter. "I need the perfect flower for my boyfriend. He's been going through a lot recently and I need something to show him that I'm here for him..." Jongho tilted his head at this and hummed. He told the man to wait a moment then hopped over to one of the shelves.

"Here," He said. The man looked down curiously at the pink hydrangea in Jongho's hand. "Pink hydrangea for a passionate and emotional romance. You clearly care about him a lot. I'm sure these flowers will show him that." Jongho tilted his head at the light hum of consideration he received, hoping he would take up his suggestion. "I could label the bouquet if you'd like? What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Wooyoung," Jongho didn't fail to notice the way the man smiled at the mere mention of his boyfriend's name. He found it sweet how love two people could share with one another. Words are hard to express, but one could show them through something as simple as a flower. So Jongho made sure to put on the nicest tag he had, and encased the hydrangea a shiny, clear plastic to keep them safe.

"I hope things go well for you two," Said Jongho just as they finished their transaction. He handed the man the bouquet, sending him a grin with it. "Have a good day Mr..."

"San. Choi San," Then they parted ways. It made Jongho feel a certain pride inside, knowing he had the potential to help someone with his flowers. Regardless of if he knew the turnout, at least he was able to provide some assistance to those who would appreciate it. Well, it wasn't always appreciated.

About thirty or so minutes later, another familiar face stormed into the flower shop. The front door slammed open, disturbing the usual calm atmosphere of the store when he stomped in. An empty vase on the counter, nearly cracking it and causing Jongho to flinch from his seat. He let out a yelp in surprise, a small squeak that only made the man in front of him scoff.

"M-Mr Jeong? I'm sorry I-"

"You should be," Growled the older man. He pushed back his blonde hair with an aggressive sigh while Jongho slowly pulled back the clay pot. His brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what could've gone so wrong that he would come back so vexed, especially after their calm encounter last week. Mr Jeong or, Yunho, had ordered a pot of roses for his girlfriend. Could she have hated them that much?

"I-If you don't mind me asking...What happened last week?"

The blonde huffed, though it sounded more like a growl to Jongho's sensitive ears. "She's allergic," The younger male squinted, carefully asking him to repeat himself. "Are you deaf? I said she's fucking allergic!" Jongho flinched back at his harsh and loud tone yet Yunho hardly made the effort to reel himself back in.

"You sold me these damn flowers, giving me this grand speech about how special they'll make her feel and how she'll love them and you know what happens? She ends sneezing through our entire date! Why the hell would you give those to me?!"

"W-Well how was I s-supposed to know? Y-You came in asking for flowers!" The look Yunho gave him had to be the scariest thing Jongho had ever seen...in his shop. He was tall, about six foot, and easily towered over the cowering boy.

"Are you saying this is my fault?" He seethed through his gritted teeth. Jongho gulped, unsure of what to do in this sort of situation. He had never had anyone this angry over roses of all things.

"W-Well, no...I'm not blaming you but...shouldn't you have known?" He flinched yet again when Yunho leered closer, his hands thrown up in what would likely be, useless defence.

"Those roses had to be bugged, sprayed with something, I don't know! You had to have done something to them! We have roses at home for crying out loud!"

"And do you water them?" When Jongho's only response was silence, he lowered his arms, creasing his brow.

"Well...I've never seen anyone water them...but..."

"So...You ordered real roses thinking that your girlfriend wouldn't be allergic...because she doesn't react to the fake roses in your home?" Yunho could only sputter out a string of incoherent words that basically proved Jongho's suspicions to be correct. In response, he sighed then wordlessly pulled out his logbook.

Yunho watched curiously as he flipped through before he landed on last week. Jongho then grabbed a piece of paper and asked for the man's card, which he reluctantly agreed to. When it was handed back to him, Jongho hit him with a frow. "Here is your receipt sir. I've refunded your flowers..." The face alone was enough to make anyone feel lousy but the way his words trailed off just added extra salt to the wound.

So just before he took his receipt and left, Yunho mumbled something under his breath to the boy. "Thank you...for what it's worth...she loved the flowers before she started sneezing..." A tiny grin formed on Jongho's face and it made Yunho sigh, successfully feeling like less of an ass.

Jongho never had aggressive customers. Irritated, sure, but no one had ever gotten that upset with him. It was a flower shop after all. All of that before twelve as well...

The brunette let out a sigh of relief when his phone went off at twelve-thirty, signalling that it was finally his lunch break. Though the day was mostly quiet, he hadn't eaten since that morning and was eager to fill his stomach with some sort of nutrients. However, just before you could put up his 'Back in 20 minutes sign', the sound of the doorbell caught his attention. In shuffled a man with jet black hair, featuring various strands of gold.

His eyes were light red and his face was a little puffy as well. Jongho didn't give himself a moment to mourn his lost lunch break and hastily rushed over to greet the once crying figure. "I'm sorry...Am I bothering you?" He sniffled, wiping whatever remaining tears he had.

"No, not at all! What can I help you with?"

The man fidgeted slightly, eyes wandering around the shop and towards the floor. Clearly, he was trying to look anywhere but at Jongho, something the younger wasn't at all bothered by. "I'm looking for a flower..." He shook his head, muttering how that was obvious. "A gift I mean. I-It's for..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..." Shaking his head once, the customer told him that it was alright, followed by mumbling a few things that Jongho didn't quite get. "Pardon?"

"S-Sorry I um...I just got back from the hospital..." Judging by his mannerisms, Jongho couldn't quite tell if he was a patient or if he was merely visiting someone. "My father he um...isn't doing too well," Well now he felt awful for assuming his condition. "I just wanted to get him some flowers and my boyfriend recommended this place..."

The snap from Jongho's fingers made the older male flinch, put off by the rather bright grin on his face. "You must be Wooyoung! San's boyfriend, right?"

"Y-Yes...That's me..." Jongho had realised his awfully chipper tone wasn't very appropriate and did Wooyoung a favour by calming himself down.

"Sorry...Why don't you browse around and tell me what catches your eye." A slight nod was all Jongho got before Wooyoung began to walk around the store. He tried his best not to follow the young man whilst he strolled about but it was difficult not to be curious. The way he moved was so tired, sluggish even and Jongho knew he wouldn't find anything he would like in a reasonable amount of time.

So, with that, Jongho stood to his feet and made his way over to the mixed-haired male, following his gaze across the shelves. "Anything that's caught your interest?" His sudden question made Wooyoung jump. Jongho apologised as soon as he startled him yet the older only turned away.

"I'm sorry...I don't really know what I'm doing here," Jongho heard his airy chuckle but it definitely wasn't humorous. "I don't know the first thing about flowers or what he would like...I think I'll just go."

Jongho grabbed his arm before he could turn away, earning him a questionable look from Wooyoung. His arm was yanked back and Jongho replied with a nervous laugh. "Sorry. Um, stay right here?" With the soft tone of his voice, Wooyoung couldn't possibly leave yet. So he sighed to himself while watching the young florist run off to the corner of the room, where an array of purple flowers caught his eye.

He came back not too long later with a bouquet in his hands. "Iris'," Said Jongho just as he handed them off. "They represent hope. I hope you and your family have enough, but a little more won't hurt. Stay strong." Wooyoung looked down at the flowers in his hand. Incoming tears were the only thing he saw as they began to fill his vision, eventually clouding it entirely until he felt the water roll down his pale cheeks.

Whatever words he mumbled to Jongho were interrupted by his unstable breaths and cries but it hadn't deterred him in the slightest. Instead of charging him the moment Wooyoung was handed the flowers, Jongho asked him if he would like a cup of hot chocolate. The older male wiped his tears, offering him a slight grin and saying: "T-That would be wonderful..."

Jongho even gave him extra marshmallows to make him feel better.

It was rather late when Wooyoung left. Well, if you count quarter past three to be late - which Jongho did. Although, he didn't mind much. Wooyoung left his store with a smile, flowers and a cheeky bit of foam around his lips. It was good enough for him.

Thankfully, Jongho had gotten to eat a cookie or two while speaking with the mixed-haired male. It was just enough to distract his growling stomach while he helped his few customers. One of which was certainly one of the most intimidating Jongho had seen yet.

A tall stature, black leather jacket, red hair and a dark stare - Jongho had no clue what he was doing in a flower shop of all places. However, he had learned to never judge a book by its cover and greeted the man with a bright beam, just as he did with all his other customers. "Hello..." His voice certainly fit his appearance. It was deep, like it could reach the depths of the ocean if he wanted it to.

"How can I help you today?" Said Jongho, as he waved to the old lady who had just bought a pot of daisies right before the redhead entered.

"I'm looking for some flowers..." As obvious as that may have sounded, Jongho didn't hold it against him though. It was clear that he had never been in a store like this. The poor man looked too scared to touch anything as if he were afraid it was going to burst into flames if he so much as lifted a finger. Honestly, Jongho found it rather cute.

"Of course! What kind?" That didn't seem to be the right question to ask. As all the man did was rock back and forth on his heels, the gears turning in his head as attempted to come up with a suitable answer.

"Um...Pretty ones?" Jongho nearly giggled at how adorable his answer was. He was clueless about flowers and the young florist was ready to help him find the perfect one for his occasion. Walking from behind the counter, Jongho made his way to his titan of a customer and looked up at him. He was quite small in comparison but he didn't mind.

"I'll help you find the prettiest ones around! Who are they for?" Big men like him didn't usually visit Jongho's shop, so it was no surprise when a light blush crept across the customer's cheek and he began to avert eye contact in embarrassment.

"They're um...f-for my mother..." This time, Jongho didn't hesitate to giggle, eliciting a deeper blush from the taller male. "D-Don't laugh! What? Got a problem with me getting a gift from my mother?" The man's tone dropped to a frightfully low level, ending Jongho's laughter within seconds.

"I didn't mean it like that...It's just, I'm surprised. That's all. Not many tough looking guys like you come in here." This time, it was the other male's turn to laugh. A 180 that was nothing but appreciated by Jongho.

"Never judge a book by its cover, I suppose," He sent Jongho a grin and the younger smiled right back. "My mother's been telling me all about this shop, she comes here every Tuesday to look at the flowers and pick up supplies for her garden. She was busy today, so she asked me to pick a few things for her house."

"Oh! You must be Mrs Song's son? Mingi, was it?" The redhead nodded at him, continuing to grin even as he chuckled somewhat awkwardly. "She talks about you quite a bit. The one that sleeps with plushies, right?"

"Yep, that's me. I'll be honest, I'm not much of a flower guy but my mother adores them. Mind helping me pick out something she would like?" Jongho nodded at him, eagerly bouncing up and down in a way that made Mingi giggle.

Despite his rough exterior, Mingi was a rather sweet person. Listening attentively and nodding along as Jongho told him about his various selection of flowers and even giving his own input, saying what and what not his mother would like. Eventually, the two settled on yellow daffodils, quite a few dahlias and a tiny pot of lavender. Once Mingi was completely sure this was perfect, he bid Jongho farewell, promising to come visit again with his mother at some point. The prospect of seeing him again made Jongho grin. Another satisfied customer.

The day was officially coming to a close. Jongho sighed the moment the final customer went on their way. It was a rather old lady and he had just spent the last fifteen minutes explaining that the stamen and anther of her plants weren't insects. A rather draining conversation, as you can imagine. After that, the young man was just about ready to close his shop and head home.

He glanced at the clock, smiling at it finally struck six. Closing time. He trotted over to the front door and got ready to flip to the open sign to close. Yet just before he could do so, the door suddenly swung open and Jongho flinched back in surprise. A hand grabbed his waist just before he could fall backwards, lifting his body to meet another.

Light, sparkling brown eyes met with Jongho's dark ones. His hazel hair managed to look unkempt yet too perfect to fix and his expression was soft but his features were sharp, almost prince-like. He was the epitome of beauty. "Are you still open?" Were the first words to leave his soft lips.

Jongho couldn't find the words or the will to say no or so much as shake his head. All he did was slowly escape his grip, carefully gesturing him into the store. The stranger smiled at him then made his way in. Jongho gulped, watching his every movement. He had seen him before. A delivery boy from the restaurant down the road. The two had never spoken but Jongho knew he existed. Yet he yearned for more.

"Do you know what you're looking for?" He inquired in a voice more akin to a whisper rather than his usual upbeat speaking voice. The older brunette turned back to him. Jongho thought he had done something wrong judging by his stare yet the smile returned to his face.

Slowly, he made his way towards the florist, prompting Jongho to step back until he was pressed against one of the displays. "You," He stated simply.

Blush erupted onto Jongho's cheeks, sending him into an internal frenzy of panic. "M-Me? What do you..." He trailed off when the other male picked a lone rose from the table. Oh...he meant the rose. He told Jongho that he would take it and go, filling him with a heavy heart.

With that, Jongho filled out their transaction, trying his best not to let his gaze travel to the lean figure in front of him. How could he be so intimidating while doing practically nothing?

The man had sweater paws for crying out loud.

Jongho then handed him the rose and a receipt. "Have a good evening, sir..." Yet he hadn't left yet. He glanced up to see the man wrapping a tag around the flower, before he placed it back on the counter. Just before Jongho could question what he was doing, he was hit with another smile.

"Good night, flower boy." Was all he said before he leaned in and placed a kiss on the younger's forehead. Just like, he disappeared into the night. Like a strange yet delightful dream Jongho had experienced in the wake of dawn.

Cautiously, he glanced at the rose that was left on the counter.

Call me XXX-XXX-XXXXX Kang Yeosang I would love to get to know you, Flower Boy

#Jongho #choi jongho #ateez #ateez fluff #jongsang #ateez fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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hypermania · 3 years ago

Note

Repurpose furniture you say?

yeah! i mean repurpose is probably not the right word but for a few months i was very enthusiastically revamping thrifted furniture and scraps of wood that i nailed together for the sole purpose of making my apartment more livable/organized and it was probably the happiest i've been in the last several years lol (pictures under the cut if you're interested)

it started with these little box-drawer things i found at michael's for a couple bucks that i turned into display boxes for all of hands guy's little trinkets that just sit and collect dust and drive me nuts. i took out the drawer part and painted them and put a removable plexiglass front on them so that dust can't get inside (i'm super allergic to dust mites so i'll do pretty much anything that makes it easier to clean lol). we have a whole slew of them now and they're mounted (individually, they're not actually stacked like a pyramid) on a wall like tiny floating shelves.

then i got fed up with the tv cables in my bedroom so i took some scraps of wood from my dad's house and turned them into a box with an open-down front door thing (with a little handle that i'm very proud of lol) to house the power strip and then hid the cables behind a runner

and then the stupid entryway in my apartment was making me want to commit atrocities because it was 1.) ugly and 2.) hands guy comes home and just... has so much camera stuff and pens and receipts??? and just SHIT that he puts WHEREVER so i was like okay well i can't live like this i CANNOT so i was like okay well what if i just give you a whole ass shelf contraption thing to put all your shit on instead of dropping it on the floor or leaving on random surfaces when you come home??? so i bought this bookshelf for ten bucks and sanded it down and painted it and then stuck it on the wall over where our bikes go and used the drawers i took out from the other boxes i made for his little trinkets to put all the change and pens and what other various crap he pulls out of his pockets in.

and then i found this bench on offerup for five bucks and found some paint that could be used on vinyl and had to mix a few different colors to make the one i wanted but it worked and i painted it and then i painted the wood of the legs and the shelf for the coats and then re-did the picture frames and now there is a place to sit while putting on/taking off our shoes and i no longer want to commit atrocities.

and for some reason hands guy had the ugliest floating shelves in existence (and they weren't even spaced evenly and i couldn't handle it) so i FIXED that problem.

the rest of the books are on another shelf thing in another area that i don't have a picture of for some reason but it's got the same general color theme and it's also got the pineapple : )

and that's like.. the general vibe of what i've been doing. i've repainted a bunch of furniture for my bedroom too so that it matches the sea foam green and white theme of the tv box (the ghost and the skeleton chest is a personal fav)

i've done a lot of other projects but tumblr won't let me upload more pictures. sorry for the crappy quality of the ones i did upload haha.

#anonymous #replies #mp

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crossbowking · 5 years ago

Text

More Than This

Summary: (Set during season 3) Daryl and Reader are on a supply run when they find themselves under attack.

A/N: Hi everyone! So this is the very FIRST installment of a series I want to start on my page where we get a bunch of author’s together and write a collective one-shot! I had a blast putting this together. It was so amazing to get a feel for everyone’s different writing styles and it was also super cool how the story ended up blending together.

The order in which we wrote was chosen by a random number generator. After all the participating author’s sent me their pieces, I edited them together -- some stuff was changed or cut for continuity purposes/length. The only thing us author’s had to go off of was the summary -- the rest was up to us! Everyone seriously did AMAZING.

Each author will be tagged after their correlating piece, so be sure to give them all some love!

Thank you to everyone who participated! I hope you all enjoyed the experience!

Happy reading!

xx crossbowking

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Dim and dirty sunlight filtered in through the grimy supermarket windows, providing enough light to see the walker’s blood staining the worn linoleum.

You wrinkled your nose and yanked your knife out of its rotting head before stepping away from the mess. The stabbing you'd gotten used to, but you didn’t think you’d ever get used to that smell.

You looked up when someone stepped into the aisle, but it was only Daryl. You’d recognize those broad shoulders and that crossbow anywhere. You gave him a quick smile and cleaned your blade on the walker’s torn pants. “I think this is the last of them.”

Daryl looked down at the walker. “Better stick together, just in case.”

You nodded, re-sheathing your knife and letting him lead the way.

The two of you did one more sweep of the store before you started your search. You went aisle by aisle, looking under broken shelves and moving piles of cardboard and other debris. But your mind was only half on the task at hand, too distracted by thoughts of Daryl.

You didn’t know exactly when you began to notice the clear blue color of his eyes or how much you wanted to reach out and brush the hair out of his face when it began to grow long. You didn’t know when you started missing him when he was off hunting or how happy it made you when he came back safe.

All you knew was that you were head over heels and that kind of scared you.

You chanced a glance at him and when he looked up from what he was doing and met your gaze, you felt that familiar lurch in your chest. The mad urge to tell him how you felt overtook you. “Daryl, I —”

The front door of the store slammed open, cutting the moment short. You had time to whip around and take in several bedraggled men spilling into the store and realized they were aiming their weapons at you.

But Daryl was there and he was grabbing your arm and yanking you into his chest and diving behind the nearest piece of cover just as shots began to split the air. (@mundieoriley)

Your heart pounded in your ears along with the sound of hailing gunshots.

Daryl held you in an almost painful grip against him, the furious look of protection etched onto his face.

You desperately tried to catch your breath, feeling panic start to rise inside you.

These people came from absolutely nowhere. How long had they been following you? How could you have not noticed? How could Daryl not have?

You had no time to speculate as the sudden silence that followed was just as jarring.

As you stirred in his arms, Daryl pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and placed a finger to his lips. You nodded and felt yourself calm slightly, the blue sincerity of his eyes radiating some kind of strength you believed in.

"Find ‘em," a gruff voice called out against the stark silence. "Gut the asshole, but don't mark up the girl.”

You could hear the sneer in the man's voice and your stomach turned.

Daryl's grip on your ribs tightened at the words possessively, and if it wasn't any other situation, you would have enjoyed the sensation to no end.

You, in turn, tightened your grip on your knife, trying to be ready for anything.

The sudden sound of multiple people walking in your direction made your eyes flick to Daryl's in a plead. A plead for direction, a plan, any communication as to what you should do. But Daryl had hardened over, the look on his face showing that he was ready to take on a hundred men if that's what it was going to take. (@rhyatt-deauxtreve)

He didn't move until it was almost too late.

You tried to loosen his grip because the men were so close and you had to move now. And then you were roughly pushed forward, Daryl's hands no longer holding you tight against his chest.

You ducked away when the first bullet hit the shelf to your left. You didn’t have time to think, you just ran, half bent, hiding behind cabinets and shelves. Your blood was boiling and you distinctly heard the beats of your own heart. Somewhere behind you, the deafening whistle of a bolt cut through the air.

Suddenly Daryl was a little ahead and on your left. He turned around, loaded the crossbow, hiding behind the wall, and fired another bolt.

They were close, too close, and the small distance that you’d managed to win was rapidly shrinking.

As if through the cotton wool in your ears, you heard Daryl suddenly groan in pain.

A bullet had gone through his right side.

“Daryl!” you yelped.

But before you could react, he grabbed your hand and pushed you into a small room, looking over his shoulder every few seconds. “Lock the door and stay quiet,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“What!” you yelled and immediately lowered your voice. “Are you out of your mind? Get in here, there are too many of them!”

“Ain’t gonna fight,” he shot you a glare. “Gonna lead ‘em away. Now listen to what I say and stay.”

And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Soon you heard firing and shouts. The men ran past your door. You stopped breathing and closed your eyes, praying to whatever God for them to pass you by.

And then, as soon as it had started, the firing stopped.

Sudden silence engulfed the store.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. You no longer heard the voices and shooting. Just dead silence.

And that’s when fear, primal fear, took over. (@aisling-beatha)

"Well, this sucks like the world's worst vacuum,” you muttered to yourself in nervous indecision, breathing away the panic before the idea of hysterical screaming could set in. You chewed on your fingernail while pacing the length of the musty, moth-infested maintenance closet. "Honestly, what was the man thinking? He's just been shot, for God's sake! He has no business leading a bunch of murdering thugs anywhere. It should be me leading them away.”

Your eyes narrowed and your jaw set as everything inside settled into a deadly calm.

You eased the door open a crack and peeked through, knives at the ready, along with a sturdy wrench you'd found and shoved into the back pocket of your jeans.

Sensing nothing of immediate import, you crept out into the gloom of the store's main area to search for clues as to Daryl's whereabouts, all the while keeping to the deepest shadows in complete silence.

One of the raiders was crouched over a fallen display of ratty old magazines, no doubt rummaging for one where the women wore as few clothes as was decent for the mass consumption standards of a grocery store.

Sliding up behind him like a ghost in the night, you pounced.

After a quick and dirty wrestling match — though he had the size advantage, he was stupid-drunk and you had the jump on him. One heavily booted foot dug into the man's spine as you leaned over him, blade a hair's breadth away from slicing his throat.

Your voice was flat, low, and completely without mercy. "I'll ask only once. Where is my friend?” (@darylconnieftw)

He slowly let go of the magazine still in his grip, starting to chuckle.

You felt anger rising in you as his lips formed a slight smirk. You couldn’t help but press your knife even closer to his throat, trying not to kill him then and there.

He lifted both of his hands in defense, visibly amused.

You swallowed, hoping Daryl was still alive and okay – or at least as okay as he could be considering he had gotten shot.

The man moved a little, making you shove your knife against his larynx, clarifying that you wouldn’t hesitate to slice his throat if he did something stupid.

“Whoa,” is all he came up with, glancing up at your silhouette.

You bit your lip, the taste of blood encasing your teeth as you tilted your head to look him dead in the eye. “I ain’t joking,” you stated, causing him to raise his eyebrows in a small nod.

You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before taking the knife off his throat and onto his lower arm, placing a deep cut on his wrist before pulling it back up. He screamed out in pain, his eyes asking for permission to stop the bleeding with his shirt, which you granted.

You listened to his panicked breath for a few seconds, blinking a few tears away. “I asked you something,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, yet low and aggressive.

He stared at you, stuttering as he answered. “The, uh, the guy with the dirty hair and, and, and wings on the back of his, uh, vest?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning in. “Are there any other people your group attacked in here?”

He swallowed and shook his head as you suddenly noticed a shadow to your side. (@rxsenkrxnz-imagines)

A good thing that had come out of all of this was that after the world ended, you’d acquired very good reflexes.

It was vital to have them good and sharp now, it was the new normal. You would’ve died many times over if you hadn’t, everyone would.

And that’s what got you to swirl around without even having to think about it, bringing the man’s overweighted body with you to face the source of the shadow, the knife nicking at the skin of the big man’s neck, making him whimper. There was a flicker of proudness and a dirty pleasure inside your chest for being able to make a big, bad man whimper.

You’d never thought that you’d be able to do that one day.

From over his shoulder, your eyes focused on another man, this one much more threatening looking than the one under your knife. He was lean and muscular and the hatred and danger in his eyes made you shiver, even though you didn’t let any of them notice.

“Stop right there, asshole,” you said between clenched teeth and the firmness of your voice surprised even yourself. “Or I’ll slit his throat open!”

Of all the things you thought the man would do, a smile was not one of them.

He lowered his head, keeping his eyes on yours, the smile making you sure you’d vomit after all of this was over. “Do it,” he said. “I don’t care. Go on, darling. Do it.” (@elisdays)

Well, that was not what you were expecting to hear.

You recognized the man’s voice though, it was the same one who spoke earlier and you put together that he was probably the thug pack leader. “Don’t test me!” you shouted, although you were sure he wasn’t testing you.

A snicker escaped the man’s lips. “I ain’t testing you, darling, I mean it. Do it, kill him.”

“C-come on, man! Don’t egg her on, she actually will!” the man in your grasp whimpered as he begged for his life.

The leader’s eyes fell on the one you held captive. “Sorry, Greg, but you know how it is. The more of you around, the less time we all have with this pretty one. Be a good boy and let her kill you. You��ll be remembered for your loyal sacrifice.” His words sent a shiver up your spine.

These people, no, these monsters were absolutely sick. You already knew that this new world brought either the worst or the best out of people. It was just unfortunate that most of the world became the worst versions of themselves.

“Go on, princess! What are you waiting for?” the man took a step towards you as he urged you to kill his henchman.

You needed to think of something and fast.

“You know what? This is a waste of time,” the man sighed, pulling his gun from its holster.

You gasped as Greg screamed, the thug leader pulling the trigger and shooting Greg in the head. You felt the dead weight of his body fall limp onto you and you tried to use this to your advantage. You shoved the dead body forward and ran, dashing behind shelves as the body fell onto the thug leader.

You needed to get out, you needed to get away from these people and most importantly, you needed to find out where the hell Daryl went.

Panic struck your heart when you thought about him. Was he okay? Did he run into more of them? Did he kill them? You shook your head before you could finish your thought process. Now was not the time to panic and cry. (@ddixons-angel)

Pull yourself together — that’s what you had to do now.

You crouched down behind one of the empty shelves, near the exit. But what were you to do? Not like it was an easy decision to make. You had to stay alive, that much was clear. Ending up dead wouldn’t be too big a use to Daryl right now.

The thing that worked in your favor was the thing that terrified you most. The reason for these men wanting you alive had very little to do with the goodness of their hearts.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of the grumbling leader, seemingly to have wrestled free of his buddy's dead body.

You should’ve been out of here by now, but you knew that running blindly wasn't going to do you much good — who could even guarantee that you wouldn’t be running straight into the rest of the guy's merry band of thugs? No, you weren’t an idiot.

You stilled completely, not daring to draw a breath as you heard the man's footsteps creep your way.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he sang out mockingly, stupidly giving out his exact position.

He was just a shelf away, practically standing right behind you. (@of-storms-and-sadness)

Once he was at arm’s length on the other side of the broken shelf, you reached through with your blade, stabbing him twice in the thigh.

The pain you inflicted caused the man to groan out, cursing through gritted teeth. When he composed himself, he swung around the corner but was met with an empty aisle, excluding the cans and blood that littered the floor.

Before he could take another confused step, you struck from behind, going for his armed hand.

With his wrist in your grasp, you forced the barrel to face off to the side. The gun went off as you backed him into the shelf, using the opportunity to jab your blade into his abdomen once — twice — thrice.

If you hadn’t caught him off guard, you highly doubted that would’ve been the outcome.

The combination of his back slamming against a hard object, your deadly grip on his dominant hand, and you gutting him, caused the gun to slip from his hold and clatter to the floor. You managed to kick the weapon aside before you were roughly shoved into the rack across from you with such force it knocked, not only the air out of your lungs, but your knife out of your hand.

Blinking away your blurred vision, your mind frantically tried to come up with an idea of what to do next. Should you try to reach for the discarded gun? Your knife?

No — there was another weapon in play.

Just in the nick of time, you shrieked and ducked down, barely missing the fist that was meant to make contact with your face. You kneed him in the groin before reaching into your back pocket, feeling the wrench that you had nabbed from the maintenance closet earlier.

Positioning yourself behind the crouched man, you held both ends of the tool, bringing it over his head and to his neck. Your back greeted the ground as you laid there and applied pressure, choking the life out of the once cocky and determined bastard.

“Be a good boy and let me kill you,” you taunted his words back at him through clenched teeth as he struggled.

Once the man went limp, you shoved his body off you with a grunt and went to grab your knife and the owner-less gun — it was yours now.

All of a sudden a shot rang out.

Daryl.

Where was Daryl? (@twdeadlysins)

You squatted down, jamming the knife in your hand into the soft flesh of the leaders’ temple, knowing that it could only take mere minutes for the dead to rise again.

You slowly crept over to the entrance of the store and peeked outside, checking if there were any more of the thugs outside.

Your hands were slightly shaking and your heart beating frantically in your chest as your eyes traced the empty street outside of the store. You needed to get to Daryl fast, he needed your help.

The gunshot you had heard had nearly made your heart stop. Had the thugs already killed him?

Since you could not spot any immediate danger, you slowly made your way out of the store.

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. You had not seen what direction Daryl had led the thugs, but you figured you just had to start somewhere.

You held the knife in your hand, your eyes and ears ready to pick up any movement or sound as you moved along the side of the building. You glanced over your shoulder, making sure that no one was creeping up on you as you moved forward.

Your steps suddenly came to an abrupt halt as you bumped into something solid.

You yelped and raised your hand, ready to strike, but a firm hand around your wrist stopped you.

“Easy girl, it’s just me,” you heard Daryl’s raspy voice and your wide frightened stare locked with his sky blue orbs.

You let out a relieved whimper and threw your arms around his neck, hugging him. “I thought you were dead, I heard a gunshot,” you said as you hugged him tightly.

Feeling how he flinched, you took a step back and your eyes traced down to his side where he was shot.

“Oh god, you’re hurt. We need to get you back to the others before you bleed out,” you whispered, feeling your heart start to speed up again.

The two of you were not out of danger yet. Daryl was shot and you knew it was up to you now to get you both to safety. (@easnuppa)

You wrapped your arms around Daryl's waist, leading him toward the truck you’d parked a little way back.

Fear gripped at your heart with every step you took, every wince Daryl tried to keep in, every little bit of blood he was losing. “Nearly there, hold on,” you pleaded to Daryl, the truck finally coming into view.

You opened the passenger side door and took as much of Daryl's weight as you could, helping him get in. You took a glance at Daryl as he sat in the passenger seat, his head leaned back on the headrest and his eyes closed.

You had never been more scared in your life as you were right there in that moment.

You quickly closed his door and rushed to the driver's seat where you promptly started the engine and began your tense journey back to the prison.

With every minute that passed, your panic started to rise, Daryl's breathing started to slow, and more blood was seeping through his fingers that were putting pressure on his gunshot wound.

“Keep pressure on it, Daryl, you hear,” you said loudly, trying to keep him awake and distracted.

But as you looked over to him, he was unresponsive.

“Daryl!” you screamed louder, hoping to wake him up, but failed. “God, no please,” you begged, tears threatening to fall as you took the hand you didn’t need and placed it on his wound, keeping the blood flow at a minimum.

“Daryl, don’t leave me, you can't do this to me,” tears now falling down your face as the gates of the prison came into view. “Please help me, it’s Daryl!” you screamed out the open window to whoever was on watch.

“He's breathing but barely,” you informed whoever came to help, feeling helpless as you

watched them cart off Daryl’s unconscious form. (@jodiereedus22)

Everything felt fuzzy.

The world spun around you, noises muted and muffled as the driver’s side door was yanked open. A pair of hands grasped onto your arms and you allowed yourself to be pulled from the truck, finding it impossible to move on your own.

A rough hand grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upwards, your vacant eyes locking with Rick’s frantic ones. He was mouthing something you couldn't quite make out, his hands moving to grip either one of your shoulders, giving you an abrupt shake. “— happened? What happened, Y/N?” Rick’s voice broke through the fog, scanning your features wildly.

You opened your mouth to respond, confused as to why no words seemed to be coming out.

Rick appeared to swallow his frustration, instead taking a deep breath and placing his hand on the side of your neck. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, Y/N, it’s alright,” he soothed before his eyes hardened. “Was this the Governor?”

You swallowed audibly, forcing yourself to calm. “I-I —” you stuttered, exhaling shakily. “I don’t think so. W-We got — we, uh, we got ambushed. And Daryl —” your voice broke at the thought of what had happened.

“Listen ta’ me, Y/N,” Rick intervened, his tone noticeably softer. “Ya did all ya could do, alright? Ya got him home. Ya did all ya could do,” he reiterated.

You took a steadying breath. “I-I need to see him — I need to be with him.”

Rick nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “I know ya do.”

Things still felt hazy as you made your way into cell block C. (@crossbowking)

You sat on top of the steps and waited for news on Daryl. You hoped that he was going to be okay.

After a little while, Hershel hopped out of his cell. "I stitched up his side. But he hasn't regained consciousness yet and his breathing is labored,” he told you.

You headed inside and looked at him.

"Just give me a shout if he wakes up,” Hershel told you and left you alone.

You looked at Daryl and sat beside him. "Dare, you have to wake up, please,” you said with tears in your eyes. (@leej2468)

You hoped he heard you so he knew he wasn’t alone.

The afternoon dragged on slowly, yet you never left his side, afraid he would wake alone. You waited impatiently, perched on a stool next to his bedside.

The events of the day played in your mind, making your heart shatter more at the fact that Daryl almost got himself killed trying to keep you safe. Furiously swiping at the tears forming in your eyes, you just hoped that he would wake up and everything would go back to normal.

But you knew, deep down, you didn’t want things to go back to normal. The unspoken feelings you had were eating you alive and today just proved that you had to tell him before something happened to either of you. You knew he cared for you, he fucking proved that today, but you had to tell him that you wanted more.

You couldn’t help but take his limp hand in your own, slightly squeezing. Eyes trained on your joined hands, you almost didn’t notice his eyes flicker open slowly.

He didn’t say a word, only gripping your hand tightly, eyes wild. “Yer alright,” he managed to gasp out, his other hand reaching up to touch your face.

“Don’t try to move,” you whispered a reply. “Let me get Hershel, okay?”

“Don’t,” he rasped, trying to tug you back to his side. “Stay.”

You couldn’t help but bring his hand to your lips, kissing his rough knuckles. He sighed at the feeling and you leaned into his hand. “I thought I lost you,” you whispered, mostly to yourself in relief, but he heard it.

“Ya won’t lose me,” he mumbled, his eyes lazily trained on you as if he would doze off any second.

“You know what we have is special,” you whispered, raising your hand to move strands of hair from his eyes. “I want to know if you feel the same. I can’t wait anymore to tell you how I feel, especially knowing that something could happen.”

He paused, his expression softening. “I know,” he finally said gruffly. “I want...” he trailed off, thoughtful, trying to come up with something to say. “I wanna protect you, keep ya safe, but —” he inhaled sharply. “But I want more.”

You let out a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding. “Me, too,” you replied, and he nodded, his eyes closing. You leaned forward, lips on his forehead, and he didn’t flinch back like he usually did at physical contact.

Instead, he let you, without restraint, his tense posture relaxing under your touch.

“I love you and I can’t lose you,” you whispered, your lips barely on his skin.

He nodded. “Me, too.”

You leaned back, still holding his hand, letting him rest. (@writerzunite)

Fin.

A/N: So what did everyone think!

Let me know if this is something you’d like to see/participate in again!

And make sure you go check out these awesome author’s other stories!!!

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ohkiyo · 4 years ago

Text

characters: shiratorizawa team, reader, sakusa kiyoomi, and komori motoya. (quick appearance)

warnings: none, just some good ‘ol fluff.

word count: 5.1k

a/n: this is like a peace offering for not posting any content for the last two or three weeks (?), I also did not intend for this to reach over 5k+ words lol, so hopefully you won’t get bored reading this one. I also gave up editing this somewhere in the middle, so yeah that’s that hahaha. XD

anyways have fun and enjoy! :D

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“We’re going on a trip in our favorite rocket ship, zooming through the sky! Little Einsteins~” both you and Goshiki bounce on your seat at the back of the bus, singing the theme song of the cartoon you two watch for fun a few days ago. “Climb aboard, get ready to explore there’s so much to find little Einsteins~”

“Aren’t they excited?” a fond smile made its way into Semi’s face as he watches the two first years belting their hearts out to a song made for children. Tendou and Yamagata joining the two, causing the overall noise inside the bus to increased in volume. Their English pronunciation was horrible, but it didn’t stop them from sharing their – talent.

Kawanishi, who was two seats away from the four was also humming along, snacking on a chocolate bar, his phone on his hand capturing it all on camera, probably for future blackmail material. While Shirabu who was seated beside him, continues to sleep, unbothered by the ruckus happening inside the bus.

“This is their first time going to Tokyo after all” Reon answered, before he tilted his head to the side when they switch to a different song, this time, it was Tendou’s famous baki baki ni ore. “Since when did Satori taught them that?”

“Probably since the moment they joined”

They were currently on their way to Tokyo for a practice match with another college volleyball team, the colleges that they use to play against in Miyagi were coincidentally busy with academics, something about an upcoming exam that they need to prepare for so they had to cancel.

Fortunately, with Shiratorizawa being a powerhouse school, Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei had connections to institutions outside of Miyagi. So they called up a friend who’s currently handling a college volleyball team and requested for a practice match.

The singing lasted for another thirty minutes before they eventually fell asleep, the bus now quiet. Washijou-sensei who was seated up front, let out a sigh of relief, thankful for the silence, something that Semi and Reon didn’t fail to notice. The two chuckled, as strict as he may be, Washijou-sensei knows when to let his players have their fun, he isn’t exactly a killjoy like some had thought. He’s actually very nice, once you get to know him of course.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“You’re allowed to go sightseeing but please always bring a buddy with you, to prevent anyone from getting lost” his eyes landed on the older members, silently asking them to keep a close eye on their two first years. “Washijou-sensei and I will be meeting up with Coach Sasaki, so be back before 11”

Everyone nods their heads at his words before the two finally entered the elevator once it reaches your floor. The hotel you were staying at was a bit high class, you don’t know how the club’s fund covered it, but you weren’t complaining.

Each one of you had your own separate room, each guest had three food slips with, one was a free access to an eat-all-you-can food at the dining area’s buffet, while the other two were for a free breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

“So...” Tendou turned around, a grin plastered on his face as he held up the food slip the receptionist gave earlier. “Let’s go fill up our belly and enjoy Tokyo’s nightlife”

With that all nine of you piled into the elevator and press the button for the ground floor, the space a little too tight for your liking. The elevator stops at another floor, two new people entered, resulting in them moving backward to create a space for the newcomers, leaving you to press yourself to the wall.

“Sorry (Y/n)” Ushijima whispered, after accidentally stepping on your foot, he looks over his shoulder as you gave him a thumbs up. Your face now buried on his shirt, his perfume entering your nostrils.

He sure does smell nice, no wonder the girls are after him.

Luckily, for you, your struggle did not last long because finally, the elevator reaches the bottom floor. You swore you almost past out because of how cramp that space was, you feel like you were starting to develop claustrophobia because of it. For a fancy hotel, they sure have very small elevators.

Your group weaves through the other guest inside the hotel, some of them going back to their rooms; some were going the same way as you all were, while the others were going out to enjoy whatever Tokyo has to offer.

“Tokyo hotels are on another level” you whispered, following after them as they went over to where the eating utensils were placed. You carefully scanned the foods displayed, cuisines coming from different countries were all too delicious-looking, you feel like you want to have a plate of each.

“You’re drooling (Y/n)” you heard Shirabu say as he walks past you, the person that was standing behind the counter chuckled as you rub the spit that unknowingly trickled down your chin.

“Sorry”

“It’s fine” she laughs again before she suggested the lamb meat for you to taste. You haven’t tried lamb before so you accepted her offer, watching as she threw in a bunch of slices into the grill. “Well done or medium?”

“Well done please” she started tossing the meat around the steel griddle, the wonderful smell reaching your nose. It smelled so delicious, as the meat slowly turns to that familiar charred look of a well-cooked meat. Once she was done, she places it on your plate as she suggested for you to drizzle it with some of the sauce near the grills.

You moved from one area to another, filling your plate with foods before finally taking a seat on the table they occupied.

“Now we know who are the best people to bring to buffets” Yamagata mused, eyeing yours and Goshiki’s plate filled with different kinds of food, not only that, there were at least one or two more plates on the side also filled with foods.

“They’re big eaters”

Kawanishi took a piece of meat from your plate, exchanging it with a fried dumpling that he accidentally dipped in a spicy sauce. He can handle his spice, however, this particular dip was so spicy his mouth was burning from it.

“Kawanishi-san why…?” you took the glass of cold water Ushijima offered you as you drank it all. It didn’t help though, your mouth was still burning, so Semi fed you a spoonful of chocolate ice cream, the dessert finally easing the flames in your mouth.

“Sorry (Y/n)” Kawanishi bit his lip to stop the smile threatening to come out, secretly sharing a low five with Tendou from under the table. However, that didn’t go unnoticed from Semi’s watchful eyes, stepping on the red head’s foot, Semi shoots him a pointed look as Tendou tries to remove his leg.

“Ow, ow, Semi-Semi that hurts”

The setter didn’t listen to him and continued eating his meal, they all ate in silence after that. Too hungry to strike a conversation with each other, their attention focus on the food in front of them.

Dinner went by fast, once they had finished their food they went out of the hotel and walk through Tokyo. The streets are a little too crowded than the ones they’re used to in Sendai, passing by different kinds of coffee shops, restaurants, inns, and hotels. The choices were endless, it all depends on where you all plan to go.

“Let’s go there first, I want to buy some manga” Tendou pointed at a rather large book shop just across the street, customers walking in and out of the store, wrapped packages in hand.

The inside was filled with rows and rows of shelves full of books, such as novels, textbooks, and of course, manga, on the sides were a section for school supplies and other similar materials. Tendou looks like he’s in heaven because the store offers manga that wasn’t available in Sendai. The moment his foot steps inside the store, he immediately disappeared behind the shelves where the manga was displayed.

“Wasn’t this the book Yato-sensei told us to buy?” Shirabu opened the textbook, skimming through its contents.

“Its ¥2,000” Kawanishi taps the price tag of the same book he’s holding. Shirabu pinches his lips together, closing the book and putting it back to where it belonged.

“Nope, I’ll just borrow from the library”

They move to the end of the aisle to see you holding a basket filled with different kinds of stationeries, Reon and Ushijima also going through the pens and notebooks they had on display before dropping it inside the basket you were holding.

“That’s a lot of pens (Y/n)” Goshiki drops a couple packs of sticky notes in your basket before grabbing a pen and examining it. The little penguin at the top sparking his curiosity as he clicks it, the ball-point emerging from the bottom part of the object.

“My pen’s keeps on disappearing, along with my highlighters and I don’t know who’s taking them” Goshiki stayed quiet at your reply, blinking at you, once, then twice before he slowly returned it in the basket. Reon let out a quiet laugh, fully aware that it was Goshiki who keeps taking your school supplies and not returning them.

Goshiki grabs three more pens and two more highlighters, the exact number of stationeries he took then dropping it in the basket. “I’ll buy these for you (Y/n)-chan”

You smiled at him in gratitude, standing in line at the cashier. “Thank you ‘Tomu-kun”

After paying for the items, you were once again back to the cold street. Aimlessly walking towards your next destination.

“Let’s go to a karaoke bar” Yamagata suggested, zipping up his jacket as the cold had become a little too much for him. Letting out a shiver from the cold air.

“Sure” they located the nearest karaoke bar, entering the establishment. They paid for the amount required for a one-hour session, before entering an empty room. Semi, Tendou, and Yamagata going for the songbook and choosing what song they’re going to sing, while you, Goshiki, and Ushijima went through the menu instead.

“So who’s first?” Tendou’s hand shot up as Yamagata gave him the mic, pressing his song’s code as the title flash on the screen.

“You’re singing Lion King?” Semi laughs watching as Tendou dance around to the song’s opening beat.

“The song has been stuck in my head for a long time now” the redhead cleared his throat before he started singing the first verse.

“There’s a Japanese version of that song?” Kawanishi whispered in surprise, Tendou’s jolly voice and merry demeanor fitting so well with I Just Can’t Wait To Be King’s upbeat tune. It was as if the song was made for him.

10:15pm.

There were only 15 minutes left before the one hour expires, Shirabu was singing some sort of heartbreak song, while sitting on top of Kawanishi who was laying sideways munching on some chips. Totally unbothered by the weight on top of him.

The setter ends his song, a cue for everyone to start packing their stuff and go back to the hotel before Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei catches them still walking around after curfew.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

It’s been three hours since you went to bed and unfortunately not once were you able to get a wink of sleep, nightmares were plaguing your mind. Two people, you’ve never met before constantly visits you in your dreams. It was a man and a woman, you couldn’t see their face but their voices you could hear.

They sometimes try to talk to you, asking how you were doing, if you were alright, or simply saying words of encouragement whenever you were feeling down. Sometimes they were accompanied by another girl, a teenager, who looks like the 15-year-old version of your aunt.

Once again, you turned on your side, pulling your blanket a little closer, screwing your eyes shut. However, it wouldn’t work, so you sat up, and check your phone.

1:30 am.

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating whether or not you should bother one of your teammates. They had a game tomorrow and you don’t want to disturb their sleep, but you were getting restless, and you’re afraid that you might not be able to fall asleep at all.

Finally making up your mind, you got up from your bed, grabbing your phone, key card, before exiting your room. Walking down the hallway towards Goshiki’s room, you have a feeling he’s still awake since he likes to play games until the wee hours of the night.

Standing on his door, you knock twice, pulling at the bottom of your shirt as you look left and right. The empty hallway looking a little too creepy for your liking, you knock again and this time it finally opened, a half-asleep Goshiki greeting you.

“(Y/n)?” he rub his eyes as he opened the door wider, letting you inside. “Did you have nightmares again?”

You nodded your head. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Sure” you followed him to his bed as he took the other side and you on the other. Both of you laying under the covers facing each other. “Better now?”

“Yes, thank you” he gave you one last sleepy smile before closing his eyes. So far, Goshiki was the only one who knows of your nightmares, after he discovered you one time during your first training camp crying under a table.

He was the one who comforted you and offered to let you sleep with him, it somehow became a routine and whenever you would knock on his door, he immediately knows what’s wrong.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The door to Goshiki’s room burst open as a group of panicked Shiratorizawa upperclassmen barge into the room. Goshiki having heard of his door nearly tearing off its hinges, sat upon his bed. “Senpai?”

Semi marches over to him, grabbing his shoulders and basically shaking him awake. “(Y/n)’s gone, she’s not in her room. We can’t find her anywhere”

“What?”

“Oh man, oh man. If the coach finds out we’re screwed” Yamagata and Tendou grips their hair in frustration, as Reon and Ushijima discuss the possibilities of your disappearance. Kawanishi and Shirabu though were the only ones calm in this situation.

“Huh?” Goshiki’s brain still wasn’t working though as he still sat there in a daze, unaware of the growing problem his upperclassmen were having.

Kawanishi ruffles his hair as he looks around the room, shifting from one foot to another, before his eyes landed on a lump he failed to notice before that was beside the first year. He taps Shirabu on the shoulder then pointing at the said lump, who was starting to move, leaning dangerously close to the edge of the bed before falling off and landing on the floor with a thud. Bringing the blanket along with them.

“What?” they watch as you continued to snore away on the floor, the fall clearly didn’t affect you in the slightest.

Shirabu shots Goshiki a look of suspicion as the rest shakes you awake. “Why is (Y/n) sleeping with you?”

He didn’t really get any answer because Goshiki just looks at him, still half-asleep.

A scandalized gasp left Tendou’s lips as he points a shaky finger towards the spiker. “Did you and (Y/n) do something? You’re only first years, wait until you’re in college!”

“Satori, what are you talking about?”

“Tendou, I think you took this the wrong way” Ushijima’s hand landed on Tendou’s shoulder, as the redhead whips his head to the captain.

“But Wakatoshi-kun you can’t be too sure!”

“(Y/n) probably got scared and went to Tsutomu for help” Reon started pushing them all out of the room. Semi carrying you, still wrap in Goshiki’s blanket, leaving the first year still sitting on his bed. Once his door clicks shut, he fell back on his bed and went back to sleep.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“Let’s have a good game!”

You carefully arrange the water bottles and towels on the bench as your team and the college team had their match. Diligently doing your duties as a manager.

“Hello” you look up to see your opponents’ manager standing there, giving you an easy smile, stretching out her hand for you to take. “My name is Mikana Ritsu, nice you meet you”

“(L/n) (Y/n), nice to meet you too Mikana-san” you answered, grasping her hand and giving it a firm shake.

She took a seat on the spare bench, with you taking the place beside her. “I didn’t know they had a manager, are you new?”

“Yes, I’m a first year. I started just a few months ago”

She let out a hum in response as the both of you observe the game in silence, leaving your spot once in a while to assist your respective players before sitting back down again and watching the game. From beside you, Mikana lets out a long yawn as she covers her mouth with the clipboard she’s holding.

“Are you tired Mikana-san?”

She nodded, another yawn leaving her lips. “I had to stay up very late last night for my research paper” she chuckled. “Sleep is very hard to come by when you’re in college”

You turn to look at the older girl, a question forming in your mind due to your curious nature. “Mikana-san, how is college like?”

She taps her chin for a moment, looking up at the ceiling to figure out the best answer for your question. “It’s an emotional roller coaster you know? One moment you’re smiling, then the next you’re crying your eyes out”

She turns her body to look at you. “I remember during my first year that my history teacher vowed to fail all of us because the school has enough students already”

You look at her incredulously, surprised at what she said.

“She made her exams and quizzes very difficult, and her projects were also very ridiculous” she huffs in annoyance, bad memories resurfacing. “We didn’t understand at first why she was doing it, but eventually we found out that she was having problems with her dissertation and she’s taking out all her frustrations on us”

You stared at her wide-eyed, your mouth open agape. The fuck? “We all passed though, so suck for her”

“That was just mean”

“I know right?” she lets out a sigh, before standing up from her seat and re-wrapping their setter’s fingers with tape. Tying it to his preferred tightness before she went back to her spot and him going back into court. “Then we have our thesis”

“Oh yeah, I sometimes see students having breakdowns because of it. Is it really that bad?”

“The process of doing it is very hard, because not only do you have to choose your own topic, you have to choose a very specific one and one that has a lot of references available” you nodded your head, listening to her every word. “Getting rejected is fairly common, so you have to go through the process again and then present it to your panelist”

“When you do your defense, is it scary?”

She laugh at your choices of words, but she can’t really deny it though, because she did felt scared whenever they had a defense. “It’s nerve-wracking honestly, you have to prepare an answer for every possible question or else they’ll reject your paper”

“And you have to repeat all over again” she nods. “That’s so tiring”

“It is, but we have to comply or else we’ll never graduate”

“True”

You both talk throughout the game, until the final whistle was blown and the match finally ended, your team winning the match.

“Shiratorizawa High is still as strong as ever I see” she mused, watching as both teams gave each other a bow. “Congratulations (L/n)-chan”

“Thank you Mikana-san”

You both went on your separate ways, tending to your own players. Giving them their towels, and water bottles along with their snacks. After your final goodbye, you all entered the bus, driving back towards your hotel. It was still early, 3:00 pm in Tokyo is still very lively compared to in Sendai. Most people prefer to stay indoors due to the intense heat, however, a bustling city will always be busy no matter what time of the day.

“We’ll be leaving early tomorrow, so if any of you have anything buy. Souvenirs and other things, you can do so right now. But as always, bring a buddy with you and be back by 11” Coach Saito reminded one last time, before he and Washijou-sensei went inside the hotel, probably to rest and get some sleep before they go out again.

“I actually have some things to buy at the mall” Semi started adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“Me too” Yamagata said, rummaging through his bag to find his phone, he almost started panicking when he didn’t saw it, but immediately let out a relieved sigh when he saw the device hiding under his sweaty shirt.

“We saw some souvenir shops a few blocks away from here, we’ll be over there”

Once everything was settled and everyone had decided where they want to go. You all separated, Semi, Reon, Ushijima, Yamagata, and Shirabu going to the mall to buy the things they needed while you, Tendou, Kawanishi, and Goshiki decided to walk around instead.

Going through the various shops that were selling different types of souvenirs from shirts to mugs, to keychains and other kinds of stuff.

“(Y/n)-chan, do you have my phone with you?” Goshiki patted his pockets as he looks for the said device.

“It’s in my bag” to patted the backpack you were carrying, adjusting it on your shoulder before letting out a groan at how heavy it is. “Kawanishi-san can we exchange bags? This one’s very heavy”

He nodded his head, pulling the strap over his head as you exchange bags, you let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the strain on your shoulders are now gone. The smell of freshly cook taiyakis catching your attention as the four of you speedwalk towards the stall making it, the food still hot and fresh.

“Ah, hot, hot, hot” Tendou rapidly let out a breath of air to cool down the burning of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Not expecting for it to be too hot.

You gently blew on your taiyaki, waiting for it to cool down, before you started taking small bites. As your group resume walking along the streets, you spotted a shop filled with trinkets, calling for their attention you all entered the store.

They had a wide range of displays, and although some were a bit expensive, it wasn’t stopping you from buying what you want. The allowance your Aunt gives you every week could literally last you a month, and so any extra money you had, you deposit it in your bank account and wait for the time when you have to use it.

Walking over to Kawanishi, you took your wallet from your bag before you walk off to where they had plushies on display, that dolphin plushy the only thing on your mind right now. Taking the dolphin from its spot on the shelf, you examined it, before looking at a similar one but this time it was a bit bigger. Not too much, so you were contemplating which one to buy.

“The big one looks very comfy though” Goshiki appears beside you, holding a scarf, a cap, and a sweater. “You can snuggle it to sleep”

“Yeah, but don’t you think it’s a little too big?”

He observes the two carefully taking in their size, but still, he preferred the bigger one, so you followed his suggestion.

“Oh! Why not take this one too?” he grabs a tomato plushie of the same size. “Tomato-chan~”

You flick him on the forehead. “I can’t believe you’re sticking with that nickname”

“It’s funny though” he grinned at you.

“Tsutomu, (Y/n) let’s go” the both of you didn’t hear Tendou called you out, as the two of you stayed there. Goshiki insisting that he buys the tomato plushie for you, while you immediately denying his offer because it was already too much. It cost about a thousand yen, and he still has the items he’s holding. Not only that, you still remembered how he bought you those pens and highlighters last night.

The bell hanging at the top of the door rang as the two middle blockers left the shop, unknowingly leaving the two of you behind.

They cross the street, turning a few more corners. Before they were back to the same book store everyone went to last night. Tendou wanting to buy a few more mangas, then Kawanishi forgot he needs to buy a new calculator because he broke his old one. He could just buy one in Sendai, but why wait when he could just do it now?

“(Y/n) can you get my wallet? It’s in the-“ Kawanishi turns around, but no signs of the two first years. He looks from left to right, thinking that maybe they’re just around the corner, but alas, there were no Goshiki, and (Y/n).

“Uh… Tendou-san” Kawanishi tugs on the red head’s jacket as Tendou turns around.

“Hmm, what is it Taichi?”

“(Y/n) and Tsutomu are gone”

Tendou’s eyebrows furrowed as he looks behind the second year, thinking that maybe he was just pulling a prank on him, but still, like before, no first years in sight.

“Oh dear”

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“I can’t believe you actually bought the tomato plushie” you stared at the red-colored plush inside the bag you were holding. Both of you exiting the shop.

“Told you I’d buy it” he looks proud though, you don’t know why, but you’re very grateful for the gift. You note to yourself to get him something in return in the future. “Are Tendou-san and Kawanishi-san still inside?”

“Maybe” he went back inside the shop, as you waited outside the door. When he went back out, he looks worried, which also made you worried.

“Something wrong?”

“They’re not inside”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He rub his arms, as he went back inside again to check. But still, they weren’t there anymore, walking back out, he shook his head.

“Did they just left us?”

“Probably”

“Should we go find them?” you started fidgeting on your spot, before you remembered, you had Kawanishi’s bag with you. Opening his bag you located his phone only to be left disappointed when you find out it’s dead. “Great, now we can’t contact them”

“Should we go back to the hotel instead?”

“I don’t even know which way our hotel is”

Both of you shared a heavy exhale, retracing your steps to where you both felt your hotel was located. However, you both accidentally took a wrong turn and were now in a different part of the city.

“I knew leaving that place was a bad idea”

“Oh. Aren’t you two from Shiratorizawa?” you saw two persons walking over your direction, wearing a light green and yellow track jacket and track pants.

“Yes” you answered, the one who was currently talking looks nice, you don’t know about his companion though. Even with half of his face covered with a mask, you could still feel the intensity of his stare.

“Ah. I’m Komori Motoya, and this is Sakusa Kiyoomi” he pointed to his friend. “We’re from Itachiyama, we went against your school before”

Itachiyama, the school is familiar, but these two? Not very much. However, they seem nice.

“Are the others with you?” Komori looks around the vicinity. “I don’t see them”

“Uh…”

“You got lost didn’t you?” it was Sakusa who asks this time and Komori let out a laugh.

“We can’t contact them because this phone is dead-” you showed them Kawanishi’s phone. “-and it’s also the only one we have right now”

Komori turns to look at Sakusa. “You have Ushijima’s number right? Why don’t you give him a call, they might be worried right now”

Wordlessly, Sakusa fished his phone from his pocket and dialed your captain’s number, pressing the loudspeaker button. It rang a few times before Ushijima finally picks up.

“Hello?”

“We found your stray” Sakusa answered before putting the phone in front.

“Ushijima-san!”

”(Y/n)? Goshiki? Where are you two?”

You both look at the two, but Komori answered for you. “We’re in front of the Kamakura coffee shop, where are you?”

“In front of the Marimo bookstore [1]”

“Alright stay there, we’ll be there in ten minutes”

“Alright”

The call ended and the four of you made your way towards the bookstore, Komori was the only talkative one between the two, instantly befriending the both of you. Although Sakusa would sometimes participate in the conversation, majority of it, he prefers to listen.

“So, what are you doing here in Tokyo?” Komori questioned.

“We had a practice match with a college team today” Goshiki answered, holding your hand to avoid getting separated from the group, his initial fear from when he discovered you two got left behind still present.

“Are teams in Miyagi too weak to handle Shiratorizawa?” Sakusa’s eyes momentarily shift in your direction before focusing forward.

“I guess so” you shrug your shoulders, you were told no high schools in Miyagi wants to have a joint practice with your school anymore, and you don’t really know the reason behind it. So you can’t really say they’re all weak.

Thankfully ten minutes later, you arrive at Marimo Bookstore to see your seniors waiting in front of the building in worry.

“(Y/n), Tsutomu. There you are!” Tendou was about to give you two a big hug, but Semi beat him to it by bonking the two of you on the head.

“You idiots! What did I say about wandering around?!”

“We weren’t wandering around! We were just inside the shop when Tendou-san and Kawanishi-san left us!” you replied with a pout, rubbing your head as Semi shot the two a glare as they both look away. Kawanishi casually whistling a tune whilst Tendou rocks himself back and forth on the soles of his feet.

“Well, we’ve delivered the package. We have to go now, see you guys next time” Komori wave your group goodbye as Reon and Semi said their thanks.

Sakusa gave Ushijima a nod before turning around. “See you at nationals Wakatoshi”

“Of course”

They both left, their tall figures disappearing into the crowd, as your group went back to your hotel. Upon arriving at your lodging, you stumbled along with Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei near the entrance, the two older men inquiring of your shopping spree. Everyone answered the question as honestly as they could, leaving out the details of yours and Goshiki’s little accident.

Satisfied, they both left while your group went back to your own room to enjoy the rest of your stay, and to avoid any more mishaps.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

[1] anyone here who also watches sekai-ichi hatsukoi?

a/n: the idea from the college convo between Mikana and reader was inspired from a conversation I had with a mutual hehehe, though not word per word but just the overall gist of it. Dear, if you’re reading this you know who you are. ;)

also, my team stories aren’t suppose to contain any romance, yet here I am lowkey shipping Goshiki and reader.

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sweeethinny · 4 years ago

Text

The First Time of Three

I know I have a one shot of Ginny saying she’s pregnant for the first time, but I think this one is much better and I don’t know why I didn’t put it here

maybe I'll do two more chapters, where they find out about Albus and Lily, if you like it and want :) but if you don’t want to, maybe I’ll do it anyway :))))

part 2 | part 3 | ao3

Harry and Ginny had been married for three years - they lived together for five - so he knew very well when something was wrong. And at that moment, something was off the rails at the Potter house. It was a typical Friday, their apartment was the same way he turned when he left for work around five in the morning, and as a reward for going to train idiotic Aurors so early, Harry won the weekend off, as well as leaving long before nine. Ginny wasn't there yet, her training was over at seven, and the clock announced that had barely reached 6PM, which gave him an hour to get the house in order and prepare a special dinner. The apartment wasn't too big, they had trouble finding one that could put a fireplace and chimney without looking crazy - the neighbors used the electric ones, but the Flu still needed the fire - and there, away from the Muggle center, near an old library and a Dutch bakery, they succeeded. They lived on the top floor, didn't worry about breaking the Secrecy Act (it was an almost empty neighborhood) and the neighbors were lovely. The lady in front thought Teddy was simply one of the most behaved and kind boys she'll ever meet in her 70s, and she always tried to give him cookies and other when Harry's godson went to the godfather's house. And the downstairs neighbor, a man not much older than him, clearly had a thing for Ginny, but Harry didn't blame him, who wouldn't? Moreover, he had never done anything but seem shy as she passed, or gave them good morning and good night politely - when only Harry passed by, Edmund made a point of also saying hello to him, sometimes bringing up subject matter about Muggle football, and the man thought it was a way to hide his platonic love. The décor of the house was also not bad, had a bit of both in each room, and Ginny even found beautiful cutlery that he had bought to display on one of the kitchen shelves - he didn't even use all the knives, however. There was a picture of the two in some picture frames, memories of their travels together, gifts that ended up winning at the wedding.. Harry considered it a beautiful and cozy house. Obviously, when they were going to have a child, there might not be the safest place, Ginny always reminded him; It was very tall, and the windows were absurdly large, there were many corners, the stairs were slippery and short, and a child, even more witch, needed considerable space to live, mainly not to explode in magic in front of muggles. That's why they programmed to try to get pregnant in two years. And Harry was happy about it. After finally putting the house in order - with the help of magic - and putting dinner on fire, Harry noticed what was wrong in that whole situation. Living with Ginny for four years made him know her in ways he wouldn't, unless he saw her on a day-to-day life. The way she tends to tidy things up too much when she's sad, or how she makes everything messy when she's nervous and angry. Not silly things like the sofa blanket or the shoes on the door, but personal objects that are usually organized so that they are easily accessible. And it's when he finds her quidditch kit all messed up, that he knows something's wrong. Harry doesn't remember doing anything to cause anger, it wasn't the last week of the month, when everything got a little rough and she tended to get tearful and implying, and there wasn't a big game for the next two months. His brothers-in-law haven't been breaking scary news or anything, he'd spent the last few hours with Ron, knew if it was something like that, and Hermione didn't seem to be in trouble either, and that had left him on alert. He didn't know what to expect. There was a noise in their living room, feet stumbling against the carpet and a bunch of 'forbidden' words being exalted by his beloved wife, that way that would make a sailor ashamed. ‘’God, Merlim, Harry!. You're here --’’ It was the first thing she said as soon as she saw him, her brown eyes tinned and looking a little pale, still half-soiled from flu dust ‘’Robards..He let me go earlier, maybe he had a little pity in his heart. If he has one’’ Harry came up and kissed her on the lips, still a little tense ‘’Alright?’’ He stroked her freckled cheek, trying to find out where the problem was ‘’Yeah, I was just surprised’‘ Looking over her husband's shoulder, toward the kitchen that was separated by a workbench in the living room '’Making dinner, Mr. Potter? Uh, what did your wife do to deserve this?’’ He went back to the other environment, taking another look at the chicken ‘’She kissed me this morning, when I accidentally woke her up at 4:30, instead of simply kicking my balls’’ The redhead laughed behind him, still looking a little pale and too dodging, sitting at the table and dropping her suitcase anyway (Which was another sign of trouble) ‘’She's really adorable’’ Harry nodded, picking up the wine and the glasses ‘’Ah... I.. erm, I don't want’‘ ‘’It's Friday. Do you want a beer?’’ Ginny denied it again ‘‘I don't think I'm going to take anything like that’‘ She made a grimace ‘’Stomach upset?’’ She complained about some heartburn last week, maybe that's it, wasn't it? ‘’Something like.. Well, actually’’ Ginny didn't look at him at first, analyzed her nails and sanded their wedding ring on her finger, seeming to think. For a moment, Harry thought she'd leave him ‘’I'm pregnant’‘ Harry sat down, taking time to put the glasses and wine on the table rather than simply drop them on the floor ‘’Oh, no wine for you then’’ It was the dumbest thing, but he could only say that. He'd be... Father? And as if it finally came into his mind, he embraced her. Harry had a few moments of epiphany where he understood that it was all over and he could move on with his life normally; when he asked Ginny to marry him, and consequently when they married. And now this. Talking about the desire to be a father was like when he wanted to kiss her as a teenager, a distant dream with stones on the way; his work, that of Ginny.. ‘’And your games?’’ They parted, she seemed a little less frightened ‘’I've been estranged, it's dangerous and it goes against the rules. I didn't even train today, I just signed the papers’’ Her glowing brown eyes made him fall to his knees in front of her, intertwining her fingers in his ‘’It's not fair. I'll ask to be away too’’ Ginny laughed, kissing the knots from her husband's hand ‘’Don't do that, Harry. It's your career’‘ ‘’It's yours too!’’ Argh, he wanted to do something about it, she'd be carrying his offspring for nine months... ‘‘I'd take my chances too... the baby can't live without a father’’ Harry didn't notice the gravity of what he had spoken, until Ginny fixed the look above his head, the tears pinioning there ‘’Sorry, I didn't want to...’‘ ‘’.. I can barely find out That I'm pregnant, and I'm already a weeping woman’’ And as only your wife would, Ginny complained, turning her eyes and looking angry ‘’I don't want you to walk away, really, it won't make me happy to see you stay at home. I forbid you..Besides, it's only nine months, and I ... Gwenog said I can always come back after the baby is born. She said that I will not lose my place.’’ Harry swallowed the laugh, his heart beating furious in his chest ‘’We scheduled for two years from now, Harry...’‘ ‘’I know, but. we're still going to love him, and figure it out in organizing everything’‘ ‘’The windows.. heavens, they are so big and do not have the sinst protection. And the stairs!’’ The two remained silent, swallowing dry ‘’We're going to figure it out, Gin.. Are you happy?’‘ ‘’For Merlim's sake, Harry! Of course I'm.. When I saw the result... We were such irresponsible teenagers’’ So they laughed, because for some reason, it was funny to think that they would have to face the problems Molly went through ‘’Ron and I drove a car to Hogwarts! Twelve years old!’’ Ginny nodded, messing with her love's hair, wondering if the baby would come the same. ‘’You're going to be daddy’’ And without much control of his emotions, Harry felt his eyes pinioning in tears too. Father. He had survived to that point where he would become someone's father. If for Teddy he was already an irresponsible godfather most of the time, being a father... ‘’Since when do you know?’‘ ‘’This morning. After you left I felt that heartburn again and when I complained to Mrs. MacLean, she told me it could be pregnancy, so I looked for a healer who wasn't going to spread the seven winds, and.. I was pregnant. A month and a half. On your vacation’’ Of course, after spending time away from home, that week they spent at home, enjoying every room in the house, they would have to result in something. ‘’I love you’’ Harry kissed her again, this time with all his being ‘’I love you too. Promise me you'll continue to love me, even if I get tearful and ugly’’ The man laughed, trying to imagine a world where he didn't love her ‘’I promise’’ But instead of a kiss, he got a slap on the shoulder ‘’Can you imagine me getting ugly?!’’ The two laughed, again, while she passed her hand on her belly still straight ‘’We will be parents’’. ‘’Yes, Mom’’ Harry smiled, happier than ever, feeling almost his skin tear.

When that he would imagine feeling.. This? ‘’The stairs and the windows...’‘ ‘’.. We'll figure it out, Gin’’ Guaranteed, the heart galloping in the chest ‘’I promise’’ And then, as if to do it millions of times, kissed her belly. Once again, he would appreciate it to be alive

#ginny #ginny potter #harry X ginny #hinny #hinnyheadcanon #hinny fluff #Harry Potter #harry potter being dad #harry one shot #next gen harry potter #hinny being a parents #baby james sirius is on the way #James Sirius Potter

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