#like coming from school and hurriedly freshing up to not miss the match

[myauditionfordrphil]

It's October again and my feed is full of wc 2023 reels reminding me that this is when it all started.

[mochiable]

— how you met nct dream.

anon request: hello! i don’t know if you take this type of request but i would love a scenario on how you meet nct dream ot7 if it’s possible, thank you!

warning: one swear word

wc: 1.5k

₊˚✧┆𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞

you had been watching that cute boy on the badminton court playing with his friends ever since you had started working in the gym and you couldn't help but become more and more interested in him with each passing day. the noises he made when he hit the shuttlecock, the whimpers that came from his pink fluffy lips when he missed the expected shot and the way he frowned and puckered his mouth when his partner missed were some of your favourite things about going to work. yet you had never been able to strike up a conversation. never until this day, when his friends decided to take a break and go watch the football match, while he preferred to stay and practice a bit more.

"you're good," you complimented him once you approached him and threw him a bottle of water, which he managed to catch on the fly. "thank you," he replied flashing you a shy smile, causing his cheekbones to bulge. "where did you learn all that?" you asked sitting down on the bench at the side of the court. he turned to look at you nervously, setting the bottle down once he had taken a sip. "my father... well... he taught me, i guess," he replied, averting his gaze to anywhere on the court except your eyes. "and what do you like best about it?" you questioned him, watching the feather he was playing with bounce on the ground. "ahhh, i... i like badminton, i mean... i like it a lot, like... the... the... the rackets are really nice," he replied trying to find the right words, looking even more tender than ever and causing a smile to form on your lips. but just then his friends arrived, so you stood up and approached him. "nice to meet you, mark," you bowed your head and he copied you, failing to hide the blush on his cheeks.

₊˚✧┆𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡

you snorted once more when the card of the hotel you were staying at wouldn't open the door. you had just taken a dip in the pool and were starting to get cold from wearing only a t-shirt over your swimsuit. you had already used every curse word the dictionary had and still the door wouldn't open. until suddenly you heard a click and it did, so you hurriedly tried to enter. however, something a little softer than the door blocked your way, making you bump into it or, rather, into someone.

“can i help you with something?” the boy smiled kindly as two others a little taller than him appeared from behind. you frowned, looking at the number painted on the door and then looking at the number written on your card. it was then that you realised your mistake, “shit! sorry, sorry. i've got the wrong room,” you apologised, trying to hide your embarrassment and nervousness. “is your room next door?” he asked leaning the side of his body against the door frame, to which you nodded, “i hope to see you again then,” he spoke, as the other two boys who hadn't moved yet tried to hide their laughter. you smiled still a little self-consciously and turned around with the intention of getting out of there. “nice outfit, by the way.”

₊˚✧┆𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗢

you were taking the dog for a walk in the park as you usually did, but this day was a bit different. you let the dog loose, trusting him completely, although you regretted it after a second when you saw how he ran away from you, starting to chase a boy riding his bike. you ran after him, calling his name and wishing you were born with more stamina, because your lungs weren’t strong enough for that. the boy slowed down when he noticed the animal running after him, who didn't think twice before jumping on top of him and knocking him off his bike, licking his face while getting petted. when you managed to get to where they were, you apologised repeatedly, getting several "don't worry" from the boy, smiling with amusement at your furry friend.

“i hope your dog doesn't attack me again,” he laughed softly, hopping on his bike and riding off, reassuring you that there would definitely be a next time.

₊˚✧┆𝗛𝗔𝗘𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡

in the summer you worked in a flower shop, you didn't get paid much but it was enough to pay for your studies. that day, your boss sent you to the most famous dance company in your city to deliver a bouquet with yellow sunflowers, something strange you had to admit.

leaving the lift you bumped into a handsome guy who apologized for not having noticed and almost destroying those beautiful flowers. as an apology he offered to guide you to your destination and you, a bit shy, accepted shyly. you could notice the look of confusion when you pointed out where you should deliver the sunflowers and, when you entered the room, he didn't hesitate to speak.

“so the flowers are for me, you’re the one sending them?” he approached them to smell their soft, fresh scent and then looked at you with a twinkle in his eye. you shook your head slightly, watching an amused pout form on his handsome face, “how bad, i would’ve wished to receive such a gift from someone so pretty.”

₊˚✧┆𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡

Songpa Naru Park was perhaps your favourite place to spend the afternoon when you didn't have too much to do. coming here, watching the almond blossoms swaying in the wind, listening to the swallows singing and watching families having a good time were your favourite images. you couldn't miss the photographs, you were nobody without your camera and your snapshots.

at that moment, watching the black and white ducks arguing over which part of the lake belonged to each of them, you felt a flash in your right profile, which made you startle and your camera, which was in your lap, rush to the ground. however, a big hand prevented that horrible disaster.

“forgive me,” the stranger apologised, “i didn't mean to,” he showed you his perfect white teeth as he returned the camera to your lap. “did you take a picture of me?” you asked looking in his direction, remembering that bright light. he looked at you with regret and put his hand to the back of his neck, scratching it nervously, “sorry about that too.” you gave him a tight-lipped smile and lifted your shoulders, “don't worry, it's all right,” you replied turning your gaze back to the lake, “it’s beautiful, isn't it?” you asked, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “yes, very pretty,” he replied, looking at your picture on his camera, which brought another smile to your face, a bigger one this time.

₊˚✧┆𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡𝗟𝗘

you were definitely lost. maybe if you hadn't listened to your brother, you would now be at the restaurant where your parents were waiting for you. but obviously, he didn't want to use the gps as he had "memorised the way". and this is when he forced you to roll down the car window and ask some stranger for help.

“excuse me, could you tell me where Las Torres restaurant is?” you asked a handsome guy, wearing a loose summer brown shirt. he smiled at you and asked for your phone so he could write it down for you, which you readily agreed to. “here you go. i’ve drawn you the official route, but also a small detour that will get you there faster,” he explained, handing you back the phone through the window. after thanking him and saying goodbye, he gave you a smile with a wink, which caused a slight blush to appear on your cheeks. you soon learned the reason for this gesture. he hadn't asked for your mobile phone just to guide you, but to write down his number as well.

₊˚✧┆𝗝𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚

you were having dinner with a friend at one of your favourite restaurants, celebrating the end of the school year and another year of your friendship. however, you weren't paying full attention to your friend, as you were busier watching the boy who hadn't stopped looking at you all night and who, when you looked back at him, looked away, blushing slightly. halfway through dinner you could notice his friend saying something in his ear, looking in your direction, and how the boy's eyes widened while he began to shake his head. but suddenly, the other boy stood up and, ignoring his friend's prayers, approached you with a mischievous smile on his face.

“good evening,” he greeted, interrupting your conversation and resting his hands on the table, “you've caught my friend's eye, but he's too shy and cowardly to come and ask for your number himself, so i’m here to make his dreams come true,” he addressed you with confidence and amusement, pointing to the sweet boy who was now covering his face with the tablecloth. you finally decided to write down your number on the napkin and your heart skipped a beat as the boy smiled shyly at you after receiving the piece of paper with your number written on it.

©️  MOCHIABLE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

requests are open!

main masterlist | nct masterlist

a/n: this is my very first multiple scenario and i have to admit i’m very nervous about it. i’d really appreciate it if you could provide me with some feedback and tell what do you think of it! hope you liked it, love you<3

[technicallymilkshakes]

Something Better than Tomorrows

A quarantine au oneshot Genre(s): Fluff Pairing: Xiumin x Reader  Word Count: 2k

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he answers back softly. “I'm here.”

You kiss the door. Four inches from the tips of your toes to his. The two of you are on your cellphones so you don't bother the neighbors, but you can still catch the cadence to his speech through the door. The lilt and timbre of his voice. No digitally processed sound waves can compete.

“I hate this,” he whispers.

“I brought some tteokbokki.” The plastic bag rustles as you pull out the container and pop the lid off. You're trying to distract him. Have been from the beginning. “Have you tried it yet?”

“Yeah. I think I like regular tteokbooki more.”

You make a disbelieving noise amid your chewing. Swallow. “Hm...” You pause. “I think I like regular more, too.” You smile as you hear his soft laughter.

“Dummy,” he says fondly. It's become a kind of pet name for you, one you haven't exactly discouraged. You've made a fool of yourself on more than one occasion just to make him smile. (Your favorite ones are his gummiest smiles, eye crinkled into commas, quick pauses in the language of delight.)

“What're you eating?” you ask in between bites. Your food has gone cold and it's not the most comfortable place to eat, sitting on the ground outside a hotel room door, but this is the closest you've been to Minseok in over a year. You wouldn't trade that, even for the relative comfort of your own room a couple doors down.

“'Isha,” he responds as he tears through a piece. You bet it's potato pizza—it's his favorite. “And sikhye,” he continues with a laugh. “For digestion. I sound like my grandpa. Must be getting old.”

You snort. He looks practically unchanged from when you first met him in high school and you tell him so.

“Wow,” he reflects. “Twelve years already...”

“We really are getting old.”

The line goes quiet for so long that you pull the phone away from your ear to check that it's still connected.

“Hello?”

“I'm here,” he says, but it's as if he's dragged the words out morpheme by morpheme. Like he almost doesn't want to be here. You wait him out, confident in your fluency of Minseokisms. He's too good at hiding his feelings. If you've managed to pick up on this, then it's something he wants to be known.

“I'm sorry for making you wait.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You should go. I'll be out tomorrow. I feel bad making you wait after all this time...”

Ah. So that's what this is about. You've had this argument before. Does the sea listen when you ask? Does the world lie down when you beckon? So tell me, how is it your fault? You square your shoulders, your head tilting back to lean against the door.

“Then open up.”

“What? I'm not opening the door.” He sounds shocked you'd even suggest such a thing. You can picture it—he's probably sitting up straight now, eyes wide. Sending concerned glances to the door like you'll pull a Kool-Aid man and break it down or just pick the lock.

He's talking as if you're on the opposite side of a war, not a door. As if it hasn't been over a year since you've seen him in person. As if you haven't been on two different continents, in two different time zones, with too much to worry about.

But now that you've spoken the words into existence, you can't reel them back in. They've been a bottle under pressure and you've just cracked the lid. You've been so patient. You've waited over a whole year, it's true, but having to wait another day when he's right here suddenly strikes you as an unimaginable cruelty.

“Minseok, your quarantine is up tomorrow. I'm one room down from you. Nobody's gonna even notice.”

“Still.”

You sigh. He's such a stickler for rules at the most inopportune times.

“Fine,” you say, gathering your trash and stuffing it back into the plastic bag. You stand up.

“I don't like it when you say that.”

“Why?” you ask as you walk the short distance down the hallway to your room.

“Because it means that you're gonna take things into your own hands. And that's never good.”

You laugh a full-throated laugh, the one he calls your genie laugh. He's ranked all of them. (His favorite is when he tickles you into squealing, breathless laughter. He plants adoring little kisses on the apples of your cheeks that make it worth it.)

“Aw, Minseokie, you know me so well.” You hold up the phone and make little kissy noises into the microphone.

You've made it into your room by this time and you peek outside. It's afternoon going on evening, with just enough sunlight hanging on the horizon to see. Perfect.

You throw the phone, still connected, onto the bed. You can hear tinny little reprimands, the words too muffled to discern, but his tone clear as day. You wonder how long it'll take him to notice you're not answering this time with a grin and step outside.

The balconies aren't connected, but the space is small enough that if you're straddling the balustrade, you can get a nice hold on the railing of the opposite balcony. You jerk it a few times to see if the posts hold fast. They do. You slide your other leg over and do a little jump over to the next balcony. You're not certain if this middle room is occupied, so you scurry quickly to the other side to repeat the process, only your foot gets caught between the posts and you hit the next railing full on in the stomach, knocking the wind out of yourself before you do an awkward flip and land squarely on your back on Minseok's balcony.

You catch the swish of the curtain opening, Minseok's disbelieving face gaping at you through the glass. He's still holding the phone up to his ear. He hurriedly drops it before sliding the door open. You'd be laughing at his face if you had any air left in your diaphragm. The whole railing rings like a gong has been struck and it feels like your ribs are trying to match pitch.

“Hey you,” you say with a roguish grin as soon as you're able to. Very suave-like. Zero hints of gasping fish. Definitely not.

“You big, big, huge, massive dummy,” he cries as he drops to his knees, his hands flitting over your neck and shoulders.

“I've fine.” You get up with a little help from Minseok and he guides you into his room.

You grab his hands from where they're wandering over your body, checking for injuries, and hold them. Your ego is more bruised than anything else.  

“Should've just opened the door.” You let go of one of his hands to poke his cheek.

He pulls back a bit and you let your arms fall to hang on his waist. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You're insufferable.”

“Thanks, babe,” you respond, kissing his finger.

Minseok looks at you wondrously. Even though you went through all that effort, neither of you can quite believe that you're here right now. Less than six feet apart. Your fingers find the places you have worn into each other's bodies—his sternum, the dip of your back, between his shoulder blades, the nape of your neck. Your skin still knows his touch, anticipates the slide of his hands up your sides. He is no stranger, it tells you. Reassures you that you still know him. And you can't quite express your relief to find him your lover still. It pricks at you, you see it in his eyes, too, welling up, he knows--

You find yourself in a crushing hug. He's crying.

Between the two of you, he's been the rock. You've always been the impatient one, the one in a rush. And he's the one you've always come back to, who's soothed you when you've broken yourself against the jagged edges of your own expectations.

“Just a little longer,” he'd say with such certainty, even as the world closed itself around you. He would tell you what you'd do the next time you saw each other, fairy tales that always started with 'tomorrow.'

“Tomorrow, we'll go out to the wharf.” Even though he was thousands of miles away, he'd still paint a picture of meeting you again. “The wind will be rising, tugging white caps from the waves. On the marina, the boats will clatter against the docks.” He would pull the phone away and thump against the table, or the floor, or whatever he thumped against. “We'll buy a cone of fries, and you'll run at the seagulls that get too close.”

Well, it looks like it's time for you to chase those winged fears away.

“I really, really missed you,” he whispers brokenly.

You gather him closer, anchor him against you. You'll be the breaker to all his storms. “I'm just glad you're safe,” you whisper, turning to bury a kiss in his hair. He smells of ocean spray, fresh and full of memories to remember and to make.

**

“It's too stuffy,” you say a while later, after he—after both of you have had time to calm down. You start unbuttoning your shirt to get more comfortable.

“You're not even supposed to be here, you know...”

You stare him right in the eyes as you drop your shirt on the ground and begin unzipping your jeans.

He gives you an annoyed look as he bends to pick up your shirt and starts folding it. You drop your pants with a smirk.

“You're such a brat,” he says with a roll of his eyes. He picks up your jeans, too, like you knew he would.

You chuck him under the chin with the knuckle of your thumb. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

**

Later, the two of you are in bed. He's lying between your legs, his head against your chest. He stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, his clothes folded on top of yours on a chair. All the better to maximize skin contact. It's late at night and you're drifting into that falling space between wakefulness and sleep. Occasionally, the tickle of Minseok's fingers on your thigh or his kisses on the soft inside of your arm rouse you, prompting you to drop a kiss to the top of his head or to slide a hand down his back.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he says all of a sudden.

You open your eyes.

“I haven't heard it in over a year.” He closes his eyes. He looks restful and at peace. “I didn't realize how much I missed it.”

You place a hand on his cheek. Surely this man must know how his words have crushed you.

He opens his eyes. You guide him closer to you. He sits up, and you're cradling his face in both of your hands now, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. Not a word is spoken, but he begins to smile. You can feel the swell of his cheeks as they gather up into a beatific smile.

“You don't have to miss anything anymore.

“Tomorrow, quarantine will end. We'll go out to Quick Fox to get your favorite bagels for breakfast. We'll eat at the park and people watch. And then we'll go home. You'll gasp when you see what I've done to the place and you'll spend the next five hours cleaning my mess up and complaining that you should've just stayed at the hotel. And then we'll go to sleep and wake up to another tomorrow together.”

“You're such a big dummy,” he says. He turns to kiss first one palm, then the other. “Why are you talking about tomorrow when I can do this today?”

He kisses you, a real one, no fairy tales required. Just the warm press of lips and laughter against you, the nip of teeth and teasing. He pulls back and there it is. That's the one. Your favorite smile.

Wow. Tomorrows can go kick rocks. Todays are much better.

[southsidewrites]

Frustrated || Oikawa Tooru x Reader

“What, Oikawa? What do you want to talk about?”

He bit his lip as he looked down at you, his shoulders heaving with a deep breath. “We need you at the tournament this weekend.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyebrows rose. “Seeing as I’m such a useless manager and all, I figured Suki could handle it.”

His lips pressed into a line, the irritation clear in his face. “You know you’re not a useless manager.”

“Oh wow, what a compliment,” you drawled. “Not a useless manager. I’m flattered, Oikawa, really.”

He rolled his eyes, gripping the back of his neck as he looked down at you. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He sighed. “And I need you there this weekend.”

At that, your mouth fell open—you were at a total loss for words for a moment. “You—you what?”

Summary: You're the manager of Oikawa's college volleyball team, and after nearly four straight years of bickering with the unfairly attractive captain, you reach a breaking point. Fortunately, that might be just what it takes to make him admit his feelings for you.

Word Count: 3365

Author’s Note: I never thought I’d like Oikawa, and now here I am being a thirsty bitch for him. Highkey considering writing an extra-smutty part two to this, so be sure to let me know what you think!

Cross-posted to A03.

The ball hit the ground with a gentle thud, landing just a few inches behind Oikawa. His hands were still in the air, ready for the throw that never came, and when he turned around to look at you, his face was plastered with his most charming smile.

“What happened there?” he asked, his tone sickeningly sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought he was genuinely concerned. But you did know better, and concern was definitely not what Oikawa was feeling.

You gritted your teeth, muttering something utterly inappropriate as Iwaizumi shook his head at you, reminding you that it just wasn’t worth it. As always, you were the one who had to bite your tongue when Oikawa decided to be an obnoxious dick. It had been two hours since practice ended, two hours straight of you tossing balls for Oikawa and Iwaizumi to practice their quick attack. Your arms and shoulders were already sore, reminding you just how much you’d rather be in bed.

“What was that?” Oikawa asked, flashing you that insufferable grin. “Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Nothing,” you replied, your voice low and even. You were not going to give that smug bastard the satisfaction of getting you worked up.

“Oh good!” He turned back toward the net, holding his hands in a ready position. “So, another few tosses?”

You brushed your hair out of your face, grabbing another ball from the bin. Goddamn Oikawa had somehow convinced you to stay. Unless you don’t want us to win this weekend, he had crooned, giving you that look that mimicked sincerity so well that you almost wondered if he was a psychopath. Everyone had been on edge with the Regionals tournament coming up, and the team had been practicing so much you wondered how they stayed upright.

Throwing the next ball on instinct, you cursed below your breath as it flew wide past Oikawa and out of bounds.

You could practically feel the eye roll as Oikawa turned to look at you. “You’d think after being our manager for four years, you’d be able to throw a decent toss. That is one of your only jobs, isn’t it?”

“Oikawa, don’t—”

“No need, Iwaizumi!” you snapped, whipping the next ball at the ground with a smack that made the black-haired man take a large step back. “Let me handle this one.” You crossed the court, stopping just inches from Oikawa and pulling yourself to your full height. “You know damn well that I can throw a ball, Oikawa, seeing as those were the first two I missed in the two fucking hours we’ve been here, maybe the first two I’ve missed since I got roped into this goddamn job freshman year.”

He smirked, crossing his arms as he looked down at you. “So, why are you missing them now?”

“Because it’s nearly nine at night and I haven’t been home in twelve hours!” you snapped. “Unlike you, I can’t keep going forever.” Taking a deep breath, you took a step back from him—in the four years you’d been working with the team, you had a shouted at Oikawa more than a handful of times, and you knew better than to draw it out too long. Oikawa hated to lose, and that included shouting matches with his team manager.

“I don’t remember saying we had to go forever,” he replied, a hint of an annoyed edge cracking through his cool composure. “Just until Iwaizumi and I had this attack down.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, sure, Oikawa, whatever you say.” Throwing your hands in the air, you turned to walk away from him. “I’m done, though. Find someone else to throw for you.”

“You’re done?” His eyes widened in what actually looked like genuine surprise. “You can’t be done—we still have drills to practice.”

“Wanna bet?” You kept walking, not bothering to turn around.

Iwaizumi called your name, but you ignored him, ready to go home and finally crawl into bed.

“Well, you may as well not come to the tournament this weekend, then!” Oikawa called. “Seeing as you’re done and all.”

“Sounds good to me!” You turned, mimicking his sweet smile. “Have fun at Regionals—I’ll be sure to leave Suki my clipboard.”

“Oikawa, would you just—”

“No,” he snapped, cutting off Iwaizumi. “If she wants to go, let her!”

It took all the self-control you had not to flip him an obscene gesture, but you just keep walking, storming out of the gym and into the women’s locker room. Letting the door slam behind you, you yanked off your sweatshirt, your heart racing from the argument. You flopped onto the bench, dropping your head into your hands as you tried to steady your breathing.

You hated that he had the power to get to you like that. You’d think after four years, you’d be used to his jabs, to the endless teasing and snarky remarks. He’d been that way since you met freshman year, him fresh out of high school where he had been a superstar ace setter, and you relatively new to volleyball but in desperate need of something to do outside of class.

Your relationship hadn’t been bad at first—you realized quickly that underneath the layer of asshole, Oikawa was actually a really good teammate that worked hard to make sure his team was successful. He had even been one of the first people to really give you the rundown on volleyball, making sure you were comfortable in your role before the first real match.

And then, once he was sure you knew what you were doing, the teasing really took off.

Shaking your head, you stood up, opening your locker. You knew it was just how he was, that he talked to everyone that way, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when you’d been up fourteen hours and were already stressed about how they were going to do at the Regionals tournament this weekend. If they lost, it would be the senior’s last college tournament, and Oikawa and Iwaizumi would be crushed.

You grabbed your shirt to tug it off, but before you could, the locker room door squeaked open behind you.

“Oikawa, what the hell?” You yanked the shirt back on, your cheeks heating with embarrassment when you saw who it was. “This is the women’s locker room, you asshole.”

He rolled his eyes, waving off your complaint. “I had a feeling you hadn’t changed yet—can we talk?”

Your mouth fell open slightly, and you started shaking your head. “Iwaizumi made you come in here, didn’t he?”

“Iwaizumi left right after you did,” he answered, an annoyed expression on his face. “Apparently, he’s not too happy with me either.”

“That’s because you’re an asshole.” You grabbed your bag, deciding you didn’t really need to change. Throwing it over your shoulder, you started walking past him.

A firm hand closed around your forearm. “Wait.”

The word seemed to shoot straight through you, a note of desperation making you jerk to a stop.

“What, Oikawa?” you asked, shaking your arm out of his grip. You sighed heavily and turned to look at him, your voice soft with exhaustion. “What do you want to talk about?”

He bit his lip as he looked down at you, his shoulders heaving with a deep breath. “We need you at the tournament this weekend.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyebrows rose. “Seeing as I’m such a useless manager and all, I figured Suki could handle it.”

His lips pressed into a line, the irritation clear in his face. “You know you’re not a useless manager.”

“Oh wow, what a compliment,” you drawled. “Not a useless manager. I’m flattered, Oikawa, really.”

He rolled his eyes, gripping the back of his neck as he looked down at you. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He sighed. “And I need you there this weekend.”

At that, your mouth fell open—you were at a total loss for words for a moment. “You—you what?”

He exhaled harshly, his gaze flicking away from you. “You’ve never missed a match,” he said hurriedly, the words seeming painful on his lips. “You’ve never missed a match, and I’m used to having you there.”

Stifling an amused laugh, your lips curved into a smile. “Oikawa,” you asked slowly, “are you saying that you can’t play without me?”

“I’m saying I’d rather have you there,” he retorted, the edge in his voice returning.

You were grinning widely now, thrilled by this turn of events. “No, Oikawa, I think you’re saying that you can’t play without me, that you need me there.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair frustratedly. “If that’s how you want to take it, fine, but you better be on that bus with us tomorrow.”

There was still a stunned smile on your face as you shook your head. “No.”

“No?” Oikawa’s eyes narrowed with confusion. “Did you really just say no?”

“Sure did.” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest stubbornly. “I’m not going unless you apologize.”

He scoffed, giving you an annoyed look. “Apologize? For what?”

“Well, treating me like shit, for one,” you said, mimicking his smug tone. “Maybe also for barging in on me when I could have been naked. Oh, and what about—”

Out of nowhere, Oikawa’s lips were on yours, your hands frozen at your sides as he gripped your shoulders. The kiss was quick, just long enough for the shock to pass and for you to realize that you kind of liked being kissed by Oikawa. Then, when he pulled back, his brown eyes were fixed on yours with an expression you had never seen on the confident captain’s face before—nerves.

“Oikawa, what…” you breathed, your mind spinning. “What is—why?”

He sighed, his hands drifting down your shoulders to your upper arms. “I told you, I need you at the tournament,” he said, his gaze flicking nervously away from yours. “And I obviously don’t mean as a manager.”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t daydreamed some version of this moment countless times over the past few years, but you had never expected it to come true, much less after an argument that ended in you storming off the court. In fact, you had put a lot of effort toward eliminating the crush entirely, knowing that Oikawa could have his pick of nearly any girl in the university and didn’t show even a hint of interest in you.

“Oikawa, are you serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious,” he answered, annoyed. “Damn it, can you take anything seriously?”

“Can you?” you laughed, lifting your hand to his chin to force him to look at you. “I’m pretty sure this is the first genuine thing you’ve ever said to me.”

His lips quirked into a half-grin, and you could swear he was leaning into your touch. “So, does that mean you’ll come to the tournament this weekend?”

You lifted your other hand to his hair, running it through the silky locks as you took a step closer to him. “I believe I’m still waiting for an apology.”

“Fucking apology,” he muttered, pulling you close for another kiss. “I’m not going to apologize when you’ve been too dumb to notice me flirting with you for the past three years.”

You laughed as he pushed you back into the row of lockers. “Well, then.”

“I’ll show you an apology.” He kissed you hard, his lips like fire on your skin as he trailed his way down your jaw to your neck, nipping lightly between kisses. His hands were tight on your hips, his fingertips just barely tugging against the waistband of your shorts. “Can I—” he breathed, glancing pointedly down at said shorts.

“You’re going to apologize by going down on me?” you laughed, breathless from his kiss. Just the thought of it made you shiver with desire, your clothes suddenly feeling way too constrictive.

“If you don’t stop talking, I’m not going to do anything,” he murmured, one of his hands sliding up your shirt to rest on your lower back. Holding your bodies close together, he caught your lips in another heated kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, feeling his hardness through his shorts as you arched into him. “Fuck, Oikawa,” you gasped. “Please.”

He grinned, flipping his hair off his face before crouching down. Grabbing your waistband more firmly, he slowly started pulling the material down as he pressed his lips into your hipbone.

Gripping his hair, you briefly wished you had worn sexier underwear, but you didn’t have much time to think before his lips were on your stomach, shoving your shirt up. You pulled it off the rest of the way and leaned back on the lockers, letting him do most of the work of holding you upright.

The metal was cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to Oikawa’s lips that were like fire as they trailed along the hem of your panties. He nipped and sucked, teasing his way down to your thighs and nudging them apart. “Fuck,” he breathed, looking up to see you in nothing but a bra. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His words shot straight through to your core, your hips bucking toward him as you whined needily. “C’mon, Oikawa, stop teasing.”

“Stop teasing?” he mused, his breath hot against you as he hiked one of your legs onto his shoulder. “What kind of ridiculous request is that?”

“I thought this was supposed to be my apology,” you replied, trying to use your grip on his hair to redirect him.

“Don’t make me regret telling you,” he muttered, dragging a finger up your slit and feeling the wetness through the material of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

You moaned, half-pleasure and half-annoyance. “Yeah, because you’re such a fucking tease.”

“Aw, stop trying to flatter me, beautiful, you know I have an insufferable ego.”

You rolled your eyes, choking back a moan as he pressed his fingertip roughly onto your clit. Your legs shook as you regripped his hair, doing your best to stay upright. At that, Oikawa’s impatience took over, and he yanked your panties down, dropping your legs just long enough for you to get them off.

When his fingertips dragged across your soaked pussy, it was like someone shooting fire through your veins. His touch was light, still teasing, and in drastic contrast with the intensity of his kisses.

“Oikawa,” you moaned, tipping your head back against the lockers. “Goddamn it.”

He laughed, the rumble sending shockwaves through you. “You look so good begging for me,” he mused, still gently tracing his fingers through your folds, just barely avoiding your clit. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to slam you against these goddamn lockers and just have my way with you.”

“Then have your way with me,” you begged, the sounds coming from you downright pitiful. “Please just touch my clit already.”

“Like this?” he asked, flicking his thumb against it. Your back arched, and it was only his grip on your thigh keeping your upright. “Fuck,” he chuckled, his mouth only centimeters from your pussy. “You really are needy.”

“Oh my god, Tooru,” you whined. “Stop being such an asshole.”

At the sound of his first name, Oikawa let out a low moan. With a quick glance up at your face, he lowered his lips to you, desperate to hear you moan his name again. He started with broad, slow strokes, his tongue just barely brushing against your clit before making another stroke.

“That’s it beautiful,” he murmured, sliding two fingers inside you with ease. “So, fucking tight.”

You were already on the brink of orgasm, his teasing alone enough to put you on edge. And now, with his absolutely skillful mouth on your pussy, you didn’t think you’d be able to last long.

Oikawa’s fingers were long and perfect inside you, searching out just the right spot to make you come undone. He hummed with pleasure when he brushed against the spongey patch that almost made you scream with pleasure.

You could barely even form words anymore—the combination of his fingers inside you and his tongue flicking rhythmically over your clit was sending your body into overdrive. All you could do was whimper his name, your hands in his hair as you tried desperately not to collapse on top of him. Your legs were sore, Oikawa holding them firmly apart so that you didn’t suffocate him, and you could feel your arousal running down your thighs.

Pulling away for just a second, Oikawa looked up at you with a grin. “You seem just about ready to cum all over my face, beautiful.”

You nodded hurriedly, pushing his head back toward you. “Please, Tooru, I’m so close.”

His mouth returned to your clit, alternating between sucking and flicking so quickly that the sensations started to meld together. Your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth falling open as you hurtled toward the edge.

“Tooru, I’m—fuck—I’m cumming!”

He held your thighs a bit tighter, keeping you upright as you came undone for him. Electricity seemed to shoot through you, your mind going blank of everything but his mouth on your clit and his fingers inside you. It was almost overwhelming—you had never cum so hard in your life. When you finally came down, your body was weak, being hit with little aftershocks as Oikawa slipped his fingers out.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he murmured, lowering your leg to the ground and taking a firm grip on your hips. “Fuck, you looked so good cumming for me.”

Slowly, you pulled your eyes open to see him looking at you, his brown eyes warm and his pupils blown wide with desire. You dropped your hands to his shoulders, pulling him to you for a kiss.

“That was some apology,” you murmured, holding him tight against you. “Feels like you could use a little help now, though.”

He bit back a moan as you jerked your hips into his bulge. His shorts didn’t do a good job of hiding it, and you were absolutely desperate to get him naked now.

“We don’t have to right now,” he said, his voice soft as he cupped your cheek surprisingly tenderly. “This was your apology, after all.”

You laughed, running your hands under his shirt to start pushing it off. “And you know what would really prove you’ve learned your lesson?”

“What?” he asked, grinning as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way off.

“If you fucked me,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his neck.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, pressing you back into the lockers. “I’d be happy to.”

You palmed his erection through his shorts, feeling just how hard he was for you. “Do you have a condom?”

At that, his face dropped. “Shit, no, I don’t.”

“Really?” you asked, teasing him. “The great Oikawa Tooru doesn’t keep a condom stash with him at all times?”

“I’m not a complete animal,” he muttered, rolling his hips into your hand. “And I didn’t exactly plan on getting laid tonight.”

“Fuck.” You glanced over at the clock to see it was now well after 10:00 PM. “Well, that’s probably for the best anyway since we have to be on a bus in less than eight hours.”  

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled, still keeping you pinned against the lockers. “I finally take the condoms out of my locker and then this? Fucking cursed.”

You laughed, grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss. “How about this? When you win all your matches tomorrow, you can come back to my place to celebrate?”

Smirking, he kissed you again. “And what if I don’t win all my matches?”

You rolled your eyes. “If by some miracle, some other team manages to beat you, I’ll be sure to console you appropriately.”

“Trying to make me throw my matches?” he laughed, running his hands down to your ass to squeeze tightly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jumping, you wrapped your legs around him. “So, you better win for me, got it?”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

~~~

Thanks so much for reading!! If you enjoyed this, be sure to check out my masterlist in my description, and feel free to send in requests!

[writefightandflightclub]

Return to Sender: (Richard Alonso Muñoz x GN reader)

What is this? This is 4/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. I’m not gonna share the prompt as it’s spoilery, but it was requested by @sergeantkane​ who is a genius for picking this combo! It’s a prompt about LOVE LETTERS! Omg! And thus, it matches perfectly with Richard (trust me, I had NOT made that connection when I made the prompt list :P). Thank you so much for requesting, Clarke, and I hope you enjoy it. I’m excited about this one!

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Oh, I really quite like this one. Hope it makes you feel as soft as I did for Richard while writing it! Also- it’s my first bash at writing him, so let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who helped with film details too: those not already tagged in the post- @prurientpuddlejumper​ @witchyavenger​ @veuliee2​ @waatermelon-sugaar​ @pascal-isaac​

Word count: 4.5 k. So not a blurb, then? :P

Rating: Mature, for light steam (not explicit, but 18+ or out, please!)

Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Mild angst (but it ends well), Steamy. Kissing, brief non-explicit mention of erection. Implied coitus (cut scene). Richard works in a “correctional facility”. Small mention of attempted break-in. If I missed any let me know.

Tagging: @anetteaneta​ @isvvc-pvscvl​ @nowritingonthewall​ @supernovafeather​ (ONLY READ IF 18+)

GIF by @nathan-bateman​

“Have you ever received a love letter?” Richard wonders shyly, without looking up from his crossword puzzle, his long eyelashes fanned out as his gaze dances over the monochrome squares.

Meanwhile, your eyes snap up immediately from your magazine, which you are idly leafing through, a breath catching in your chest.

You bristle at the question, and yet Richard seems either entirely oblivious, or entirely determined not to look-up at you. Perhaps both. So, instead of looking, he simply slurps the dregs of his milkshake, and pushes his plate of waffle remnants further toward the far end of the diner booth.

When he finally raises his gaze – a gentle prompt for you to answer him- his eyes are large and shining under the fluorescent lights as he peers at you over his glass, dabbing at his thick moustache with a paper napkin shortly after.

“No, never,” you state sadly, heeding his prompt with a small smile and a shake of your head. Not even a love e-mail.

“I’m surprised,” he flatters with a cautious smile. And, if you’re not mistaken, his eyes light-up with the faintest trace of desire. The barest undercurrent of passion, which is enough to have your heart beating like a drum. You notice it sometimes; this dull heat emanating off of him. It is a spark which never ignites, however - to your endless disappointment; you would fan that flame if only you knew how.

You swallow. He’s surprised? He can’t be that surprised, you think, a stone sinking through your stomach as you dwell too long on the topic of love letters, and meanwhile, Richard’s attention seamlessly diverts back to 3 across.

“You deserve one,” he says, still looking at the page, but a smile animating his wiry moustache. “A letter.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a spiralling sadness catching hold of you. Does he not understand what this is doing to you? This painful reminder? “Can we drop it, Richard?” you say tensely, and when his eyes meet yours again, they are even more soft and cautious than usual, causing you to admonish yourself for the bite in your tone.

“Yes,” he says. “Of course,” he smiles thinly, apologetically.

It’s simply the new job, you think. Director of Communications. The man has letters on the brain. Richard is so considerate, that you realise he must not intend to hurt you in dredging up the past; he would never. In a way though, you think, it’s even worse that he brings it up so… casually. You can only conclude he has forgotten that you sent your letter to him at all. Had your heartfelt words, declaring your love, had so little impact on him?

Maybe that’s it. After all, they seemed to have so little impact upon him at the time. What could you expect years later? On the other hand, you -apparently- remain rather sore about the topic, all this time later. It’s natural to be sensitive though, isn’t it? You’d written him a love letter and he didn’t write you back. He didn’t say it back. Didn’t feel it back.

And, perhaps it still stings so much, even all these years later, because you never did stop loving him, even if he never started loving you.

Feeling a sudden, overwhelming haste to leave, you thumb through the pages of your magazine so furiously that the next table turn their heads to look at you, until you find what you were searching for.

“Here, Richard. The article I mentioned. Dramatherapy for people who are incarcerated.”

You fold the magazine back on itself, fobbing it off on him with an unprecedented urgency, hurriedly signalling to the waitress that you’d like the check. The roomy diner booth suddenly feels suffocating, and you want to get out. Meanwhile, oblivious, Richard chuckles at the title of the article -some kind of pun, you recall- as you try to push down the unpleasant emotions surfacing within you.

“Thank you for this,” he smiles, looking up at you earnestly. Looking concerned as he reads the expression on your face. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes fix on the table, where his fingertips inch hesitantly across the surface, hovering moments from yours as he debates whether to extend comfort. You make the decision for him, snatching your hand back from his reach.

“Yes. I’m Fine,” you say, unconvincingly. “Can we please go? I need some fresh air.”

“Alright,” Richard agrees gently. He looks a little flustered, but, now sensing your urgency, he begins to sweep up his papers and to shrug on his jacket. He pulls out a small comb to fix his neat curls in place, and offers you a soft smile. “Maybe we can go to the park next?” he suggests.  

As much as you want to run, you nod, some of your agitation dissipating now that the prior topic seems to be forgotten. “Okay. Yeah. That would be nice.” You school your expression into something calm, and you offer him a reassuring smile as his soulful eyes dance over you, a lingering but unobtrusive concern there.

As you split the check, you tell yourself for the millionth time that being his friend is enough; but even after the millionth time, you can’t quite believe it.

Still, today -Sunday- is your one day with him this week. And, no matter what you can’t have; you’ll take anything you can get.

He’s too dear to you to settle for anything less.

************

One month later:

You crouch in amongst the boxes on Richard’s front lawn. He is having a clear-out, setting out some items for goodwill, and some for a neighbourhood yard sale happening next weekend.

You are having fun assisting him in sifting through various items, occasionally bursting into a fit of laughter when he reveals yet another ill-informed, late night shopping channel “bargain” – usually some new-fangled, scarcely-used exercise contraption, which he proceeds to demonstrate in good-humour, making you fold over clutching your stomach in mirth. Occasionally, as you rifle through the boxes, you’ll be overcome by a pang of sentimentality when he uncovers an item with a memory attached; and -no matter how useless- he usually sneaks said item into his ever-growing “to-keep” pile.

“But this is the picnic hamper we took to Bound Beach Island! For your birthday, remember?”  

“Yeah, Richard, but it’s battered! It has holes! It needs to go.”

“It was a beautiful day. The light and the dunes were beautiful… and… and y-“

“-Oh my goodness, what is this?! Please for the love of God tell me you never actually wore this!”

You work through the midday sun until you come to a tired, dead halt on the grass, finally parking your ass down and wiping your brow. Richard looks warm too, a “v” of sweat soaking his old, oversized “Save the Turtles” t-shirt. No - he really doesn’t throw anything away. You smile fondly, though, remembering his sea turtle phase. Of course, he’d read some article. He always was looking for a cause.

“I’ll make us some iced tea,” Richard announces with a tired puff of breath, looking more spent than he probably wants to admit after shuttling the various boxes. Still, the way his grizzled curls have fallen away from his harsh side-part appeals to you, sitting disobedient and undone on his forehead.

Thinking of him undone, you hear a faint beating of drums sound in your chest.

You ignore the music though, like always, instead smiling gratefully as he heads inside, and you take a second to collect yourself before dragging the nearest box towards you, deciding you may as well continue. This next box is taped securely shut, and you chuckle quietly to yourself when you notice it’s labelled “workout-gear”.

You peel the packing tape away and open it up, scooping out the pile of miscellaneous papers sitting right on top. Beginning to leaf through, you surmise it’s mainly unopened junk mail; mainly garishly printed promotional flyers - from a pizzeria which closed down years ago, you recognise. Probably hastily stuffed in before his last move and never dealt with. Absent-mindedly, you begin to bundle it up for the recycling pile, when a smaller, more humble envelope drops out on to your lap, a hand-scrawled address on the front. The stationary is resoundingly familiar.

In fact, everything about it is familiar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as it immediately dawns on you.

It’s your letter.

The letter you sent him, all those years ago. You’d needed to be apart from him- needed to go away to take care of family, and you simply couldn’t go without letting him know. Letting him know you were in love with him.

The memory is like a slow knife sinking into your chest as you idly turn it over in your hands.

But… It can’t be…?

It’s… unopened.

All the air leaves you lungs.

No. No. It doesn’t make a shred of sense.

You’d spoken to him right afterward, on the phone. The first time he’d called after you left town he’d almost pleaded with you, giving you an unequivocally clear, and endlessly painful answer that he didn’t want what you wanted. What you’d written about. He’d made it abundantly obvious that he simply wanted to be friends. “I- I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to stay exactly like it is between us – please? Can we still talk every day?”

But if he didn’t read it…?

You heart pounds so hard that you hear blood rushing in your ears.

He doesn’t know.

His words didn’t mean what you…

Oh my god. All this time.  

You shoot abruptly to standing when you see him approach, as if you’ve been caught red-handed, guiltily stuffing the letter into your back pocket before he can ask you what it is, an abundance of thoughts screaming in your head.

He hands you the glass of tea, ice tinkling gently, and you take it from him, the coolness shocking your palms.

Assessing what you’ve been up to in his absence, and noting the carcass of another box, Richard glances down at the pile of papers strewn at your feet. He looks suddenly worried for a moment, as if you might have found an old porn stash or something – and he looks just as suddenly relieved when he sees they are more innocent papers, scooping them up from the grass.

“Richard?” you say, your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and the letter burning a hole in your pocket as he drops the items into the recycling. He hums for you to go on. “Do you... You know when I moved away...?” your voice is strained, and you gulp hard. “Just before, do you remember getting any unusual letters or... weird post from me?”

“Like what kind of thing?” he asks curiously, turning back to you.

“I don’t know exactly,” you lie, nervously. “I have a feeling I sent you something? A sappy goodbye thing?”

You see him mull it over, combing his impressive moustache with his fingers. “I don’t remember, sorry. But apparently I was drowning in junk mail at that apartment. Maybe it got lost, or returned to sender?”

Despite everything, you exhale a small laugh. In a roundabout way, you suppose it had been returned to sender after all. You look at the ground.

“Was it important?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looks at you.

Biding time, you take a sip of your tea while you search for an answer. It’s refreshing.

“It… Uh. It was a long, long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose,” you muse, masking your sadness, and he nods, looking at least half-satisfied with your answer.

Except, it does matter. It matters more than anything. And, with a sudden, overwhelming need to grab on to the past, you track to the “to go” box, rescuing the battered picnic basket from the pile of junk.

“You shouldn’t get rid of this,” you state, your back to Richard, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice falters. You tense as you feel him settle by your side, his hand hovering tentatively at the small of your back but never quite touching. “It was a beautiful day.”

“No,” he insists. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hang on to it.”

His words are like a punch in the gut. You turn your head to your side, where Richard is, your eyes and heart almost overflowing.

Noting your sadness, and connecting it to the picnic basket, he does everything he can to smooth things over, like always. “We can get a new one,” he says, his brown eyes sweet and hopeful and bright.

You love him. You love him still and you can’t help but turn towards him and reach out your arms, dragging him in for a hug.

“No! No, I’m sweaty,” he protests self-consciously, but you don’t care. You just need to hold him, even only for a moment – and, for a moment he stills as you loop around him, never quite clutching you back.

When you pull away though, you could swear that dim spark of passion is present in his eyes again. That spark that never catches, no matter how much or how often or how hard you wish it would. Oh, how you wish.

“Don’t ever change, Richard,” you say sincerely, your voice imbued with fondness. “Okay? You’re a sweet, wonderful man.”

His eyes are immediately soft and bashful again, the colour of his cheeks deepening a little, a crimson undertone blooming under his brown skin.

“Yes. Okay,” he offers, with a nod, his eyes creasing at the corners, and his posture even bolstered by the compliment, you could swear, his chest puffing out proudly.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ignore the unread words in the back of your pocket; but for the life of you, you can’t ignore those drums.

************

One month later:

You bundle the yapping, happy little white dog into your arms, relieved that she’s okay as her little tail happily beats against your arm.

“Are you okay, Lady?” you coo as she nuzzles her snoot into your face, eagerly lapping little kisses on to your cheek. “Thanks goodness, sweet little floof,” you baby-talk as your eyes quickly scan around Richard’s place, setting his spare key down on the kitchen counter.

You’d barrelled across town to get here, after receiving a call about an attempted break-in. His neighbour to the left had your contact details in case of an emergency -it’s not very easy to reach him at work, of course- so here you are. You came to give things a quick checking over, assured that no-one suspicious had continued to loiter. Richard won’t be much longer -his shift has nearly ended, and you’d left him a voicemail so you’re sure he’ll hurry- but you still thought you’d go on ahead of him, especially so that he wouldn’t worry about Lady.

Looking around, thankfully all seems well, and you don’t think anyone made it inside after all. Slowly then, you allow your nerves to calm and your heart to settle, bouncing the little bundle of fur in your arms, and feeding her a treat from the packet on top of the microwave, just in case she’d been stressed out.

Calming, you can’t help but smile as you look around, absorbing all the little details of Richard. You do hang out in his apartment a fair amount, but most often you will meet or sit outdoors, when the weather allows. After all, he loves to feel the sun and fresh air on his face, especially after spending all day cooped-up in windowless rooms. To you though, this Richard-ness is like a breath of fresh air, and you let it all wash over you, drinking in the details of his simple daily routine. The discarded half-plate of frijoles and rice by the sink. The ironing-board piled with identical uniform-issue shirts, pants, and plain white t-shirts. The photos on the fridge door – some of you and him too.

Doing a lap of the living space, you further note the dining-for-one TV table, evidence of his relatively solitary existence, and you can almost see him sitting there. Can almost hear his soft voice relating the far-fetched storylines of his favourite telenovelas. You imagine him chuckling warmly - perhaps shedding a tear sometimes too.

You decide you should pop your head into the bedroom and bathroom to check there too, for good measure, and you set Lady down, the dog trotting along at your heels. Once you’ve done a loop, you sigh, seeking out a fresh task, and you circle back to the sink, scraping his discarded plate and rinsing it, stacking it in the dishrack. Then, you move towards the TV chair, intending simply to sit yourself down and wait for Richard to come home. After all, you’re here now - you may as well say hello; or, maybe you can even prepare him dinner after his long shift, you muse.

As you revisit the small, rickety table, however, your eyes more keenly notice that a bunch of papers are strewn over it, all identical- a series of pastel pink leaves of paper and envelopes.

Letters.

Handwritten, in his familiar scrawl.

Letters addressed to you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, as you wonder what they could be. You don’t want to invade his privacy, of course, but perhaps this is something that’s meant for you? After all, sometimes he leaves you notes when you come over to feed or walk Lady.  

Still, this feels different, and, with a lump in your throat that you don’t quite understand, you pick up one of the leaves at random, skimming the first line, yet feeling only more confused than you did before.  

You see your name at the head of the paper, followed by the words “my dearest love,”, and underneath, some other half-formed paragraphs, scribbled over and crossed out.

No, you shake your head, your stomach flipping over. That can’t be right, you think, even as your fingers scramble for another leaf - for leaf upon leaf, until you piece together what’s going on. Until, with every line you read, fragments of both English and Spanish, you feel as though you are piecing together his heart.

Could it be true? Is this really true?

Your fingers dive for a sheet more developed that the rest, where you see paragraphs of writing, and you devour the words like you are starved of love; for you are, aren’t you? Starved? And yet, you suddenly feel so full. Brimming.

My darling,

There are infinite ways to fall in love. Some are elemental, like a raging fire. A shock of lightning on first sight. Some are slow-burning and constant, the heat of friendship warming your hearth, defrosting your iced fingertips when you come in from the cold.

There are infinite ways to fall in love, and I should know, my heart, as I have experienced every one of them with you.

You can barely read the rest as tears blur your eyes, and your hand comes to clamp over your mouth as realisation sinks through to the pit of you, the page quaking -like a leaf- in your fingers.

You make my heart beat like a drum. When I look at you, I am music, without being played. When you’re with me I am dancing, without movement. If only you would touch my skin, I feel like I would sing. If only you would-

“-Are you safe? Are you alright?” Richard asks from behind you, and you tear your eyes away from the page with a start. You were so absorbed by this swell of beating music that you didn’t hear the scrape of his key in the lock. You didn’t hear his hurried footsteps coming up behind you.  

“Richard,” you suspire, and for once his touch is on you without hesitation, his hands clasped around each of your shoulders, slowly running down your arms, and you nod quickly to reassure him, your mouth opening wordlessly. You’re safe.

His touch is warm through your clothes, and you think he is right- your skin would sing for him too if he touched you. Your love rattles you, like drums beating musically in your chest, pulsing through your body.

Then, Richard clocks your sideward, guilty glance at the pile of letters, and you see his panic instantly surface at the thought of all his unsent and unspoken words laid bare before you. All the pieces of his heart exposed.

At first, he looks apologetic, but then you step forwards a little more, into the circle of his arms. Arms which suddenly fall, unsure, at his sides once again. And, achingly slow, endlessly sure, you lift up you hand and you place it on his chest, over his heart, smoothing over his shirt and over the cool metal of the shield he wears there. You feel his heart really is beating like a drum. His chest is rising and falling beneath your hand, his breath quickened – eyes nervous.

You step a little closer, and your fingers continue their slow crawl, dancing up around his collar, inching further up until your fingers finally brush the bare skin at the nape of his neck, pushing up into the curls behind his ears, your thumb skimming his sideburn. You touch him, with your fingertips, and he does sing for you, a half-choked moan leaving his mouth at your tender caress.

“Richard,” you say breathily, searching his face, eyes openly appraising his beauty. “Don’t worry, sweet man. I love you too.” And, when you next meet his eyes there is no nervousness there. Not any longer. Instead, you find his dark, expressive eyes brewing with adoration, and that gentle but ever ascending note of passion.

“Darling, can I kiss you?” he pleads, his voice dogged by desire, his brow knitting together and his hands slipping bravely to your waist, circling you as you arch into him.

“Yes. Yes,” you say, and his mouth meets yours in a desperate, tumultuous crush. You sing too, your skin thrumming as you finally know the feeling of his thick moustache brushing against you. As you taste the sweet flavour of cherry sucker on his kiss. As you finally feel the texture of his slicked curls beneath your fingertips.

You kiss, urgently, until you are each smiling too broadly to continue, and instead Richard beams and presses sweet, intermittent kisses all over – your cheeks, your forehead, your hair, your neck- his moustache tickling wherever it touches. His hands are everywhere they can be politely, roaming over your back and your arms and your hair, and it feels so good to finally be held like this.

Eventually, he pulls back, his smile no longer tugging at his lips so keenly -lips now kiss flushed with deep colour- but shining in his liquid eyes. “How long have you loved me back?” he asks in a still choked, disbelieving voice.

You bite your lip, but then allow your face to split in a radiant, unrestrained grin.

Always. Always. I loved you first, you think.

You reach for your bag, reluctant to break from him so trailing your love’s hand in yours- and you fish out the letter. The one you’ve carried around since it was returned to you. “Take a look, Richard,” you encourage.

He looks from you to the small envelope, turning it in his spare hand as you pass it to him. “What is this?”

His brows rise in confusion as you tap the stamped postmark with your index finger. Years. Years ago.

“I sent you a letter,” you explain. “Telling you I loved you. That I love you,” you correct, squeezing his hand tightly in yours, amazed at how natural it feels already, to touch him.

He audibly gasps in air, looking pained. Devastated. “I never got it. I would’ve-“, he fumbles for words, but he can’t finish them, the magnitude of all those years lost to yearning too big to wrap his lips around. “I never got it,” he repeats sorrowfully.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that now,” you soothe. “I got your letter.” And, as you engulf him with your arms a soft smile takes over his features once again. He can’t help it.

“I’m so glad you did,” he beams, drawing you to him for another kiss, which you eagerly accept, opening your mouth to him.

God, he’s a good kisser, his tongue in you deep and eager, and the heat generated is quick to catch, a fire lit in the pit of you. That moustache is a divine thing too, his lips soft and full beneath, his mild-mannered tongue positively sinful as it works against yours.

Letting the kiss grow, you grab hold of him by the belt to draw his body closer to yours, arching your hips into his, and you feel an impressive bulge greet you as you do so.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers bashfully, angling his hips away from you, in case you’re not ready for… that yet. “You’re perfection. So perfect, I… I’m a little bit, uh, excited.”

You don’t blame him. You’re a little bit excited too. There’s a drum beating in your chest. Music in your heart. A song everywhere. A dance in your body.

“W-would you like to take me to the bedroom, Richard?” you purr, softly. “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

You wish you could capture the bliss which sparks in his eyes then, and keep stoking it forever more. His whole being glows as if you are the sun shining down on him. He loves the sun on his face. He loves you.

He loves you.

*******

Later that night:

At some point after round three, Richard is ravenous, and so you head to the kitchen to grab some snacks. One of Richard’s plaid shirts wards off the slight chill, settled over your otherwise naked body. As you microwave something quick, you can barely keep the smile from your face – even more so as you glance over at the table full of half-finished letters. As the microwave pings and you grab out the plate, another idea occurs to you, and you simply can’t help yourself.

So, you pad mysteriously back towards the bedroom, where Richard is waiting. The blanket is slung low over his hips, skimming the dark trail of hair which draws your gaze down beyond his abdomen. He is covered, and yet you bloom blissfully with heat at your new-found knowledge of what lays beneath. He’s laying with one hand folded behind his head, and one hand rested on the soft, roundness of his stomach, which you had laid your head on only moments ago.

Richard’s eyes shine with unadulterated admiration as you enter, and you flash him a mischievous smile as you transfer the plate to his hands, and subsequently tip a cascade of his letters into the middle of the bed.

“What’s all this?” he asks, with a contented laugh as you bounce eagerly into bed by his side, humming in equal contentment as you slot yourself under his arm.  

“I want you to read them to me. Will you?” you ask, sweetly, and he looks bashful all over again. “No-one has ever sent me a love letter.”

“Me neither,” he chuckles. “Or I thought so…”

He hesitates, perhaps feeling shy, but he wraps his arm around you securely, nuzzling you into his side as he picks up the closest leaf of paper.

He hums gratefully as you begin to stroke his smooth chest. He really does sing whenever you touch him.

“They’re not finished,” he caveats. “I wanted to find the perfect words and I… I couldn’t.”

“The words don’t have to be perfect. It’s more important that they’re delivered,” you say, your voice soft as you sink into him, and so, he gently clears his throat and he begins to read, his words and his rich, soothing voice filtering over you like warm sunshine.

After a moment listening, and letting his love and his letters envelop you, you interrupt him gently. “My sweet man. Promise me you’ll never write me another love letter?”

“Are they that awful?!” Richard exclaims.

“No!” you laugh, into his chest, tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just… I think I hate love letters, Richard. They’ve only ever kept me from you.”

His expression becomes wistful, lost in thought until a smile finally captures him. Then, with a finger curling gently under your chin, he dips down to plant a small kiss to the very tip of your nose.

“No more letters then,” he promises softly. “Let’s always promise to say it out loud from now on. Let’s talk every day.”

You heart full, you bring your hand up to caress his cheek, before planting a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips; and, despite what you’d just suggested, you plead for him to keep reading to you, his voice and his love lulling you to sleep in his arms.

With the love letters as kindling, your dim spark finally catches, your fire now blazing. You set it in a hearth in your chest, and you vow to keep it stoked for always.

THE END

Bonus:

[definitelynotsuzumi]

Zapped to Another World [Chapter 3]

[Masterlist]

Chapter 3 is finally up! T-T I am really sorry for the delays and future delays since I am juggling between school and Genshin. 

Despite the roof over your head and the cushy bed beneath you, you could not sleep.

You heaved a sigh as you reached your hand into your chest, detaching your Gnosis. If your knowledge was right, you were basically the 8th Archon. A phantom one, judging by Venti’s reaction.

“Oh good, you have not lost it yet.” A familiar voice echoed. You nearly rolled off the bed in surprise as you turned to face Artem.

“How? But I? Huh? What are you doing here?” You stuttered.

“Oh silly head. Or maybe I am the silly one for not letting you know. A Gnosis is a way that Archons can communicate with the Celestia. In other words, me!” Artem threw you a mischievous smile. He seemed a lot more easy-going. Was it because I agreed to this life? Or is it because his sister isn’t here?

You suspected both as Artem kicked back in the air.

“I am aware of that but…Doesn’t this make me…Irrelevant in this world? Weren’t there supposed to be just 7 Archons?” You knitted your brows as he casually floated around the giant room.

“Well, originally, yes. But things change!”

“So, what exactly am I an Archon of?” You looked back onto your Gnosis. As you had agreed to the “contract” when you fell, the Gnosis had transformed into what looked like a chess piece, with a sphere adorning the top of it.

“This world! Isn’t that exciting?”

Figures. The shape atop your Gnosis was shaped like a planet after all.

“…Honestly, not with the Fatui out to get people like me.” You sighed.

“Oh, if they try anything funny with the Order I have made, rest assured, us gods will deal with it.” Artem’s easy-going aura turned bloodthirsty.

You held your tongue instinctively as Artem laughed humourlessly.

“I am well aware of the Tsaritsa straying from her path and interfering. But I have faith in that Outworlder.” Artem hummed as he messed around in your room. He somehow managed to find lipstick paper in the drawers and had put it on. 

“And me. Surely there is more to my existence in this world. Am I right in saying that?” You grasped your Gnosis tightly in your hand.

“Well yes, you are the failsafe I have created. It was pure chance that I lost that game and my temper ehe~” He blew you a kiss with his extremely pigmented lips. 

You were tempted to shout. A pure chance that I got killed by that lightning volt, you mean!

“Aren’t you glad that it worked out?,” Artem closed the gap between the two of you, his eyes staring into yours. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, as if he could hear your thoughts.

“I am glad for this second chance in life. But it is honestly concerning for someone like me…” You gulped back your fear of the god.

“Understandable. By the way, try to keep your existence as an Archon as downlow as possible. While the Archons may be aware of another one, they will not be able to pinpoint who it is exactly until they meet you. If they got rid of the failsafe, I will be forced to get someone to step in.” 

“…Do you mean the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles?” Artem blinked in surprise.

“Wow, I’m surprised a human from Earth knows about her.  Yes, yes you are right. Clever girl.”

You felt the cold claws of dread grip your heart.

“Communication is a 2-way street. If they can observe and interact with the Celestia, they can interfere with it. That means, if they tried hard enough, they can very well overthrow the gods of the Celestia.” Artem turned serious.

“That is why you exist now. The original plan was to summon a hero from Elysium as a failsafe but seeing as to how things turn out, well, here we are.”

“You talk as if it is my fault that we are here now…” You frowned, “You raged during a game of Uno. Uno, of all games! And caused a whole lightning to zap me into the afterlife. Not to mention, the guilt trip that you pulled just to bring me here.”

Artem rolled his eyes, as if you were snapping over a trivial issue.

“Now you just sound like Solaria. Blegh.” Artem faked a retch before returning to his serious expression.

“Sorry if I made it sound bad that you are here. I mean no ill-intentions. You didn’t deserve to die because of my temper.” Artem patted your head, exhaling heavily through his nose.

You heard footsteps come by your door. Artem gave you a wink as he disappeared into a burst of golden sparks. You hurriedly stored your gnosis to your chest again.

“Miss (L/N), I apologize for the disturbance. Master Diluc has instructed me to provide you with clothing.” A maid came by, a set of clothes and shoes in her hands.

“How kind. Leave them by the dresser. And send him my…thanks.” You watched as the maid bowed her head, putting them down on the oak dresser before scurrying out of your room.

Rising and feeling the silken fabric of a simple red frock, black shirt and a matching cape, you exhaled through your nose. You knew that you were caught up in something complicated and the feeling of helplessness came back to you.

Artem’s voice then echoed in your ears.

‘Find the Outworlder and see to it that he saves this world. If not, well…’ A vision of Mondstadt in flames with the familiar black-red cubes flashed in your eyes.

‘Let’s just say, the option of going into Elysium will be open.’

You did not know when you had drifted off to sleep, but you were glad for those few hours of rest. You slipped out of your day-old school uniform and donned the fresh clothes Diluc had given. They felt light and soft, perfect for traveling under the sun. Given how the sun was blazing through the morning dew, you decided against the cape and slipped it into your bag as well.

Preparing your things, you were not a fan of how the bag of mora you had received from Solaria was getting lighter. Maybe I should become an Adventurer as well…

Walking down the wooden stairs of the Winery, you were surprised to see a huge spread of food on the table, with Diluc leisurely eating his way through a pile of steaks, potatoes and cheese.

“Have some, the people of Mondstadt call this Pile Em Up.” Diluc pushed over a steaming plate. You swore you saw it sparkle in the candlelight.

You tentatively sliced a piece. Meat and cheese at this time of the day seemed a little rich, but as the warm ribs melted in your mouth, you could not hold back a satisfied sigh.

“Your maids are excellent cooks.”

“…I cooked it.”

“…Really?”

“Do you not believe that I can cook?”

Diluc gave you a bemused smile. You looked back down onto your steak. You mentally yelled at yourself to quit blushing.

“I-well, you don’t seem the type to cook so…I just thought…”You stumbled over your words. You could feel his eyes on you. You noticed a small, genuine smile forming on his lips. You have landed on one of the topics he admits pride in.

“Well, I do work as a bartender in the tavern at times, naturally I will need to be able to cook.”

A soft warmth formed in your chest as you smiled back. Finishing off the delicious plate of the juicy meat, you blinked in surprise as he offered you a pack of dried sunsettias and apples.

“The journey will be long. Please be safe on your travels.”

Huh. You always had the impression that he was cold and aloof, but Diluc seemed different than what you have seen in the game.

“Uhm, thank you for everything you have done. I will pay it back some day!” You bowed before turning towards the path leading out of Dawn Winery.  

“Uh…Uhmm….” You murmured in growing panic. Solaria had forgotten to pack a map! You were incredibly lost. A boy with white hair bolted past as you heard the sound of gibberish following behind him. You had a bad feeling about this.

“…Uh oh.”

You looked back. A group of very angry Hilichurls were running towards you and the boy.

“UH OH!”

You sprinted in the direction of the boy but you soon found yourself face-to-face with a cliff. The boy was nowhere to be seen.

You had to fight.

You turned around, grabbing an arrow that flew past your face. Everything seemed slower than you thought it would be.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed your arms in front of you. Your eyes shut themselves tightly as you willed for the area around you to freeze over. The screams of the Hilichurls stopped as you felt the icy winds against your cheek.

Cautiously, you opened your eyes to see them frozen solid. You walked up, tapping the ice with your knuckles.

It was as if they were made out of ice rather than being flash-frozen.

Whatever had happened, you were certain that you would be safe. Looking around, you noticed a blob of white hair in the bush near you.

“You alright there?” You called out. The boy poked his head out of the bush.

“A…Are they gone -AH!” The boy jumped as he saw the Hilichurls’ angry expressions before realizing that they are frozen solid.

“It should be safe and anyways, what is the use of a sword if you don’t use it to defend yourself?” You sighed, noticing a sword strapped to his side.

“They kind of caught me off-guard…” His expression of guilt made you feel bad as you awkwardly patted his head.

He reminded you of a little brother.

“What’s your name?” You asked as you took in the familiar garb he was wearing.

“I’m Bennett! I had a commission to retrieve treasure from the Hilichurls but…well…”He stole a glance at the Hilichurls, who remained frozen solid in their spots.

“I’m (Y/N) but I got lost…I forgot to pack in a map…” You sighed, scratching the back of your head awkwardly.

“Oh! I can help with that!”

Bennet fished out a crumpled piece of paper. It was a map! You were saved!

But just as you were about to thank Artem for his kindness, an arrow ripped through the middle.

The Hilichurls you froze over must have melted as you heard their angered screaming.

“Oh for f-“

Bennett drew his sword. You were familiar with his skill in the game as you saw him charging energy into his sword. Raising your hand, you willed for your power to protect him as he swung his sword. Flames rose as he struck down the Shield Hilichurl.

“Huh?” Bennett was confused when he realized he was not sent flying.

“Focus, Bennett, focus!” You yelled as you blasted the Hilichurls away from him. As much as you hated how his unluckiness seemed contagious, you did not want him to be hurt.

“Thanks!” Bennett beamed at you as he slashed down the Hilichurls. That seemed to be last of them as you finished off the Shield Hilichurl.

“Wow, thanks for saving me back there. Seriously, I owe you one.” Bennett made his gratitude known, thanking you profusely.  You sighed as you sat down on the grass.

Bennett took out the torn map and looked extremely sheepish.

“Don’t suppose you have an extra one?” You sighed again. Bennett shook his head in response.

“Hey, are you two okay? I just saw the bodies of the Hilichurls and I came by to investigate- Oh hey Bennett!” A girl’s voice greeted you both.

“Hey Amber! Yeah, I kinda got into a fight with them but she saved me!” Bennett excitedly introduced you to the Outrider.

“She’s uh…What’s your name again?”

“I’m (Y/N) and I’m trying to get to Liyue but I got lost. Bennett was showing me his map until they ripped it. Don’t suppose you have an extra in your pockets?” You wiped off the sweat as you stood up to greet Amber.

“Oh! I can help with that!” Amber gave you a neatly folded piece of paper.

“Please take care on your travels then. There is a rise in Hilichurl sightings in the area.” Amber saluted.

“Don’t suppose you’d like to join Bennett’s Adventure Team?” Bennett gave you a puppy-eyed dog look.

“Uhm…Well, I really need to make my way to Liyue…Unless you’d want to come with me and abandon everything you have here…”Bennett’s face fell. You instantly felt bad for the poor adventurer. You knew it was a tall order for you to ask him to come along. 

“Hey hey…I’ll be back soon. We can do more adventuring once I fulfil my mission, okay?” You smiled at Bennett, who brightened at your promise.

‘If I am still alive, afterwards,’ A dark thought flashed through your head.

Waving good bye to the two, you continued on your path, leaving Mondstadt behind.

Meanwhile

Diluc’s servant gulped as he approached a small cottage in the bamboo forest. Knocking the wooden door, he cleared his throat.

“Diluc sends his regards.” The door immediately opened to reveal a girl with dark brown hair.

“Oho! Finally! He calls! Did he happen to include an engagement ring by any chance?”

“U-Uh no, just this letter-“

“Oh how boring.” The door slammed shut.

“He includes payment with this letter.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” The door swung open again. The girl swiped off the bag of mora the servant had prepared and wax-sealed letter smoothly.

Ripping the letter open, the girl scanned its contents carefully.

“As straightforward as always. Thanks for your hard work, I guess.” Waving off the servant casually, the girl smiled to herself.

“A recon mission for a stranger in red and black, huh? Well, well, well. Time to dust off the old umbrella.”

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

So I am going through my WIPs and I haven’t posted this one either.

Idiots....

Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: angst. That’s pretty much it! They wasted so much time being IDIOTS!

Word Count: 1758

You stood at the entrance to the cave watching the sun rising over the tall trees on the planet Ajan Kloss. The Resistance had been here for a few weeks now and it seemed a decent hiding place from the First Order, for now anyway. You gripped the cup of caf in your hands as the first rays of the day shone into the cave, the sky was tinged with a light golden hue as the small clouds hung lazily in the atmosphere, today was going to be another hot day which you didn’t mind. You cocked your head at the sound of a ship and you recognised it instantly, the Falcon was back which meant he was back. The sound of the ion engines powering down filled you with dread as you pictured Poe Dameron in your mind, his dark messy curls and his smouldering brown eyes making your heart heavy. Poe was the love of your life but this war had ripped you apart, with him risking his life everyday you couldn’t take it anymore, the worry of him not returning pushed you to a breaking point. You had rowed it was your biggest row and the entire base had heard, not that you cared. With a sigh you downed the last of the caf and your feet dragged as you headed to the conference room, you still had a job to do.

You concentrated on Finn as he briefed everyone on the mission and Poe stood to the side, his arms crossed as he let his friend do the talking. Since the evacuation of D’Qar and the Battle of Crait Poe had changed and you could finally see the leader that Leia wanted him to be coming out in him and it made your heart ache all the more. You were proud of him and maybe you breaking off your relationship had been what he needed to really focus on his duty. As you listened you couldn’t help your gaze slowly drifting to Poe, his arms crossed over his broad chest, the necklace with his mother’s ring hanging from it resting on top of his shirt and you felt another pang knowing now that ring would go to someone else. You let out a small sigh and you saw Snap look at you quickly a frown on his face and you quickly schooled your expression. You flinched slightly as Poe addressed the group in his Commander voice but you couldn’t concentrate on what was being said as his voice rolled over you and you tried to fight the rising well of sadness inside you. The briefing ended and you felt someone grab your arm dragging you out of there.

‘Snap…?’

‘You need to stop.’ You pulled your arm free and let some people walk past before fixing your gaze onto him.

‘Stop? Stop what?’ You hissed.

‘You let him go, stop being all doey eyed over him.’

‘I’m not having this conversation…’ you went to walk round him but he spun you back to face him.

‘This isn’t healthy.’

‘What do you want me to do? I can’t just turn off my feelings, they don’t just wink out existence! I can’t calibrate them to be stable! I…..’ you stopped as more people walked past you and you knew Poe would be coming out next and you didn’t want to be here when he did. ‘Just leave me alone Snap.’ This time he didn’t stop you and you walked faster as you heard Poe greet his friend, you didn’t stop until you made it back to your room locking yourself in the refresher you finally allowed yourself to feel. You sat heavily on the floor as the sobs took over your body and you brought your knees up resting your forehead on them. Maybe if you curled yourself up enough you could hold yourself together, that worked right? You rubbed your wet face on your trousers as you rocked slightly feeling the permanent crack in your heart hurt more now than when it happened. You hated yourself sometimes, how you couldn’t just let him do what he did for the Resistance, you had to love him so much that it drove you insane when he didn’t check in or he didn’t return on time. You hated that you loved him too much. You heard a noise and looked up sharply, wiping your eyes hurriedly to try and disguise the fact you were crying.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s me.’ You closed your eyes as a fresh wave of sadness threatened to engulf you just at the sound of his voice. He said your name and you could tell he was sitting just the other side of the door.

‘Do you need me for something?’ You winced at the waver in your voice hoping he didn’t hear it as silent tears now spilled down your face.

‘No.’ You waited for him to say more but he didn’t and you shuffled closer to the door imagining him sitting resting his head and back against the door, his leg cocked and his arm resting on his knee with his eyes closed. You leaned against the door wishing you were really snuggled against him and another silent sob beat your chest as you put a hand over your mouth. ‘You ok in there?’ You could tell by his voice he had heard you crying and you wondered why he had come to find you, neither of you had really spoken after your row a few weeks ago and you had told yourself it was better that way. A clean break and all.

‘Yeah,’ you heard him shift against the door probably matching your position now and you placed a hand up resting it on the cool surface.

‘Will you talk to me?’

‘Poe…’

‘Please, you didn’t really let me have a say when….when you broke it off.’ The strain in his voice tugged at your heart and you found yourself reaching up to unlock the door. At first nothing happened but slowly the door slid open to reveal Poe’s tear stained face. Seeing him like that broke something inside you and you covered your face with your hands as fresh sobs took over. His hands were on you in an instant, his voice breaking as he whispered in your ear, you clutched onto his shirt as his familiar comforting scent washed over you. Your lips collided desperately as you looked for comfort in the only person who could provide it for you. He kissed you just as passionately, his hands pulling you to his body as he craved to feel all of you at once. He mumbled your name against your mouth as he scrunched his face up trying to curb the new tide of tears that threatened to wash over him. Your mind tumbled with all the things you wanted to say; I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I want you back, I’m sorry, don’t leave me, I love you…. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say them, you couldn't get past the obstruction in your throat, Poe stole the very air from your lungs as he lavished his full attention on your lips and body. You could feel yourself responding, you never stopped loving him, you never stopped wanting him, never stopped needing him. His hands held you with such care like he was worried you were going to break as he cupped your face gently wiping the fresh tears off your face.

‘I can’t do this anymore…’ he whispered his warm breath fanning over your face as he pulled away slightly. ‘I can’t bear the thought of you finding someone else, I can’t live like this…live without you.’ His voice cracked again and you caught the tear that slid down his cheek. You tried to think of something to say, you tried to speak to reassure him but you still couldn’t get the words out and you felt your heart shatter as the light faded in his eyes as he realised you couldn’t say these things back to him. You felt cold as his hands left your face, he sat back on his heels and he nodded as if telling himself this was for the best.

‘Poe…’

‘No it’s ok. You made it perfectly clear how you felt a few weeks ago.’ You didn’t miss the bitter tone in his voice as he went to get off the floor but you grabbed his arm finally finding the strength to speak.

‘I love you.’ He gave you a watery smile but he didn’t make a move towards you.

‘I know,’ he sighed and rubbed his face, the sound of his stubble against his calloused hand sounded loud in the small space.

‘I’m sorry oh god Poe I’m so sorry!’ He watched you for a second but unable to leave you crying he pulled you back to his chest. He waited for you to calm down before speaking again, your face was pressed against his chest as he gently stroked your hair.

‘I’ve struggled these past few weeks,’ you tensed your arms around him in a reassuring squeeze. ‘Not having you to come back to has been the hardest.’ He moved you slightly, his hand tilting your chin so you were forced to look into his tear filled eyes. ‘I know I’m reckless and I know I will do whatever it takes for the Resistance but….I always thought of you and if I didn’t think I could make it I wouldn’t do it.’

‘You did?’ He nodded as he gazed adoringly at you.

‘But you didn’t let me say that,’ he whispered. ‘You went off and thought you knew it all as per.’

‘So…’

‘So it means we wasted at least three weeks being sad and angry at each other just because we love each other.’

‘So we‘re idiots?’ You asked and he smiled at you before kissing you gently.

‘Well, you’re clearly the bigger idiot than me...ow!’ He recoiled as you pinched him but you couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across your face and he captured your lips in another kiss.

‘So what happens now flyboy?’ You bit your lip as he grinned back at you, a dark look clouding his eyes a look he only ever gave you.

‘We make up for lost time.’ He slammed the door shut and you hoped no one would come looking for you anytime soon because he was going to keep you busy for a few hours at least.

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #22

Orion Amari x MC

Warning: very small mention of alcohol, blink and you'll miss it

A/N: Another very long one but... you'll see why :D thank you to @kc-needs-coffee and @carewyncromwell for looking over and getting my thoughts straight, love you loads <3

Word Count: ~ 4.900

_____________________________________________________________

Chapter 22: Moonglow

The sounds of music and laughter were immediately muffled as the heavy round oak door shut behind her; by the time Lizzie had reached the end of the tunnel, the sound of the party going in the Common Room was barely audible anymore.

She stepped into the dimly lit stone corridor and shivered; the damp air in the dungeons was always more on the cold side, but coming out of the heat of the Common Room, Lizzie’s arms were covered in goosebumps in no time; she wished she had taken the time to put a jacket over the old team jersey she was wearing.

Looking left and right to see in which direction Orion had been going, she could just see him rounding the corner of the path that led up to the Great Hall. She set after him at a light jog, partly to catch up with him but also to drive the cold out of her body.

As Orion heard her footsteps behind him, he turned around; a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he realised who had followed him from the bustling party. By the time Lizzie reached him, he was leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs with his arms crossed in front of him.

“Tired of the party already?” he asked after Lizzie came to a halt. He flashed her that crooked smile of his that made it that much harder for her to return to a more steady breathing rhythm.

“Same as you apparently.” Lizzie took a deep breath that forced her heartbeat to return to a more normal pace. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t care much for huge parties with so many people,” he admitted. “I find the attention we get after a successful match often gets too intense. And besides,” he chuckled silently, “McNully was too preoccupied tonight to be good company.”

The image of Murphy’s hands buried in a mane of red locks flashed through Lizzie’s mind. She had to chuckle as well.

“Yeah, his attention may be elsewhere tonight,” she giggled. “So what are you going to do now?”

“The castle is very quiet at night; it’s easier to let your thoughts flow freely in the dark,” he answered. “I’m going to seek respite from the crowd at my favourite place.”

Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “The Quidditch pitch?”

“Second favourite place,” Orion conceded.

He pushed himself off the wall and started climbing the stairs that would take him to the ground level. After a few steps he turned around to her. “Are you coming or not?”

Lizzie felt her lips curl into a smile as she nimbly hopped up the steps as well. It was foolish and reckless, but the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline coursing through her body made her ignore the warnings in her mind for good.

Orion quickly checked to see if no one was around before they crossed the still brightly lit ante room to the Great Hall and continued up the grand staircase that would lead them to the various wings and towers of the castle.

After they had left the Entrance Hall behind, it had grown considerably darker; almost all torches had already been extinguished for the night. Luckily, the light of the moon shining through the windows was bright enough for them to not have any need of their wands.

Neither of them spoke as they wandered past countless statues and paintings, dipping in and out of the silver light illuminating their path. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence; both of them were enjoying the other’s company without the need for any words.

The castle looked completely different at night and Lizzie soon lost her sense of direction; she had snuck out after curfew a few times before, mainly when Tonks and Tulip had needed a third pair of hands, but she had never roamed the nightly hallways just for fun.

Orion, on the other hand, seemed perfectly comfortable in the dark; it made her wonder just how often he had sneaked out of bed to explore the school before.

They had entered one of the main corridors again and were waiting for an enchanted staircase to swing their way. After it had arrived, Lizzie set her foot on the lowest step, when Orion’s outstretched arm suddenly blocked her way.

She could immediately see why; a swinging light had appeared at the other side of the landing and was approaching them at an alarming pace.

“Who goes there?” the raspy voice of Argus Filch cut through the darkness. His voice turned triumphant as he could make out their silhouettes in the light of his lantern.

“Ha, Mrs. Norris, now we got them for good!” He drew a deep breath before he yelled, “Hey you, stop! You’re out after curfew, I’ll hang you from the ceiling for this!”

He started towards them as the light in his hand swung back and forth erratically.

“Run!” Orion grabbed Lizzie’s hand as he darted back into the shadows of the corridor they had come from, pulling her behind him. She needed a moment to fall into step with him; she was a lot smaller than Orion and had to take two strides for every one he took.

Lizzie had no idea where they were going; she was just dashing after Orion through hallways, side doors and up several flights of steps. It surprised her how well he knew all the shortcuts and secret passages traversing the castle. They had shaken Filch off quite some time ago, but they only slowed down when they reached the foot of an iron cast spiral staircase.

Her heart hammering against her rib cage, Lizzie collapsed onto the lowest step, gasping for air. Her head had cleared and her already tired legs hurt, her sides burning with stitches from running at full speed.

She looked at Orion, who stood next to her, his forearms resting on the railing as he was trying to catch his breath as well. Their eyes locked for a moment and the rush of adrenaline had them burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

It was only now that Lizzie took in her surroundings; she tilted her head back and watched the staircase ascend into the darkness above, only parts of it illuminated by the moonlight seeping in from the openings in the round walls. She finally knew where Orion had taken her.

“The Astronomy Tower, huh?” she muttered.

Orion inclined his head. “Where better to be one with the universe than directly under the starry sky?” he smiled. “Come on.”

He offered her his hand to pull her up again; Lizzie felt her heartbeat picking up again as he interlaced his fingers with hers while they were climbing the steps leading to the top. She didn’t care if what she was doing was wrong; in this very moment, her hand resting in his felt completely right.

Lizzie could feel her heart beat in time with the sound of their feet of the metal steps. She was walking slightly behind Orion; the tips of his black hair were curled ever so slightly as it had dried in the warm air of the Common Room deep down below them. She watched how it gently swayed with his steps when they passed through one of the moonlit patches; she would have only needed to extend her hand to touch it.

The big, half open room at the top of the tower seemed vast to her as they reached the top. Lizzie had never been up here outside of Astronomy class, where the room was crowded with students and their unwieldy telescopes.

She let go of Orion’s hand as she wandered through the opening in the roof and onto the parapet running around the perimeter of the Astronomy Tower. Professor Sinistra always took great care that no student got too close to the edge, so Lizzie now took the chance to step to the end of the platform. Running her hands along the cold surface of the broad wooden railing, she tilted her head back and took in the dazzling night sky.

The moon was still low enough to not eclipse the myriad of twinkling stars above her; in the cold, clear air of the night, they seemed so close as if she only had to extend her hand to reach them.

“So this is your favourite place in the castle?” she asked as Orion leaned onto the railing beside her, his eyes trailing the firmament as well.

“It is the most peaceful place I know.”

Lizzie could see why; standing at the highest point of the ancient building beneath them, with no one but Orion by her side, the place seemed almost enchanted. She didn’t dare raise her voice to more than a whisper, as if any loud noise might break the spell and wake her up.

A breeze drifted up towards them. It caught in her hair and Lizzie shivered from the cold; she let go of the railing and wrapped her arms around herself. Without a word, Orion shrugged out of his coat and draped it around her shoulders.

Lizzie’s tense muscles immediately relaxed under the fabric still warm from his body heat. He was only wearing a white shirt underneath it himself. Not wanting him to be cold either, Lizzie pulled his coat off her back again.

“It’s alright,” he smiled as she offered it back to him. “I don’t get cold that quickly.”

Relieved she didn’t have to give up her newfound source of warmth, Lizzie slipped it on again. She had to roll up the sleeves several times until they didn’t fall over her hands anymore. As she snuggled deeper into it, her head started spinning at the lovely scent of the heavy fabric, fresh, spicy and woody at the same time. Lizzie recognised it immediately; she had caught it on another of her team members last; it was the missing component of her Amortentia.

“Why does your coat smell like Everett?” she mumbled confused.

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Why would you know how Everett smells?”

Lizzie blushed as she realised how that must have sounded. “Back at the last post-match party,” she explained hurriedly, “I noticed when he got a little bit too close for my liking; he only got hold of me because I got distracted by that scent.”

Orion still looked puzzled. “And why would this particular scent distract you so much?”

“Because I can’t figure out why I know it so well,” she sighed. “I’ve smelled it so many times and but I don’t know where. Only that it has something to do with Quidditch.”

“And what do Everett and my coat smell like?” Lizzie could hear the laughter ringing in his voice at the absurdity of his question.

She turned her head so the collar of the coat came closer to her face and inhaled deeply. “It’s warm,” Lizzie closed her eyes to better concentrate on it, “but fresh at the same time; kind of spicy as well.”

“That would be ginger, cilantro and patchouli, if I’m not mistaken.” Lizzie’s eyes snapped open and she blinked incredulously at the widely grinning Orion next to her. Now that he had named the components she could distinguish them clearly; why hadn’t she thought of that before?

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you know?”

His grin turned into a beautiful, warm laugh. “That happens to be what my shower gel smells like.”

Lizzie’s confusion only grew as the heat rose to her face. “But why did Everett smell like your shower gel?”

Orion shrugged. “We share. There’s mostly only one bottle of shower gel around in our dorm, and somehow, it’s always mine.”

Lizzie cocked her head to the side at the notion of so many people sharing something as personal as a scent. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she declared with a giggle. “But why doesn’t Murphy use it then? I’ve never noticed it on him.”

“Murphy got gifted his very own personalised bottle of shower gel and he guards it like a treasure,” Orion chuckled.

She could just imagine who that gift had been from. But even after Orion’s explanation, something was not quite adding up. The way Everett had smelled had merely reminded her of the fragrance of the love potion; something had been missing.

“What’s that other scent then,” she asked more to herself. “It reminds me of a fire going out.”

“Like burning wood?”

Lizzie snapped out of her musings. “Yes.”

“I burn incense while meditating; it helps clearing the mind. No wonder my coat smells like it.” There it was again, that intriguingly crooked smirk playing around his lips as he watched her from the side while resting his forearms on the railing.

Not wanting to stare, Lizzie looked out over the peaceful grounds. Ginger, patchouli, cilantro and incense; just like her Amortentia. A wry smile formed on her lips as she shook her head the tiniest bit.

Out of all people, why did it have to be him?

“Do you know why I like to come here?” he asked suddenly.

She tipped her head back and watched the glittering night sky. “You like stargazing?” she chuckled, her joke a weak attempt to take her mind off the way her chest tightened as she felt Orion’s eyes on her.

“Exactly,” he answered in complete seriousness, however. “The stars have a way of showing you a way to your true self, if you know how to read them.”

Lizzie tore her gaze away from the sky. “You’re talking about Astrology.”

Orion nodded in confirmation. “Exactly; it’s the reason I was interested in Divination in the first place. I don’t know much about my past, but the stars taught me more about myself than I would ever have thought possible.”

She laughed lightly as she remembered her own stupid reason for choosing Divination. The night breeze blowing around the top of the tower carried the sound away from her lips and out over the grounds.

“That’s a lot more plausible than what I did.” Orion’s intrigued silence prompting her to go on, she blushed at how flippant she sounded. “I lost a bet with Tonks about who would jump out of the way of a Fanged Frisbee first.”

He laughed along with her, the sound of his voice deep where hers was clear. “You don’t believe in Astrology then?”

She shook her head. “Not really; I know the movement of the planets affect certain magical traits and abilities, but I don’t believe in foresight and omens and all these things.”

Lizzie half-feared to have enticed him into a discussion about the universe and fate, but the corner of his mouth simply quirked up as his eyes dropped to where the neckline of her jersey showed the yellow topaz resting against her skin.

“Why did you never take your necklace off then?”

Her hand went to her throat automatically and covered the pendant. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “I got used to the feel of it, I guess. It comforts me to know it’s there.”

Orion inclined his head. “That’s what birthstones are supposed to do.”

He had started twirling the pendant of his own necklace; Lizzie had rarely seen him without it except when they were playing in House matches. She had never asked why it was so special to him. She reached over to him, gently taking the round stone out of his hands and turned it around between her fingers.

“Is that your birthstone as well?”

To her surprise, he shook his head. “Not mine,” he answered quietly, his voice suddenly tinged with melancholy. “It was my mother’s; it’s one of the only things I still have that once belonged to her. The people in charge at the orphanage where I grew up gave it to me. Although it’s not my own birthstone, its presence comforts me when I feel unsettled; that’s how I came up with the idea for yours.”

Lizzie’s throat tightened at his words; she lightly placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

But Orion shook his head. “Don’t be; all of this happened a long time ago. It made me who I am today and I wouldn’t want to change that.” His gaze swept over the panorama below them; the reflection of the moon glittered on the rippling surface of the Black Lake.

“I don’t need a birthstone to remind me of my strengths, because I know very well who I am,” his voice had reduced to a whisper, moved with the same sadness like before, “although I can’t share my true self with a lot of people.”

Lizzie furrowed her brow; it had never occurred to her that Orion might be afraid to open up. “I’ve never noticed,” she admitted, “to me you are always acting the same. You’re maybe a bit more direct when you’re around friends, but that’s about it.”

“Masking what you want to say behind a lot of words helps you distinguishing between the people who actually care for what you have to say and those who don’t,” he explained.

“Why would you do that?”

“Most people just tune out when they don’t catch on to me,” he explained. “They don’t care to see past my position. To them, I am the eccentric captain of our team and nothing more. They see only what they are expecting to see, so in turn, it is all that I show them. But with you, it’s different; you’re listening to what I have to say. With you, I can be honest.”

Lizzie remained silent; she leaned against the railing, mirroring his position. But contrary to the calm surrounding Orion, she could feel a fist tightening around her heart at his words; she thought about all the lies she had amassed over the course of the last weeks.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s good to dig too deep,” she mused more to herself. “You might not like everything you find out about yourself.”

“Some things remain mysteries to us, that much is true,” Orion’s expression was unreadable as he turned his head and watched her. “You have become one to me as well, although you never were before. I don’t know what you’re running from, but I want you to know that you can always trust me if you need to share your burden.”

Lizzie felt like she would choke on the emotions welling up in her chest. She didn’t deserve an ounce of the trust he placed in her. She knew this was her chance to come clean and tell him everything, that she positively had to. But the words refused to leave her lips.

Instead, she reached out again and covered his hand with hers, her skin tingling as sparks shot up from her fingertips and coursed through her body at the touch.

“I know,” she breathed with a constricted voice.

It was hard to make out his thoughts as he turned his hand around and intertwined his fingers with hers once more. Lizzie hated herself for not withdrawing her hand at this moment, but she had lost control over her actions long ago.

Orion broke her out of her thoughts. “It’s lucky the moon isn’t full tonight, don’t you think?” His eyes were fixed on a particular assortment of stars. “You can actually see every star of the Leo constellation.”

“You can?” Lizzie mumbled, still distracted by her own thoughts.

Orion regarded her with an unreadable expression. “You don’t see it?”

Of course she did; Lizzie was rather good at Astronomy, she found the movements of the planets fascinating. But she shook her head anyway. “No, I don’t.”

“Well then,” he left his spot at the railing and stepped behind her to gain the same perspective. Even through the thick fabric of his coat, Lizzie could sense the heat radiating off his body. She held her breath as his left arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer towards him. She could feel his strong heartbeat against her back and closed her eyes for a moment. She opened them again as Orion started speaking, his right arm pointing out the single stars forming the constellation above them.

They stood like this for a while, Lizzie leaning against his chest while he held her close, the back of her head resting in the curve of his neck. He told her of the legend behind the Leo constellation, and how the Gods had raised it to the sky because the lion was deemed the King of Beasts.

She listened to the stories he told her with his warm and quiet voice while her eyes were tracing the familiar patterns of the stars. She knew all these things, but it didn’t matter to her; the only thing that was important was them, standing together on the highest point of the castle in the silver light of the ascending moon.

Her right hand was lying on his arm that held her, her fingers drawing tiny circles on his skin as he told her of the brightest star in the Leo constellation: Regulus, the Heart of the Lion.

“But even though it is the brightest of them all,” he murmured against her hair, “the light of the moon still eclipses it. That’s why we’re lucky the moon isn’t full tonight; on a night light this, you can see straight to the heart.”

He moved his head and Lizzie held her breath as his voice suddenly sounded very close to her ear. “But I believe you know all that very well.”

Shivers ran down her spine as his breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of her neck and she felt the rough stubble of his cheek against her jawline. Through the rush of emotions, she vaguely remembered that Professor Sprout kept him updated on all of their grades; of course he would know she did well in Astronomy.

Lizzie turned around in his arms to say something but couldn’t think of anything as she saw him smiling at her, his expression so tender that it threatened to take her breath away. Her own face softened as she brought a hand to his face and gently rested it on his cheek. There was no room for doubts anymore; shutting out her mind, she stood on her tip toes and brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth.

Nothing could have prepared her for the explosion of butterflies inside her chest as Orion’s arms wrapped around her and his lips moved against hers. They were a lot softer than she had imagined, a stark contrast to the stubble of his beard slightly pricking her upper lip. The smell of ginger, patchouli and cilantro hanging in his hair was close to intoxicating as she raked her fingers through it.

Everything else was gone, there was nothing left but the feeling of his lips on hers and the weight of his body pushing her against the railing in her back.

They broke apart for air and Lizzie felt her knees growing weak at the wild and raw emotions stirring his dark eyes. His hand found her neck and pulled her in again. Lizzie felt as if she was on fire, every nerve in her body alert to the maximum, as Orion’s hand tangled in her hair while the other rand down her spine. Their kiss grew deeper with every passing second and Orion smirked against her mouth as Lizzie teasingly bit his lower lip.

He pushed her away the slightest bit and was surprised to see the challenge sparkling in her eyes. “Anything wrong, Captain?” she grinned.

He brought his hand to her face, never breaking the eye contact with her. The spark shining in them was answer enough.

As his lips crashed onto hers this time, it was different; it felt as intense as before, but the mood between them had shifted to something else. As he brushed the tip of his tongue over her lips, she gladly parted them for him, completely losing herself in the moment.

She soon found herself pressing her body against him, her hands buried in his black hair, while his fingers dug into the skin of her waist almost painfully. She brought one of her hands behind her and pushed herself up on the broad railing to bring herself to one level with him, allowing Orion to come even closer as she wrapped her legs around his midsection.

They were so caught up in each other, they didn’t notice the steps approaching from behind.

“Excuse me, what are you two doing up here? It’s way past curfew, and get your hands off each other this instant!” a stern voice sounded from the entrance to the parapet.

Lizzie’s inside went icy cold at the familiar voice. She immediately pushed Orion away from her and hopped of the railing, wrapping his coat around her to hide her crumpled state of her shirt.

Rowan’s eyes widened in shock as she recognised whom exactly she had caught making out before shattering into the deepest look of hurt and heartbreak Lizzie had ever seen.

She started shaking her head and backed away a few steps, mouthing soundless words of disbelief, before she turned around and dashed towards the staircase.

Lizzie cursed under her breath and ran after Rowan. When she caught up with her, she reached for Rowan’s arm to make her stop. “Rowan, wait, I can explain- “

“No!” Rowan jerked free off her touch so violently Lizzie staggered backwards. In the light coming from her wand, she could see the tears streaking down her best friend’s face.

“How could you do this to me? I trusted you!” she cried between sobs that pierced Lizzie’s heart like daggers.

“I’m so sorry, Rowan, believe me I, didn’t mean to- “

But Rowan didn’t let her finish. “Of course you did! You have everything you could ever want, but you just couldn’t keep your hands off him!”

She took a step in Lizzie’s direction with such a fury that Lizzie inadvertently moved backwards.

“Charlie Weasley’s not been enough for you, has he?” she sneered, all her disappointment suddenly turning into anger. “It’s not enough you have him eating out of your hand; no, you had to go and get yourself the one guy that was important to me, that I thought liked me, because you can’t stand the thought of me having something that you don’t!”

The colour had drained from Lizzie’s face; not once in her life had she seen Rowan so furious.

“Rowan, you need to calm down,” Orion had come up to them, addressing the livid girl very cautiously, as if trying to soothe a spooked animal. “I’m sure we can clear this misunderstanding together.”

“Misunderstanding?” Rowan barked a humourless laugh that made Lizzie’s skin crawl. “The only misunderstanding here is that I thought you were my friend,” she spat at her. “When in truth, you’re nothing but a liar.”

Orion was looking at her now and she closed her eyes. ‘Please’, she prayed, ‘please, don’t.’

But Rowan carried on. “Did you never wonder why we wanted to study with you in the first place?” she asked Orion but her eyes were boring into Lizzie’s as she spoke. “It was all a ruse and nothing more. She promised me to help me getting to know you better, but that was a lie as well.”

Rowan grit her teeth. “The only truth here is that our dear Lizzie has a taste for Quidditch captains and can’t stand it when all attention isn’t on her.”

With a last scathing look at Lizzie, Rowan turned to leave again. When Lizzie reached for her arm once more, she whipped around and raised her wand.

“Flipendo!”

A bang cut through the quiet of the castle as the jinx hit Lizzie square in the chest, knocking her to the ground and driving her breath from her lungs. The pain itself wasn’t so bad; she remembered the feeling from her many years in the duelling club and Rowan’s defensive charms had never been the strongest. What really cut through her was the knowledge that her best friend had cast a spell to hurt her.

Orion was by her side immediately to check if she was okay, but Lizzie only had eyes for Rowan who stood frozen on the spot, incredulous of what she had done, before a strangled sob escaped her and she fled down the staircase, the clanking sound of her steps growing fainter with every moment.

With a groan, Lizzie came into a sitting position and rubbed at the point where Rowan’s spell had hit her.

Orion’s hand cupped her cheek as he searched her face for any sign of whether she was hurt. “Are you okay?”

Lizzie could only shake her head; his caring touch broke the tension of the situation and she felt the tears well up in her eyes. She turned her head away from his touch and covered her mouth with her hand as they started streaming down her face.

What had she done?

[cantgetoutofmyheda]

Omg can you write a one shot where Lexa is paid by her college peers to write love letters to their gfs/ppl they want to date. So Finn asks her to write for Clarke and it becomes a constant. Until one day clarke goes up to her and says I know its you

OKAY. So this has been sitting in my asks for like a year. There will be a few (but short-ish) parts to this. And before anyone asks, this is not based off of “The Half of It” ... but here ya go.

---

Letters

PART 1

It was Polis Record’s fault. Lexa’s atrocious week was definitely Polis Record’s fault. Had Titus not been a complete asshat of a manager and dicked the schedule around, Lexa certainly wouldn’t be having this predicament. Had Lexa’s hours not have been cut back, she wouldn’t be where she was. Had Lexa not known that her next paycheck would be half of what it normally was, she wouldn’t be writing a fake love letter to the devastatingly beautiful girl in her Astronomy class. Had Finn Collins not offered her cash to do so, she wouldn’t be writing this letter on his behalf, even though she was the one that’s had an earth-shattering crush on the recipient ever since their Freshmen orientation, four long years ago.

Let’s rewind.

“Titus, are you kidding me?” Lexa huffed at the bald-headed man who was scurrying around the break room like a headless chicken. “You did what?”

“Lexa, listen,” he tried to calm her down. “The schedule will be back to normal before you know it. I had to hire her. There wasn’t another way around it.”

She was mad. No. More than mad, “There was. But you just didn’t have the balls to tell your mistress’ best friend that you already had a full roster of people on your fucking schedule.”

“Can you keep it down!” He hissed. “This is temporary. I’m sorry. I couldn’t dock my cousin, okay? The schedule will even itself back out. You’ll be back to selling these shitty, scratched up vinyls in no time. Ride it out for two weeks, it won’t kill you.”

What he didn’t realize was that two weeks of half-pay because of shitty scheduling could actually kill her. He just didn’t realize that. There was the pressure of doing well in school, that was one thing. But there was also the pressure of doing well enough to keep her GPA high enough to keep her partial scholarship. And then the pressure of her shitty part-time job at the local record store to help make early payments to her student loans so she wouldn’t have to worry about crippling herself into debt once she figured out what to do with a fucking degree in Geology.

“Two weeks,” she warned him as she started to storm out. “This better be fixed in two weeks, Titus.”

Spoiler alert: Two weeks had come and gone, and Lexa was still screwed off of her work schedule.

“C’mon,” Finn pleaded at Lexa’s side. He had managed to weasel his way into the vestibule of Lexa’s apartment building. “I took that writing class with you last year. I know you’re good. I just need one letter. Typed. That’s it.”

She was already on the verge of a massive outburst after her conversation with Titus. The dickwad that he was, managed to screw her hours up for another week, even though he promised he wouldn’t, “This is not a good time, Finn. Seriously.”

“$200.” He stood tall in front of her. “$200 in cash right now, and all you need to do is type up a page of words that will have her vaguely interested in the person who wrote it, and that’s it. $200 right now. If you do this, then I’ll never bother you for anything again.” He scratched the back of his neck, “Listen, I just need a good way in. I can take the rest from there, okay?”

$200 was enough to cover a good portion of what she would be missing out on for the week. $200 was enough to get by. $200 was enough to get her mind to start churning.

“$300 and it’s a deal,” she tried to match his height. She straightened her back and broadened her shoulders as far as she could.

He laughed at the request, “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“You’re the one that needs me,” she reminded me.

He let out a huff and pulled another Benjamin out of his leather wallet and clumped it with the other two. “Fine,” he shook his head as he handed her the wad of cash.

Lexa nodded as she took the money. She buried the pang of guilt she felt into her pocket, alongside the earnings she just made and was ready to make way up the two flights of stairs when she felt Finn grab her arm.

“Hey,” he called out. “Wait a sec. I started a letter already, but didn’t get very far. You can just go off of this,” he handed her a folded piece of paper.

She opened it and read it aloud, “Have you ever felt like you couldn’t breathe? Like the weight of everything you’ve been carrying has amounted to this one moment in your life? Like there’s this burden placed so heavy on your chest that has left your lungs struggling for any ounce of air?”

Finn nodded as the words poured out of Lexa’s mouth. He was more than proud of what he thought was eloquently poetic. Lexa’s look of confusion went missed by him as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Pretty good, right?”

“Finn,” she deadpanned. “It sounds like you just described having the fucking Spanish Flu. I’m not using this. You sound like a serial killer.”

“What?” he yelped. “It’s poetic!”

“It’s a terrifying beginning to what’s supposed to be a love letter,” she deadpanned again. She shook her head as she finally made her way to the flight of stairs, “Give me a few days, I’ll come up with what we need.”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine. But you better make it good.”

She made it good. She made it really fucking good.

Clarke ran her fingertips over the paper as she scanned the words again. She had no idea who had left it for her—she walked into the lecture hall a few minutes early, as she normally did, and saw an envelope pinned to the corkboard with “Clarke” scribbled on it. She looked around, wanted to see if anyone in particular was looking in her direction. It was the usual suspects that always got to class a little bit early. Monty, the one who was always quiet in class but loudest at the neighborhood bar during happy hour. Echo, the girl who always sat in the back row and snoozed as soon as the professor opened her mouth. Finn, the boy who always found a way to have an uncalled for argument with the professor. Lexa, the one who was always in the front row and tended to herself.

Not a single one of them was paying her a piece of mind, so she let her eyes scan the letter one last time before the room filled up.

Clarke,

I was sitting on the lawn behind the library catching up on reading for a class last week. I was skimming through Voltaire’s words:

“Sensual pleasure passes and vanishes, but the friendship between us, the mutual confidence, the delight of the heart, the enchantment of the soul, these things do not perish and can never be destroyed.”

This particular passage struck a chord with me, and it was mostly because when I looked up after reading it, I immediately saw you consoling who I’d assume to be a friend of yours. I’m not sure what had happened, but she looked like she was crying and you showed up with a blanket to sit on, a bowl of fresh fruit, and sat with her and listened intently while she spoke. It was life imitating art, right before my eyes.

Voltaire’s writing is mostly straight and to the point. It isn’t hard to decipher the messages he often tries to relay, but it was most certainly a breath of fresh air to finish that passage to find a parallel to present day. Your actions on that lawn helped me see things a little clearer.

I suppose I just wanted to thank you for that. SO, thank you for being the catalyst for making something in my brain click.

Before I close this letter off, I do have a question for you. And if you feel so inclined to indulge and answer it, you can drop it back into the envelope where you found this one and pin it back to the board.

Has anything happened to you recently that struck a chord? Something that stood out to you, but you haven’t had a chance to dive deeper into it? I’d like to know.

Enjoy your week, Clarke.

Upon tucking the printed note under her laptop, she took another look around the hall, which was now practically full. She moved her computer to the side and pulled a notepad out of her bag. The professor had started her lecture, but Clarke’s mind wandered from the images pulled up on the projector from the Spritzer space telescope as her pen started to move across the page.

Hello,

I believe you’re at an unfair advantage here. You know my name. You know what I look like. Yet I have absolutely no idea who you are. So if you write back to this, I’m hoping you’ll share some insight on the person behind the pen (or keyboard, in your instance).

I’m happy that the interaction you saw helped bring better insight into what you were working on. Coincidentally, the friend that I was with when you saw me is also reading a Voltaire piece for an assignment. I wonder if you’re in the same class?

She’s taking “Romance Studies” as an elective. I tried to convince her that there was no point harping on what was considered to be “romantic” through archaic literary pieces that are now long gone, and replaced with mediocre-at-best Netflix series about teenage love.

It always seemed that with the way things were going in our lifetime… that all “romance” really was, was when two people swiped right on Tinder.

With that said… I guess I can honestly say that your letter is what struck a chord with me. Especially after freshly coming out of that conversation with my friend.

I don’t want to be presumptuous. But it seems that this gesture of yours, whether it was meant to be platonic, or if it was meant to imply a sense of something more, is making me realize that maybe—just maybe—the practice of sharing words on a page isn’t so archaic after all.

-Clarke

She was happy with the end result of what was hurriedly committed to the page. Clarke quickly tore it from her notebook and tucked the loose piece of paper back into the envelope. She scanned her fellow students to see if anyone was watching her. She slunk further into her seat and wondered if the recipient was there, sitting in that very room. Unfortunately for her, the lecture that was being given on the Nebular Theory kept the attention of every other person in the hall, so she quickly reached for her computer to start typing notes on the theory’s premise of how every planet in the system was formed.

A tedious hour later, her fellow classmates started packing up and rushed towards the exit door. Clarke took her time shutting her computer down and tucking things away into her bag. She was suddenly aware that the person who wrote to her—the person she now wrote to—could be in the room watching her to see if she had a written response back.

She waited a few more minutes, and finally deemed it safe when the last few people in the room seemed to be chatting with one another or finishing up straightening their notes from the lecture. With a big exhale, she pinned the envelope back onto the board and made a swift exit.

Lexa felt a tap to her shoulder, which caused her to look up, “What do you want?”

“I think it worked. She put the envelope back!” the excitement in Finn’s face didn’t go unnoticed.

“Okay,” Lexa lowered her head to finish writing out her notes from the class. “Job’s done.”

“I’m gonna go get it so we can read it and figure out what to do next,” he giddily let out before darting out of Lexa’s peripheral.

She let out a sigh of distaste when he came back half a minute later and pulled a chair close to where she was sitting. “Finn, you said one letter. I did it. This is on you now. And if you don’t mind, I need to finish up here,” she raised her hand, showing she was still trying to get some of her notes done.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he propped his feet onto the table in front of them while he silently read Clarke’s reply. “Hmm, Voltaire?”

The author’s name caught Lexa’s attention. She suddenly looked up to where he was sitting, “What about him?”

“I don’t know. Clarke said something about him. That’s the bad dude from Harry Potter, right?” Finn brought his attention back to the letter. “What did our letter even say? You never even showed me.”

He handed Lexa the notebook page with loopy and wide writing on it. The edges were jagged, as if Clarke did the whole thing in haste.

“What do you want me to do with that?” Lexa eyed the piece of paper.

“Read it and let me know if you think she likes me,” Finn shrugged. “But also, why didn’t you put my number or something on it?”

“Because it’ll probably take more than one letter for her to even be open to the idea of you,” Lexa chided in her reply. She let her eyes quickly scan the girlish handwriting and folded the paper back up. “She’s definitely intrigued.”

Finn finally set his feet on the floor as he leaned forward and rubbed his hands together, “Okay, great! So what do we do now?”

“We,” Lexa pointed her pen between the two of them. “Do nothing. You can write another letter and see if she wants anything to do with you, Finn.”

“C’mon,” he nudged her shoulder. “I’ll pay ya for another one. Another $300. But we need an exit plan for when we move this from letters to texting or something.”

“Her reply literally just said that we’ve opened the idea to her that letters are romantic,” Lexa shook her head. “Your take on that was to immediately turn this to a texting conversation?”

He grabbed the letter from Lexa, “What? Where’d she said that? It doesn’t say that, Lexa.” He scratched his head.

Lexa let out a defeated sigh, “Finn. She literally said something like, ‘maybe the practice of sharing words on a page isn’t so archaic’ or something. Did we not just read the same piece of paper?”

“See, Lexa,” he smiled as he patted her shoulder. “This is why I need you. Just one or two more. Same price per letter. I just need a little more help and then I’ll be outta your hair. Promise.”

She took her palm to her forehead and rubbed her thumb into her temple. One more wouldn’t hurt. Mostly because the $300 definitely wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine,” she finally let out. “One more. Give me her letter back. I’ll have our reply ready for this same class next week.”

“Excellent,” he grinned as he handed the piece of paper over to her. “You’re a lifesaver, Lexa.”

She felt anything but that. But at least it meant she’d be able to get by for the next week or two, while Titus still screwed around with her hours at the record store.

[aboutkoshi]

Three.

ft. Sugawara Koshi wc: 2500+  a/n: the idea’s been floating around my head and i just had to write it out... fluffy and domestic suga ahead!  

─

Everything is warm. The colors of the sky, as the sun begins to set. The kitchen, from the smoke the cooking pan births as you brew his favorite dish. The smile on your face, as you let the wooden spoon rest and turn your head to check the time. Your eyes land on a framed picture you had taken with him years ago; your arm clinging around his waist tightly, and his encompassing your shoulder even more tightly, both of you not letting the other have an easy win at who could smile the biggest. And finally, the feeling in your chest, accompanied with a hand that itches to reach for the phone to tell him right then and there, but you figure your patience will be rewarded when you get to tell him in person. 

Any minute now. You think to yourself, the corners of your lips having turned upwards to form the smallest of smiles at the mere thought. When you sent him off to work this morning, you had no idea you would be able to welcome him back home with such life-changing news. The smile, and the nervousness, only grows as your ears register the familiar sound of the door clicking open and close, with his voice chirping in between, and you swear you’ve never loved hearing your name as much as now. 

“In the kitchen, Koshi,” you hum as you begin to complete the final steps of your dish, but the overwhelming scent of chili and oil proves to be more useful in leading him to where you stand. One second you are stirring the pan and making sure everything is lathered evenly, and the next you find yourself jolting out of surprise as two dependable arms wrap themselves around your waist from the back. 

“Mapo tofu today? My birthday isn’t until a few more months, sweetheart,” he teases, chin comfortably lazing on your shoulder. You shake your head, eliciting a reserved chuckle. He allows himself an exaggerated whiff of the dish and exhales softly with a sigh. His hold around your figure is as gentle as it is firm, and he turns his head to press a kiss onto the side of yours, mumbling a muffled “I’ve missed you.” 

The house is warm, but the home is warmer.

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours since we last met, Koshi,” you reason playfully, unable to hold back another chuckle. You turn the heat of the stove down to low to grant yourself the ability to completely look the love of your life in the eye, and the little pout that greets you as you turn around is just as lovable as you had imagined. Your features soften, and as much as you’d like the pout to stick around just a little longer, you admit that the desire to see him smile is even bigger. “I’ve missed you more,” you mumble, arms looping around his neck, and you watch as he relaxes in your hold. He leans forth, just enough to let your foreheads meet. His eyelids are fluttered shut and the tip of his nose lightly nudges yours, and the giggle you let out is his favorite melody.

“Go shower. The tofu will be done just in time,” you urge, and he stays silent, wanting to be this close to you for just another prolonged second, eventually responding with a tilt of his head as he plants a tender kiss on your forehead. 

“That, I will do,” he grins as he pulls away, and you mirror it with one of your smiles. 

“Mm, take your time.” 

“That, I will not,” he cheekily responds. 

-

You set the bowls of tofu on the table, garnishing it with a last sprinkle of chili powder, nodding in content to yourself over how good they look, smell, and based on a few sneaky tests straight from the pan, taste. 

With the ring hugging your finger comes a few exclusive privileges. For instance, at least two kisses daily (one before every meal I get to eat with you, he says), the biggest embraces of pride and comfort, a hand to hold wherever and whenever, dates ranging from movies and pillow forts in the living room all the way to planned fancy dinners, a sweater or two to steal, and helping him pick a tie or cardigan that matches his clothing every morning. 

But your personal favorite has to be the sight that greets you as you look up; him walking out of your shared bedroom with his hair still half wet (just like every other promise he’s ever made, he’s lived up to his words of not taking his time), an almost reflexive grin growing on his face when your eyes meet, and a worn-out shirt that’s too big for him, one that he has an odd affinity towards and claims has brought him luck (I wore it for our first stay-at-home date, look where we are today, he had defended). 

He sits himself across from you on the dining table, rubbing his hands together in excitement and humming in delight. His reaction alone is enough to make you want to run out to the market to grab some ingredients to make another batch tomorrow. 

“Take your time and blow first, it’s fresh from the stove,” you remind with a firm nod, and are met with a response as sheepish as the simper on his face. 

“No promises.” and he takes a spoonful of a little of everything in his bowl, muttering a brief prayer of gratitude for both the food and you, followed by a quick “I’ll eat really well!” under his breath, and you hold yours as he takes his first bite. He makes sure to look at you as he chews, slowly at first, and the visible hint of his smirk tells you he’s only doing it because he knows you’re nervous. Ultimately, he reaches out to ruffle your hair, fully smiling as he finally swallows and nods in approval. “Any day now you decide to open a store of your own, babe, I call dibs on being your taste tester and forever favorite customer, alright?” With this, you beam, and take a first bite of your own. 

“How was work today, hm?” you ask, one hand using the spoon to mix everything in the bowl while the other hand is tucked snugly in his. His fingers are curled over yours, thumb caressing the back of your hand every so often. His eyes light up, and you are convinced that his enthusiasm has made him forget the fact he has actual steaming food in his mouth. 

“So you remember Akio─” he chokes on his half-chewed tofu, the violent coughing causing you to widen your eyes and hurriedly offer a glass of water. The panic is fleeting, as he finds himself laughing in his own embarrassment, and you chuckle, despite shaking your head in disapproval. 

“As I was saying,” he continues after a few gulps of water, clearing his throat to get rid of any remnants of discomfort, “you know Akio, baby? He finally gathered enough courage to confess to his little crush today!” It feels foolish to be this excited over a school grader’s love life, but in your defense, it’s been a story that both you and he have followed since a few months ago. “Really?!” you reply, “How’d he do it?” you question, at the same time using a napkin to wipe the corner of his lips where a light splatter of sauce has landed. “Bouquet of flowers, a shy and nervous confession, very traditional, very genuine,” he describes, and you nod, mouthing an ‘oooh’. “She said yes.” and you coo loudly at this, putting down the spoon momentarily to clutch onto your chest. “I’m beginning to believe it has a 100% success rate,” he smiles smugly, and you only shake your head in mock disbelief, having another spoonful of food. 

“I’m serious!” he laughs, “I mean. . . that’s how I scored you, too, wasn’t it?” The last bit is barely audible, and the tint on his cheeks is easy to miss when you’re too busy trying to cool the heat on your own cheeks down. He’s the first to recover from the shyness, and he titters as he brings your hand close to his lips so he can lovingly peck each of your knuckles. 

“On other news, Ume managed to score higher than her last test! I always knew she was capable, she just needed someone to believe in her until she could believe in herself,” he explains, and amongst everything there is to love about your husband, his passion towards his job and his love for children is definitely up there. 

“You did a great job today, as always, Sugawara-sensei,” you compliment, and though he brushes it off with a bashful chuckle, you catch the way his cheeks are splashed with your favorite shade of pink. “They’re adorable, baby. They make time away from you a lot more bearable,” he acknowledges. You smile, and you continue having your meal, but he does not. 

“It would be lovely to have one of our own.” 

You pause, and he only realizes afterwards that the words have been said out loud, as opposed to merely thinking them, and he rushes to add, “I-I mean─ of course I’d love to build a family with you, and just the thought of coming home to you and a mini you, or a mini me, is a dream come true, and─ but─” 

You squeeze his hand, silently telling him to calm and slow down, flashing him a reassuring smile that he hasn’t said or done anything wrong. 

He sighs in relief. 

“And I also know that that would require at least ten folds of effort for me, and even with that it would be so much more difficult on you than it would be for me, but all I wanted to say is. . is that as ready as I am to care for you and another human being, I am also just as patient to wait for you until you’re ready, no matter how soon or how late, so we can take our time, okay?” 

You let out a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding, and he is momentarily alerted by how you don’t respond with anything else, not even a nod. And so his lips part to say something, anything at all, to put any and all of your worries to sleep, and an extra apology because maybe he should have been more careful.

“How. . how soon would it be too soon?” 

It isn’t among any of the answers his mind had expected, and it’s evidently displayed across his face, but it isn’t one he isn’t willing to entertain. “Well─”

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Only the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest and his eyes boring into your soul, cautious enough to look and gauge any of your reactions, maybe a telltale sign that you were also trying to test his waters, but with thousands of thoughts running through and seemingly clouding his mind, he finds none. 

“You’re pregnant. .” he echoes in a barely audible whisper, eyes darting elsewhere for a moment, and then back at you. 

“You’re. . pregnant?” he whispers, and you nod slowly, the emotions coming in waves. The relief is calm and serene, the realization is causing an unfamiliar but welcomed tightness in your chest, and the exhilaration is begging to crawl out of your throat as you finally break into a hearty laugh, this time able to nod more confidently. It is only after you have gotten over your own emotions that you notice he’s in it even deeper. His brows are furrowed, a habit that makes its entrance every time he gets confused ─ in this case, probably about which emotion he should tackle first ─ his eyes are sparkling from how hard he is trying to prevent his tears from escaping, and his mouth is twitching as he barely manages a smile, one that is proud and elated. 

“Oh my goodness, you’re pregnant! Can I─ can I hug you?” and he is already on his feet before you even get to answer. The final peak of your emotions comes in the form of a strong ripple of happiness quite literally sweeping you off of your feet.  You squeal as he lifts you up and gives you a little twirl, putting you back down urgently only to cup your cheeks, thumbs smoothing out the corners of your eyes. 

“Am I hurting the baby while doing that, oh no─ oh, you are so beautiful, my darling!” he exclaims, and the stream of tears that decorates his face as he does so is a lot more than enough to make you cry along, as well as laugh at the silliness of it all, accompanied by spurts of giggles as he proceeds to pepper your entire face with kisses, all at the same time. He halts himself, your face still snug on his palms. 

“I’m going to be a father. .” he trails off, and another laugh escapes your lips at how there are visible stages to how he reacts to the news. You’d be the last person to make fun of him, however, as you’d pretty much gone through the same stages just this afternoon. 

“You’re going to be an amazing one,” you reassure in a murmur, kissing each of his palms and cupping the back of his hands. 

“Only because I get to raise our baby with the most wonderful person,” he replies, “it’s going to be so lovely, my love! We’ll get you signed up for one of those breathing exercises classes─ don’t worry, I’ll go with you to each and every one! I’ve heard enough from the mothers at school. What are you craving for right now? Was the tofu too spicy?! What color do you think we should be decorating our baby’s room with? And─” 

“And how about you. . accompany me for my first doctor’s appointment tomorrow, before anything else?” you kindly interrupt, because as endearing as it is to watch him be equally excited, if not more, the last thing you want is for him to overwhelm himself. And just for good measure, “We’ll attend. . all of the classes you want us to attend, and decorate our baby’s room together, and do so much more together, all when the time comes, yes?” and he nods in both excitement and understanding. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather be doing all of this. . and all of that with, my love,” he breathes out, “thank you, so very much, for making me the happiest man, every day,” and he brings you closer to kiss your forehead. As he pulls away, his gaze falls south to your tummy, and he looks at you as if for permission, and you wordlessly take his hand and place it onto your stomach. 

“We can’t wait to meet you, little one.”

─

[i-need-entertainment]

Not Scary To Me Pt.2

Character: Washio x single mom reader

*I would highly recommend reading Pt.1 if you want this to make any sense*

Pt.1-Pt.3

TW- mentions of toxic relationships and divorce, sad times for my mans Washio, mutual pining

 When you got there Komori and Suna were still tormenting Sakusa and Atsumu, Hinata had arrived and was talking with Meian and Tomas and Washio had started warming up with some of his other teammates. Bokuto had also arrived, something about his oven on fire? You spent the remainder of the hour getting paperwork and legal forms done, running back and forth between the main office and the gym. 

When the match started you were finally at a point where you could do your work in one place, so you chose the gym. You loved watching the team play, for starters they were really good! And it brought back memories of when you used to watch Washio play. And he just so happened to be playing on the court right in front of your eyes. It brought back a lot of memories watching him play. While you were watching the game, you zoned out and went back to when the two of you were in your second year. 

That game had been a particularly hard one. The whole team was struggling. Bokuto was long since in his emo mode, poor first year Akaashi was struggling to get him back up to speed and Washio was having an exceptionally hard time going against this third year spiker from another school. The game ended, and Fukurodani ended up losing…luckily it wasn’t an important game, really just a practice match, but it was the first game with the new starting line up so mistakes were bound to happen. 

After the coaches gave their input/advice and the players were dismissed, Washio made his way into a secluded hallway and sat down at one of the benches. He was blaming himself, you knew he was as soon as the game ended. You quickly went up to Konoha, asking if he knew where he was. He didn’t know his friends exact location but he knew the general direction so you thanked him and went on your way. 

When you finally found him he was bent over with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. Without saying anything you had knelt down in front of him, asking him to look at you. When he did, and you saw tears in his charcoal gray eyes it took every nerve in your body to will yourself from crying. And you weren’t even the one that lost! You were quick to pull him into a hug, your resolve almost cracking when you felt his arms weakly surround you before gripping onto you tightly. 

That was the night you knew, you just knew you had fallen in love with him. But with everything going on with Ken, and school you pushed the thought aside. But now, years later watching him play again, you can feel those feelings resurface. Except now you have Emiko to think about…

”WATCH OUT!” 

Your head shot up and you let out a squeak as you ducked, narrowly missing a ball that was headed straight for your face. Washio hurriedly made his way over to you, much to the satisfaction of his teammates. “Are you okay?” You shot him a smile as you fixed your hair and what not. “I’m alright, I got plenty of practice in high school.” You gave him a cheeky smile as he dead panned, a tint of pink traveling across his face. “I only hit you with one once.” 

You laughed before you heard a ‘oops, my bad’ from who you remembered to be Suna, looking over you saw him and Komori were smirking at something. Shooting the two a glare Washio retrieved the ball and made his way over to the court, getting a nice slap on the back from Komori and a ‘nice’ from Suna. You couldn’t contain the dorky smile on your face, shaking your head as you got back to work. When it came time for a water break, the teams retreated to their respective sides of the gym. 

“So, ya got the hots for their middle blocker huh?” You looked up from handing the team their water bottles to give Atsumu a glare. “Shut up Atsumu. We were friends in high school, we hadn’t seen each other till today.” Atsumu nodded, his mouth forming an ‘oh’. “But, you do still like him, right?” You stilled at that as you quickly looked to Bokuto, Hinata slapping a hand over his mouth. “Don’t say it out loud!” You see, during one of your outings with the boys, they had asked you about your past, Bokuto telling the story of you and Washio. Or rather the ‘almost love story’ as he called it. 

Of course, none of them could be bothered to tell you he was on EJP. (They purposefully told Bokuto to come in late so he couldn’t spoil the secret. Hinata was in charge of him :0) Bokuto looked at you strangely before looking at Washio and back at you. “But if he feels the same way what’s the problem? Plus that jerk isn’t there anymore”. You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed, “It’s a little more complicated than that…” he continued to look confused until Sakusa smacked him upside the head. 

“Don’t be so simpleminded. There’s a lot of things they both need to consider. Especially with Emiko involved.” Bokuto got it then, even if the situation still made him scratch his head sometimes. The game ended with MSBY winning 3-2, but both teams played well. “Tatsuki!” The middle blocker turned to see you walking over to him. He took one last drink of his water bottle and dried his face with his towel before turning to face you. 

“Yeah?” she looked down before looking back to him, “Would you like to join Emiko and I for dinner? I just went to see her, and she was adamant ‘Mr. Washio’ came too. It’s okay if you can’t but..” He smiled and shook his head “I’d love to, just tell me when and where.” Your smile was almost blinding at this point, and to Washio it was a nice breath of fresh air. “Okay! I’ll text you the details~ I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you later?” Washio nodded his head. “See you, Y/n.” 

With one last wave she walked out of the gym and headed towards her home, after picking up little Emiko of course. Washio went back to the locker room, showered and got changed into some casual clothes (during all of which he was choosing to ignore the smirks his two younger teammates were giving him.). *bzz bzz* he looked at his phone to see a text from an unsaved number.

Y/n: Hey Tatsuki! This is Y/n. Our address is xxx xxxx St. Go ahead and come around 5:30! Can’t wait to see you

 He smiled at that last part, ‘can’t wait to see you either, Y/n.’

 Tatsuki: I’ll be there, I’m looking forward to it :)

 It was 5:13 so he exited the stadium (after telling off his nosey juniors) and made his way to the address you had sent him. You however, were not as calm. Currently you were running around the kitchen, mixing and chopping things left and right. You looked at the time ‘5:13, okay, it’s fine, this is all fine! I have time…’ You set the timer on the oven and rushed upstairs, checking in on Emiko to make sure she was fine, and taking a quick shower. Now for the hard part…what to wear. 

On one hand you were home and didn’t really want to, or need to but on the other hand the man you’ve been in love with for a good 8 years was coming to your house for dinner so…a nice sweater and overpriced leggings it is. ‘okay…it’s 5:24 so he’ll probably-‘ Your thoughts were cut short when you heard knocking at the front door. Quickly focusing your thoughts, you rushed downstairs before checking the peephole 

**ALWAYS CHECK THE PEEPHOLE/WINDOW BEFORE YOU EVER OPEN A DOOR IT IS WORTH IT. USE A DOOR CHAIN OR SOMETHING TOO IT IS WORTH THE EXTRA FEW SECONDS!!***

 and opening the door when you saw it was him. “Tatsuki! Come in!” he thanked you and walked in, removing his shoes as you led him inside. “Emiko! Mr. Washio’s here!” Looking up the stairs you heard little footsteps before you saw a small head pop out from her play room. She then made her way down the stairs and over to Washio, giving his leg a little hug before she sat down on the rug in the living room. “Dinners almost ready, you can have a seat in the living room if you want.” 

He nodded, “Do you need help with anything, don’t say no if you do I don’t mind.” You just smiled, you never could stop him from helping you. “Well, if you insist I could use some help.” The two of you moved into the kitchen, you pulling dinner out of the oven and him, with your direction of course, getting out the plates and such. “Hey Tatsuki?” he turned to look at you, “Yes?” “Could you help me get this bowl? I can’t reach it.” He just nodded before he reached up and grabbed it, unintentionally flexing his muscles which were nicely defined by the navy blue button down he was wearing. 

Averting your gaze and releasing a small ‘thank you’ you quickly resumed your previous task hoping he wouldn’t catch onto your embarrassment. “Emiko, dinner’s ready” The little girl happily made her way to the table, lifting her arms to be set in her booster seat. Setting the plates and dinner onto the table, you sat across from Emiko while Washio took the seat at the head of the table. ‘Just like a family…’

You quickly shook your head and tried to push the thought out of your head. But as the dinner went on, it kept feeling more and more normal, more and more domestic. And you were feeling…really really happy. Fulfilled. As soon as she finished her dinner, Emiko lifted her arms, her usual signal to be let out of her chair. But instead of turning to you like she usually would, she looked at Washio. “Up!” you looked at her, “Oops, up, please!” She gave him the cutest smile as her little arms reached above her head. Washio thought his soul was going to leave his body. 

Breaking himself free of his thoughts he nodded his head as he stood up, helped the little girl down from her chair and almost cried when she hugged his leg and said “Thanks Washio!” Before you could even scold her for being informal, you saw the look of pure joy on his face when he sat down. “Y’know…you must be really special if she asked you to do that, and if she hugged you.” Washio looked over to you with a confused expression, “What do you mean?” You sighed as you placed your elbow on the table and your face on your palm, eyes drifting to where your little Emiko was playing with Bunny. 

“She’s usually painfully shy, I’m lucky to get her to talk to anyone other than family, let alone kids her age.” You then turned your gaze to look at him instead, his dark eyes moving to meet yours. “It means a lot if you two just met and she’s already infatuated with you. It means a lot to me too…” The rest of the evening was spent by the two of you catching up on what’s been going on in your lives for the past 5 years. It was about eight now, Washio didn’t have a specific time he needed to go since they were allowed to head back to Hiroshima whenever since today was Thursday and he didn’t have to work tomorrow. 

(Suna and Komori convinced the coach to give them the next day off, they gotta help their mans Washio!!) And since the two of you were having so much fun, he figured he could stand to stay a bit longer. “I’m gonna put Emiko to bed, I should be down in about 15 minutes.” You told him as you picked up the sleepy toddler. “Say goodnight, Emiko.” The little girl sleepily smiled at him before lightly waving “Goodnight Washio” before she returned her head to her mother’s shoulder. 

You got her changed into her PJ’s, read her a story, and got her tucked in when “Mommy?” You paused from turning off her light, “Yes honey?” she seemed to squirm a bit. “Will I get to see Washio again? I heard you say he lived far a way…” You gave her a smile, “Yes baby, you’ll see him again.” Your daughter than put on a sleepy little smile and closed her eyes, “That’s good…night mommy.” You turned off her light and cracked the door shut, you left it open so your cat, Kitty, could get in if he so pleased and cuddle with her. “Goodnight Emiko, I love you.” You heard a drowsy, ‘love you too’ before you left to go back downstairs. 

When you came back down to the living room, you saw Washio hang up on a phone call. “Sorry I should have made sure before hand, but, do you have a ride home? It’s getting late..” he looked at you and you could have sworn he looked flustered but you let it go. He sighed before explaining the call was from his teammates, letting him know they were leaving him and to come home whenever since they had the weekend off. “Well, do you want to stay here? We have a spare bedroom and my brother left some clothes here…” He opened his mouth, probably to refuse but before he could you cut him off, “It’s no problem, really! I took the day tomorrow to spend with Emiko and I know she’d love it if you came along so, really it’s no problem.” 

You gave him ‘the look’, which just so happened to be the same ‘look’ you gave him in high school when you wanted something, knowing he couldn’t say no. “Thank you…tonight’s been really nice.” You couldn’t help the flutter his words put in your heart, choosing to channel them into a shy smile. “Me too…” Not wanting this to turn into an awkward silence you clapped your hands together. “Alright. Since you’re going to stay here, you can help me with the dishes.” Chuckling a bit he nodded his head, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the dark blue sleeves up to his elbows. (Tell me I’m not the only one who just diEd) 

The two of you made your way to the kitchen sink. Being a middle blocker he was keen and observant, and having dealt with Bokuto’s mood swings, he was also keen and observant of people and their reactions. To be clear; he was very much aware of the way you couldn’t stop looking at his arms, it had been intentional after all. After knowing him for so long and seeing the mischievous glint in his eye and the small smile he had stuck to his face, you caught on that he was probably teasing you. ‘Two can play at that game.’ 

You inwardly smirked as you took off your sweater, revealing the tank top you had been wearing underneath (idk if you wear tank tops under your stuff bUT THIS AIN’T THAT TYPE OF STORY So you did). Turning around you lightly laughed when you saw how pink his face had gotten. “I didn’t know this was a competition” His face held a playful smirk as he joined you at the sink. Your expression matched his as you started washing and he dried. “It wasn’t until I won~” 

He shook his head but couldn’t shake the smile that had formed a permanent residence on his face since he had re-connected with you. After the dishes were done, with only a *little* splashing each other with the water, you two retired to the couch and continued your chat. It was about 10 when you decided it was a good idea to get to bed him, having played an intense game earlier in the day, agreed. You gave him some sweatpants and a shirt to wear, which were a bit snug since he was quite a bit bigger than your older brother, but he accepted them gratefully. 

After making sure everything was in order you shut off all the lights and showed him to the guest bedroom. “Goodnight Tatsuki and thank you for visiting…it’s been really nice. I hope we get to do it more often.” You said this as you gave him a hug, one he of course returned. “Thank you for having me…it means a lot…Goodnight Y/n” You nodded as you both separated, you giving him a small wave as you retreated into your bedroom shutting the door and turning off your light before getting into bed.

[nissakii]

Scent. a Haikyu!! Fanfiction pt.10

[want to read all chapters right now? Our fanfictions get updated every monday on our blog, click here to continue reading!]

The car we sat in pulled up to the university campus, and an eerie feeling of familiarity rushed over me.

Although I was only here for one semester before leaving, I forgot how many emotions I tied to this place.

Quiet thoughts krept up into my head until I realised the cab had stopped in front of the gate and the driver turned around to me.

“That would be 15,97, please”, I extended a twenty towards him with a polite smile and while he gathered the change I looked to the seat next to me.

There he was in all his glory, a snoring mess of a man. His eyes covered with arm and tucked to his right side, his other hand lying lifelessly on the middle seat.

So that’s supposed to be an adult huh?

I nudged his arm a little, but he only groaned and swerved to the side.

“Here you go”, the driver handed me a receipt and the change and took a slightly annoyed glance at the man next to me, “a heavy sleeper?”

“Yeah, apparently”, I retorted and took both hands to shake his shoulders.

“Sleeping beauty! Wake up! We’re here!”

“Hu-wah?”, was the intelligent response he gave, hoisting himself up into a sitting position until he saw the buildings outside from the window.

“We’re here!”, he grabbed at his backpack and slung it over his back a couple times before he got it right and grabbed the handle to open the door.

I shook my head but smiled and gave the driver a knowing look.

“Youngsters am I right?”

The driver tutted and turned around in his seat, “Aren’t you guys the same age?”

Maybe physically?

“Yeah, but he’s a walking preschooler”, I grabbed my own duffel bag and opened the car door with a swing.

The trunk was already open and I got my luggage handed to me a bit too hurriedly.

“Woah, woah easy there! You’re going to run me over!”

“Oh man I’m so pumped to be back! I missed this place!”, he rambled on and started dashing off through the gates.

Well he slept through the whole plane ride and up until now, of course he has the energy.

The jetlag already made me feel incredibly tired, as I looked at my phone I realised it was merely 11am, which meant I had a long day ahead of me.

While I had my phone out, I quickly texted a message and held back a grin as I saw it was read immediately.

“Course he doesn’t reply”, I muttered to myself before I walked through the gates as well.

The man in front of me already started to briskly walk towards the school building, even though we had to go to the reception first.

“Wait”, I shouted in his direction and he actually stopped for a second to look at me.

I started to jog with my luggage trailing behind me until I got closer, “why the rush? It’s not like they’re waiting for us to-

“BOKUTO!”

“OH MY GOD!”

For the first time in what felt like ages I picked up the familiar scent of fresh caramel steadily coming closer to us, and Bokuto who must’ve done the same let go of his luggage and ran towards the small figure coming closer and closer.

With a sigh, I took Bokuto’s luggage with my other hand and tagged along.

My nose twitched as the man’s lemongrass scent flared up in excitement as he ran towards the small omega.

He roared out a loud laugh as he crushed the giddy woman with a hug.

Muffled sounds came from his chest as he kept pressing her in until she tapped out with repeated taps on his back and gave a huge smile herself as he let her go.

“I missed you!”, the omega smiled wholeheartedly, and I couldn’t repress a snarky smile myself.

“I missed you too! It’s been so looong!”, Bokuto trailed and he stretched out his arms after crouching down to meet her small frame.

“Ah~ the little rascals found each other again, huh?”, I got closer to the omega but didn’t know if she was okay with a hug, so I extended both of my palms for a high ten.

She laughed cheekily before hitting my hands harder than I anticipated, and the sting in my palms made me grin wider.

Feisty as always.

“How are you doing Kuroo?”, she asked with a smile.

I nodded while taking a side glance to Bokuto, well ya know, with this idiot here it never gets boring so”, I rolled Bokuto’s luggage towards him, “what about you? Did you make new friends? How’s Kenma?”

I had hoped for a little second that he would at least greet me, but I was not only left on read but also ghosted apparently.

“He’s good, but you missed out on some stuff”, she whispered towards me with her hand shielding her mouth.

Some stuff?

“No way, what happened?”, Bokuto interjected.

If Mikoto found it important enough to drop it in casual conversation it must’ve been something big, but I don’t think she would spill it all now.

Even though I knew Mikoto officially for three years now, she was still a mystery to me.

I had met her at her highschool graduation that she attended together with Bokuto, since they knew each other since they were children.

Bokuto had always told me stories about their time spent together, and it was a fun coincidence that I knew her cousin Shirothrough Kenma.

Kenma, Shiroand I hung out throughout our middle school days even though she was two years younger than me, and I only learned of her relationship with Mikoto after I met Bokuto through highschool volleyball tournaments.

We were from different towns and had different lives, until we somehow all joined at the same university.

Small world, hm.

There was no match to the bond between Bokuto and Mikoto.

Those two have been inseparable for years on end, and I felt like Bokuto fulfilled a bigger sibling role for her. Since their parents got along just as well, they basically turned into a duo.

A duo of huge dorks.

“Long story”, she replied.

I was about to say something about the reception, when I picked up more scents that I could and would never forget.

There they were, Shiropushing a grumbling Kenma in front of her while she giggled.

Oh man, I really did miss them.

My steps quickened as I picked up the smell of vanilla and white chocolate filling my senses, and the giggle turned into a laugh as Shiroshoved herself with Kenma into me.

“oof-”, I grunted as she extended her arms around both of us, laughing harder as Kenma struggled to muffle something against me.

Wow, what a feeling.

“Hah! I’ve missed you kids!”, I plopped my hands on Shiroand Kenma’s head to which they both flinched and complained about.

“Let me go you weirdo”, Shiropushed my hand away in played disgust, but her sweet chocolaty scent couldn’t deceive anyone with a nose.

“So! Kenma~ I hope you’re staying up all night gaming hm?”

“Tch”, Kenma’s face scrunched up,”I think you should’ve stayed away for a year longer”

I chuckled at his defensive retort and found Bokuto and Mikoto rambling over something.

Craning my neck up I tried to look for other familiar figures, I tilted my head as I didn’t find anyone.

As if he matched my thought process, Bokuto did the same and slumped his shoulders as he found nobody else approached us.

“Wait”, he whined, “where’s Akaashi?”

His head drooped down and he pouted until the omega spoke up again to comfort him.

“Heey, don’t be sad! I think he’s caught up in a meeting, we should check the beta lounge”, she lightly hit him on his arms until life came back to him.

“Alright! Let’s go find Akaashi!”

Kenma and Shiroboth followed the two while keeping a couple steps behind, and I eyed the pair in front of me a little more. The beta and the sigma were really open since they basically had the same interests and knew each other for years, but as I took a closer look at their exchange something felt different.

Hm.

Trailing behind the group, I held my luggage behind me as its wheels charred on the asphalt.

Nothing about the building changed.

I mean it’s not like it’s been a decade, Bokuto and I were just gone for a year, but I had the feeling that something at least should’ve changed while we were gone.

I looked up at the sky, the late summer still bringing a warm breeze before the winter ultimately would take over. Other students going in and out of the building or sitting on the tables around either side.

Chattering of groups walking around filled my vision, until my eyes caught two figures farther away from us.

Both of them had their eyes on Bokuto, and I squinted to make out who it was.

Wait.

Did they look at Bokuto?

Both of them were wearing casual clothing just as everyone else did, nothing about them seemed suspicious.

The taller one eyed not Bokuto, but Mikoto with his chin tilted a bit high, while the shorter one looked a lot more calm.

My gaze snapped back to Bokuto and Mikoto who were pushing each other from side to side while laughing.

I looked back at the two men and they were talking to each other, before they turned around and left.

What was all of that about?

Previous Next

[spookysnicket]

Brahms, Jason, & Bubba HCs

@abduction-seduction: Omg yes pls!!! Could you do hcs or something for Michael Brahms Jason and Bubba with their lady dealing with an angry uterus?? I’m so irregular that when I do get it, it is from Hell. Will not stop bleeding (BLEEDING OVER EVERYTHING AND RUINING LOTS OF CUTE THINGS) cramps that make my stomach upset. All I want to do is lay in the fetal position and eat/and or drink/ chocolate all day 😂 I just want cuddles from my favorite slashers 😭😭😡😡❤️❤️ Thanks so much 🥰

---

(Again, I keep wanting to write drabbles instead of HCs- so these might be a little lengthy ): Sorry love! But I hope these make you feel a bit better! HCs below the cut)

Brahms Heelshire

🔥 Brahms is the most educated on menstruation out of these three- after spending so much time in the walls observing mummy and daddy, he’s vaguely familiar with the concept of what’s up with your downstairs

🔥 Though, granted Mrs. Heelshire’s age, it’s likely that Brahms has gone a while without anyone experiencing a period- if we’re assuming none of the previous nannies stuck around long enough to endure theirs in the manor

🔥 It was still rather early in the day, Brahms just finishing breakfast and watching you unload the newly delivered groceries. Breaking out of his trance, he noticed something odd sitting on the counter top across from him

🔥 A surge of curiosity pulsed through Brahms, who took a last mouthful of food before moving his mask down over his exposed lips and scooting himself away from the table. He moved to the sink with his clean plate, eyes still glued to the package all the while

🔥 Picking it up earnestly, he looked to you with cheerfulness in his eyes, “Y/n? Is this for me?” Brahms held out a bar of chocolate you’d made a last minute request for, upon discovering that your time of the month had arrived

🔥 “Well, maybe a little could be- if you’re a good boy, that is.” You smiled, though, in the back of your head now realizing that in hindsight you should’ve ordered an extra for the ever so insatiable Brahms

🔥 “Then what’s it for?” He questioned, sure to add a tinge of dejected tone. “Well, my period. I had a craving, so-“, “Period?” Brahms interrupted, cocking his head to the side

🔥 You giggled a bit at his bewilderment, “Time of the month. Err, menstruation- do you know what that is, Brahmsie?”

🔥 His head popped back to it’s previous even posture and his face flushed- body tensing with a jolt of embarrassment. Brahms nodded slightly before extending the bar of chocolate to you like a scolded child

🔥 “No need to be embarrassed dear.” You placed your sweets back on the counter and swiped up an empty box, raising onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to Brahms’s cheek before sauntering out of the kitchen

🔥 When you returned, you found an uncrusted PB&J waiting on the dining table, with a square of chocolate on the side

🔥 “Daddy always made mummy meals when she was unwell.” Brahms mumbled softly as he pulled a chair out for you. He didn’t allow for your response as he cleared his throat and continued, “What other cravings do you have, y/n? I’ll make dinner tonight, perhaps dessert, too?” Nervous excitement extenuating his words as he babbled on- his thoughts playing out overly exaggerated scenes of you relishing in his assortment of Michelin Star worthy sandwiches (accompanied, of course, by hopes of earning some of that ‘good boy’ chocolate)

Jason Voorhees

🏒 Though Jason is far from cleanly, and certainly one of the last people you’d think of to be off put by things like blood and gore- there are exceptions for you

🏒 Initial dread sets in after he’d walked into the cabin and noticed you lying on the shared bed, motionless and swaddled in red smeared sheets

🏒 ‘Campers? He was sure he didn’t miss any of the pestering trespassers. Had someone broken in and hurt you?’ Are just a few of the manic thoughts swirling Jason’s head like a hysteric tornado

🏒 He trudges over to you in incredible silent strides, ripping you out from the bed to assess any damage

🏒 You, of course, are startled and frankly scared shitless as you’re torn from your warm blankets and deep slumber by a very handsy Jason

🏒 Pawing, gripping, and groping at your sleepy form- Jason man handling your body is an act so out of character for your usually docile and gentle lake zombie, that it grants for your first reaction to be equal concern

🏒 It takes you a moment to connect the dots, with Jason’s hands speeding around you, but he quickly deduces that the deepest blotch of dark crimson is located between your legs. As he goes to heave them apart in search of your wound, you yipe and push his hands back

🏒 Grunting in surprise and guilt, Jason’s grip finally leaves your body as he looks into your eyes in search of explanation

🏒 Flustered and distressed, an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment floods your every vein as your nerves fire off, cringing into yourself and instinctively covering your face

🏒 “Don’t worry, Jason. It’s just my period.” You trail off sheepishly, though Jason isn’t comforted by the answer one bit

🏒 Too ashamed to say a single word more, you hurriedly rush off into the washroom

🏒 While you shower, Jason absently works on dinner- engulfed with hurt and concern before his thoughts are dissolved by one fond, motherly voice

🏒 Pamela makes a very welcomed visit to her boy in this time of need, guiding him through all the wonders of the uterus experience

🏒 Once out of the shower and into a new change of clothes, you’d all but managed to wash off the regret of earlier’s events. You reflected in the mirror for a while, working out ways to help Jason understand your body, and to apologize for leaving him in such a distraught state

🏒 Peering out the door and into the bedroom, Jason sat rather uncomfortably for his size on the side of your now made bed

🏒 Standing in the doorway, you mustered the best explanation you could. Jason leaped forward, cutting you off mid apology, and pressed you to him in a tight embrace. It was another rather unusually forward gesture from Jason, but one you found comforting- gladly reciprocating it

Bubba Sawyer

🐓 When it comes to Bubs, his family is a big part of his character, so that’s where we’ll start

🐓 These boys, ohhh these boys- the Sawyer clan has always had a strongly unbalanced gender ratio, so you’ll be mostly on your own when your monthly friend visits downtown

🐓 While Drayton has some experience with the cycle, he gets grossed out by it and wants absolutely nothing to do with helping you out. If you’re willing to argue for it, you can get excused from chores until the flow ends- as long as you promise not to bring up the topic around him again

🐓 Chop Top and Nubbins know that you bleed, but they never quite got the grasp of why. It probably won’t prove much worth to try and explain it to them either, since they won’t stop giggling like a bunch of school girls the whole lesson

🐓 And Bubba, poor Bubba, has no clue as to why one morning he woke up beside you with your legs all bloody. It sure as hell nearly gave him an aneurysm as he flailed over himself to shake you awake with mortified whinnies and screeches

🐓 Your makeshift pad was no match for the wrath the old ovaries had harbored overnight, it seemed

🐓 As you’d not thought to mention or explain your period to Bubbsie, he’d gone and thought that during his restless sleep- he steamrolled you flat as a mat, and you’d bled out like a squashed bug

🐓 After calming Bub down to gentle sobs, you explain that it’s just “something people with certain parts have to do every month”, bless his heart

🐓 You were so calm about the whole situation, that to him was a full on red alert emergency. You’re so brave!

🐓 Groggy, his mind still hazy from sleep and brain scrambled by the aftershock of sudden panic and this bizarre new information- Bubba was once again befuddled after you casually switched to complaining about the mess all over your favorite panties

🐓 His heart as noble as always, Bubs managed to click into care mode despite his utter confusion, lurching off the bed and over to the closet in search for fresh clothes

🐓 Bubba tenderly laid a set of day wear onto your lap with a couple tender pats before shuffling over to your side of the bed- tugging on the sheets lightly as to ask you to stand so he could change them

🐓 You thought to do so for a moment, before yawning and groaning at the all too familiar sensation that pulsed threateningly in your abdomen- the dreaded morning cramps

🐓 Instantly detecting your unsettled reaction, Bubba recoiled his hands to his chest, worrisome whimpers escaping his lips

🐓 He kneeled down in front of you as you rubbed your stomach on the edge of the bed. “Hey Bubbie, sweetheart, you think we can lay down a little while longer?”

🐓 With a few earnest nods, Bubba removed the clothes that sat on your lap and crawled back onto the bare mattress beside you- shoving the stained sheets to the foot of the bed

🐓 Considering repeating the gentle circles he’d seen you massage into your belly, but too fearful to put you in further pain, Bubs reached an arm above slowly- gauging that you’d push it away had you not wanted to be touched- and delicately placed it over your tum

🐓 Your content sigh was enough encouragement for Bubs, as he nuzzled himself into the crook of your neck and began to glide his hand over your midsection with a comforting pressure- cooing to you with gentle hums

[lolabean1998]

This Better Work Part 4

Sweet Pea X OC

Summery; Hey guys, not sure how well this is going to go but I originally put it on Wattpad so its way long, but hopefully its not horrendous. Let me know what you think! So, it follows the story line kind of, it’s not exact but I have tried and it follows my OC Ali as she navigates through the hell that is Riverdale. Whilst struggling with financial, social and romantic difficulties, she has the added pressure of keeping up with school work and bonus of being thrown into the frightening world of the criminal underground.

Side Note; None of the gifs or pictures I use are mine, I’m not talented or smart enough to even begin an attempt at making my own. Thank you to those who have such abilities and if you don’t want me using them then please let me know so I can remove them for you. 

Word Count; 5,606 (Give or Take)

"Sun's Up kiddo lets go. I'll drop you home on my way to visit the monster himself." Sheriff Keller called freeing Ali from the confines of her cell. She sat up glancing at the empty cell beside her. Sweet Pea must've been picked up already. 

"Thanks Sheriff Keller. How are the guys after last night?" Ali asked apologetically, walking out the cell to fall into step behind the Sheriff as he led her to his car.

"Nasty headache and a bruised ego but nothing serious. They'll be fine don't worry Ali. You had good reason for it." He comforted her. She hated losing her temper like that. She hated hurting the people trying to help her. It tore her apart inside when she thought about everyone she had hurt. 

"Don't worry about it Ali. They've taken worse and you were very careful not to injure any one. Just sent them for an early nap is all. They're fine." He assured her when he caught the worried expression on her usually happy, smiling face.

"Thank you Sheriff. For everything." Ali smiled when they reached the small cottage by the border of Northside and Southside. She stood and waved goodbye as he drove back to Nick's Hotel. Her front door flew open the second she stepped foot on the drive, both her mum and Izzy came charging over wrapping her up in suffocating but warm family hug. She loved their family hugs. Even if she did struggle to breathe with them.

"Ali are you ok? We were so worried. When Keller rang last night to say you took on 5 of his deputies and that he had to tase you just to get you into a cell I didn't know what to do." Rosie blurted finally pulling back when she realized her daughter was gasping for air. 

"Come inside we've made chocolate chip pancakes and fresh orange juice." Ali's stomach growled loudly at the mention of food making them all laugh. 

They sat round the island in the kitchen discussing all the events of the night before, debating what would happen to Nick St. Clair now. However knowing Mrs. Blossom they doubted anything would really be done. Ali and Izzy agreed to cook up a proper family dinner, whilst Rosie went to collect Cheryl. Taking her for a walk by Sweet Water River so they could have a heart to heart before taking her back to spend the rest of day with them. Ali had been so focused on making sure her friend was ok she completely forgot about the Serpent jacket she was now holding hostage from last night.

Cheryl spent the whole day laughing and relaxing with Ali and her family. They were more of a family to her than her actual family was. Besides Nana Rose of course. After watching their third movie of the night the girls decided to head to Pops for a milkshake and fries. Cheryl sat in the booth waiting with her milkshake whilst the girls went up to place their order and talk to Pops about work for Izzy. She was sat in her bubble of happy thoughts when a bone chilling voice shattered it. 

Nick St. Clair. Ali watched as the boy snarled and hissed at the girl, creeping his way over to the booth. She had to keep her cool. For Cheryls sake. But that didn't mean she couldn't break his nose again. Ali strolled casually over smiling as brightly as ever placing a hand gently on Nicks shoulders turning him softly to face her. Her face bitterly sweet. 

"You have something right there." She pointed to the tip of her nose, her eyes and smile as innocent as ever. 

"Here let me get that for you." Her face dropped to temperatures below freezing almost immediately. 

Before he knew what was going his face was crashing with Ali's knee. The fowl boy cried out in pain as he dropped to floor in agony and grabbed his now bleeding nose. Ali wasn't done. She grabbed his hand twisting it behind his back and slamming him face down on the counter in front of Pops. 

"Apologize for bleeding everywhere." She commanded, scowling when he refused. 

"Come on now. I thought you city mice had manners." Ali mocked, her voice as light and bubbly as always. The signature Ali smile plastering her face but her eyes were colder than ice.

"I'm s-sorry." Nick stuttered. "I-I'm s-sorry for b-bleeding every-where." He apologized again, when Ali twisted his arm a little more, squeezing out the full sentence she had asked for.

"Now apologize for your disgusting, pig headed behaviour the other night." Ali ordered swinging him round to face Cheryl who had gone very pink in face. 

"Sincerely." Ali growled tugging the hair on the back of his head, so he looked up to face Cheryl instead of the floor.

"I-I'm sorry for my disgusting, pig headed behaviour the other night." Nick said through gritted teeth. Trying desperately to sound as sincere as possible, considering the pain that was cracking through his arm and face. 

"And for the way I treated you. It was disgusting and vile. I'm Sorry." He croaked before Ali threw him back over to the bag of food waiting for him in front Pops.

"Oh my Nicholas, your face looks much better now. Much easier to look at, here you may need to use this. You've got a little something on your nose." Ali smiled innocently as Izzy and Rosie handed him a wet wipe each.

"I'll get you for this country mouse. You should know not to pick on us city mice." Nick snarled grabbing his food and storming towards the door only to have a well-manicured hand slam it shut just as he went to leave. 

"Oh, Nicki darling." Ali said in her sweetest condescending tone. Smiling sweetly at him as he turned to face her. Now surrounded by the Masters family and several other members from inside the diner. Rosie leaning against the door menacingly with Izzy. Ali leant calmly against the booth behind her, admiring her long-pointed nails. Flicking her cold, threatening eyes up to stare deep into Nicks eyes. Piercing his soul. 

"There’s a reason they call me Ali-Cat!" She spat coldly before turning on her heels and walking back to the counter. Izzy and Rosie both shoved past Nick laughing as he scurried hurriedly through the door. The diner erupted in a round of applause and the Masters girls each took a very low curtsey laughing as they went. 

"Sorry about that Pops. Want us to clean up the blood?" Ali offered politely. Pops shook his head chuckling to himself.

"No, no it's ok. You girls have done the world a favour. The least we can do is mop up a little blood splatter. Shame he's so prone to nose bleeds." Pops winked turning to grab a mop so he could clean up.

"Have I ever told you that you are the greatest and scariest human beings Ever?!" Cheryl claimed a wave of relief washing over her. It was nice to know that her friends had her back so fiercely. 

The girls laughed and joked the night away, pushing the monster that was Nick St. Clair behind them and moving forward. Their laughter filling the diner with a bright angelic aura that seemed to take hold of anyone that entered.

"So Jug, when are you telling FP that you joined the Serpents?" Ali asked giving his bike the once over. Making sure she hadn't missed anything when changing a part for his brakes. 

"Figured it's safest for me to tell him whilst he's still in prison. At least that way he has time to calm down before he crucifies me." Jughead groaned only half joking.

"You make a fair point Jones. You my dear friend, are a dead man walking." Ali responded her tone wise and knowing.

"My biggest concern at the moment is this Ghoulies alliance Tall Boy is forming." Jughead informed her, frowning a little when Ali flinched at the mention of the Ghoulies and Tall Boy.

"Yeah Malachi was talking about that a few days ago, something about an upcoming drug runner from the Snake side. Whatever you decide to do I've got your back but we both know you hold more influence over the snake pit than Tall Boy does." Ali reassured him. She knew Jughead well enough to know that he would never let the Serpents join forces with the likes of Malachi and his cannibalistic crew. Jughead shot her a worried glare.

"What do you mean drug running snake? Did he say who?" He fired questions at her like she was a magic 8 ball. Ali threw her hands up in mock defence.

"I don't know I just heard something about a drug running snake and going Snake side. Let's just focus on holding your own turf for now yeah Juggie?" Ali suggested seeing the growing concern on his face. 

"Brakes should be good now and since you got me up so early, you can give me a lift to school. Got some stuff to pick up before the holiday." Ali grinned grabbing her helmet and peeling off her grubby overalls to reveal her usual black high waist jeans, skin tight grey vest and navy-blue hoodie to match her blue combat boots. Jughead rolled his eyes climbing onto his bike waiting for Ali to finish fastening her helmet behind him before taking off at speed down the road towards his old school.

"I'll wait here for you. No sense in making you walk back." Jughead called as Ali bolted towards the school. Grabbing a large folder filled with blue prints. Her project for the holiday. Returning minutes later carrying a large blue folder and her infamous black rucksack with a magnificent painted Indian war horse sewn on the back. Ali stopped at the bike shoving the folder in her bag before jumping on the back and wrapping her arms around Jughead signalling for him to go. Jughead thundered down the road to the Wyrm, dropping Ali off before heading off to his meeting with Tall Boy.

"Sounds like Tall Boy's stirring up trouble again, rumours of a Ghoulies alliance and what not." Ali gossiped entering the office at the back of the bar where her mum was shuffling through mountains of paperwork.

"Oh dear, like they don't have enough to deal with! No wonder their financial system is such a state." Rosie exclaimed scanning through a large document before looking up at her daughter and sighing. Pulling her glasses off to give her eyes a rest. 

"Your sisters gone down to Pops to pick up some food for us all. She's quite the player that one. Got your manipulation technique down to a T. She's managed to wrangle us some helpers, bright ones too." She complimented brightly. 

"I see you're planning on multitasking again. What are you building this time?" Rosie stated pointing towards Ali's trusty rucksack. Ali just grinned and waved it off.

"That’s for us girls later. Think you're going to like it though. Finished drawing up the plans for it the other day." She grinned throwing her bag on an empty chair in front of the overcrowded desk and pulling out the Serpent jacket she had borrowed during her night in the cell. 

"Think its about time I give this back. Now that its clean and no longer smells like the stale end of whiskey bottle full of cigarette ends." Ali added smelling the leather jacket.

 "Used an extra helping of those scent booster things on the lining to get rid of the stench of boy and blood. Also patched up several tears that could only be from a knife. Looks good as new don't you think?" Ali said triumphantly holding up the jacket to show off her masterpiece. Rosie's eyes wandered over the spotless jacket, her face rising to form a very impressed and approving look.

"Nice work Ali. You've just made him the sharpest dressed laughing stock of his own biker gang." She joked just as the door flew open and Toni and Fangs burst in looking exhausted, carrying several large bags of Pops food. The smell filling the room forcing away the previous smell of old paper and beer bottles.

"What happened to you two. You're acting like you've just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson!" Ali remarked moving her bag just in time for Fangs to crash on the chair with Toni following. Flopping down on his lap like a rag doll.

"They just wouldn't STOP!" Toni breathed pointing an accusing finger through the door to where Sweet Pea and Izzy were setting up the pool table having a very heated debate.

"The hell is going on there. Big foot almost seems," Ali paused trying to think of the right word. "Happy?" She questioned with surprise, her brows furrowing in the confusion at what she just said.

"What’s with the new jacket any way Ali Cat? Don't tell me you're joining the Serpents, I couldn't possibly handle MORE of you!" Fangs exaggerated with a cheeky wink and a grin making Ali chuckle.

"Nah you're off the hook on that one, happy feet over there lent me his jacket the other night in the holding cell and I forgot to give it back so I figured the least I can do is clean it up for him. Smell it, no longer smells the dirty end of a back alley." Ali revealed passing the jacket to the pair to smell. Laughing when they looked up in amazement at the difference she had made.

"Damn girl, want to fix mine up to while you're at it?" Toni coaxed using her best puppy eyes.

"Anything for you my dear darling Topaz." Ali teased emphasizing her strong English accent. "Just drop it in my bag and I'll do it tonight." She said before sauntering over to the pool table, jacket in hand. 

"ALI!" Izzy cheered running over to her sister, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist before letting go and bounding back to the table to take her shot.

"Well if it isn't our very own Cinderella Croft! You finally able to let go of my jacket now?" Sweet Pea smirked. A smug grin plastered on his features as Ali approached. Shoving the jacket hard in his chest winding him a little, patting his shoulder gently with the other hand. All the while holding the smile that seemed to light Sweet Peas entire being. 

"Cute. Was that Izzy's idea to blend the two nicknames together? I only ask because quite frankly, you don't have the brains.” Ali taunted teasingly, tilting her head a little as she spoke. 

"Took me that long to clean it. You should really take more care of your boy scouts uniform." Ali teased turning on her heels and walking back to the office. Leaving Sweet Pea to watch in awe as she walked away, smelling his clean new jacket. He was falling hard. 

Izzy sat back watching the whole thing, waiting until her sister was out of ear shot before making a long whistling sound closely followed by a crashing sound. Mimicking the sound cartoons make when a character falls from a cliff. Sweet Pea turned to scowl at her in mixed confusion and suspicion. 

"What was that sound?" He demanded throwing on the jacket and smiling to himself at how comfortable and soft it was, how it smelt like flowers instead of stale whiskey and smoke and how the slices from previous knife fights had vanished.

"The sound of you falling head over heels." Izzy commented nonchalantly moving back to their game of pool. 

"So, what was the crashing sound at the end?" He asked curiously leaning against the pool table next to the little girl.

"The sound of you realizing everyone but her knows." Izzy replied climbing up on the stool Sweet Pea had dragged over when he saw her struggling to reach her mark. 

"Damn you got the good stuff. Sweet Pea smells like Sweet Pea's. You know that’s her favourite flower and scent? Most people stop to smell the roses, she stops to smell the poisonous flowers climbing the wall of our house." Izzy stated. Rolling her eyes at Ali's choice of scent boosters. Of-course she washed the jacket of her favourite Serpent with her favourite soap.

"Hang on, everyone knows what?" Sweet Pea asked dumbfounded making Izzy groan at his stupidity.

"Oh no you don't, you've got to figure that one out on your own." Izzy declared. 

"If I'm right, Toni owes me almost 50 bucks." Izzy muttered to herself, half hoping he heard and it triggered something in his brain.

Once the pair finished their game, they decided it was probably best if they went inside to help the others sort through the mountains of financial papers for Hog Eye. 

"Will you quit sniffing it. The smell isn't going away any time soon." Izzy said sarcastically as they entered the office.

"Pea isn't used to the smell of clean Isabelle, leave him be." Ali responded Nonchalantly. Her eyes glued to the forms in front of her, twirling a pen between her fingers. Toni and Fangs snorted almost immediately at her comment whilst Sweet Pea just stood there scowling at her. 

"Take a photo Pea it'll last longer." She remarked in the same casual manner as before, her eyes still fixated on the pages before her.

"There isn't a camera strong enough to capture that much ugly without combusting." Sweet Pea grumbled taking a seat and starting on the papers Izzy had handed him.

"Sure there is, just use yours. If it can handle your ugly mug it can certainly handle mine." Ali responded taking a bite out of her cheese burger. Toni and Fangs now struggling to contain the knowing grins that were slowly taking over them. Sweet Pea went to reply but came up blank, instead he just opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. Ali flicked her eyes up at Sweet Peas slack-jawed expression. Raising a devilish eyebrow at him, a small smirk toying on her lips. 

"Cat got your tongue?" She teased sending everyone into a short burst of snorting giggles.

Izzy raised her chin to Toni and Fangs before making the same cartoon fall sound she had made earlier. Jerking her head slightly, towards Sweet Pea making them laugh even harder. 

"Rock, Meet Bottom." Ali playfully teased, her positive vibe and insufferably bright smile obliviating any potential for insult. Instead, pulling a small chuckle from Sweet Peas throat.

"You got me there, that was good." He chuckled pulling out a pen and note pad to start writing down some calculations. Toni and Fangs stared up at him, shock sprawled across their faces at his comment. He never admitted defeat. Let alone complimented someone over it. Sweet Pea looked up from his calculations, feeling their gaze burning into the top of his skull. 

"What? believe it or not I actually pay attention in class." He defended thinking they were surprised at his maths skills. Remaining completely oblivious to the real reason they were star struck. 

"Ok so from these stock and profit forms, Hog Eye seems to be charging 10 bucks per shot and 15 per beer. I get that a lot of money earnt isn't through the purchase of alcohol, but you've got to give some excuse that's legal." Rosie piped up finally looking up from the scattered papers she had been pouring over for the last few hours.

"So why don't we put the excess profit down as payment for space hire, to cover how he's getting the money. I mean for all we know that's what's happening." Ali suggests holding her hand up to silence the three Serpents. "Plausible deniability if you please." 

"Ok so how do we explain where its going then?" Fangs questioned looking up from his own calculations.

"That's obvious isn't it." Sweet Pea chimed in, gently biting the end of his pen. The group shook their head simultaneously. 

"Please Elaborate." Izzy pushed politely, twisting herself round on Sweet Pea's lap to face him properly. He was becoming more and more like a big brother to her. 

"Well so far he isn't accounting for Toni's 'Overtime' money." He began, air quoting the word 'overtime'. 

"He's also missed out the car and bike payments. So we've already covered a fifth of his spending’s just with overtime money and vehicle maintenance. Then there's the money to keep the bar insured and pay for the alcohol licenses for his staff when he's not at the bar. There's another fifth. Give or take a bit. And since the rest is snake money, we can put that down to protection money. He pays the Serpents to keep his bar and family safe." Sweet Pea explained sending multiple jaws hitting the ground in a wave of shear disbelief.

"Ok this could work. We need to start adding up all bar profits and snake profits separately, so we can divide it up in the correct ratio." Toni thought after a moments reflection. The team nodded in agreement before clearing the desk and starting from scratch. Putting their heads together to figure out what was what. 

After several hours gruelling hard work, they decided to call it quits and finish for the day. It was evening after all. The team headed out into the now busy bar, waving to Hog Eye so they could grab a round of drinks before taking their mind off things and playing a few rounds of pool.

Ali woke the next day to a blinding head ache and a living room full of bodies. Apparently one round of drinks consisted of several shots of various spirits and a strong beer. Ali sat up slowly, holding her hand to her head as the room began spinning. Her stomach tumbled over in knots. She felt as if she'd charged head on into a speeding bus. Never the less she had cars to fix today so she soldiered on. Dragging herself quietly to the kitchen to concoct her famously effective Hangover cure, making sure to close every door so the sound of the blender didn't wake any one. 

She had just finished making everyone a glass of hangover cure each when she decided the best thing for her, was to jump in the shower to wash away the night before. Flash backs of her and Toni dancing on the table, clouding her vision as she entered the bathroom. Stripping down to her under wear and grabbing a fresh towel from the towel rack. 

Slamming into a wall of muscle and damp warmth as she turned back round sending her flying back. A pair of large hands grabbing her arms before she slipped on the wet floor. Ali's memories of the night before darting to the back of her mind. Clearing her vision. Standing in front of her with nothing more than a towel and a smirk on, was the one and only Sweet Pea. Ali quickly regained her balance, kneeling to grab a floor towel from the cupboard beneath the sink before she slipped over again. She straightened up looking at Sweet Pea in a dazed confusion. Unable to say anything she just opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. Now she was the one looking like a fish.

"I'll fix that once I've changed into a fresh set of clothes." He said pointing to the leak from the shower. Stepping closer so their bodies were almost touching, looking down to Ali's bright blue eyes and smirking. 

"Unless of course, you like me in the towel." Ali's eyes widened at his comment and she quickly shook away the catatonic state she had been in.

"The only thing missing now is a paper bag for your face." Ali quipped placing a hand on his muscular chest and pushing him back so she could move around him to the shower. Turning it on and turning back to him. 

"There’s a glass of hangover cure downstairs and since you’re the only other person awake and I made juice, you're on breakfast duty. Now get your ass out of here so I can shower you pervert." She added playfully, pushing him out the door and locking it. Her heart racing as muddles of thoughts began clouding her mind again. No. I need to wash this fog away and get my mind set and ready for work. Ali thought as she jumped in the shower, scrubbing away the groggy feeling that clung to her skin from the alcohol.

Downstairs, Sweet Pea had finished changing into the clothes from last night that Rosie had offered to wash. She had handed the three guest some spare pyjamas giving the boys a set of Ali's fathers old sweats and Toni a set of Ali's pyjama sets to sleep in whilst she put their clothes in too wash. He raided the cupboards debating on what to cook when he finally settled on following the instructions left by Ali in a notebook she had labelled 'Food cures and recipes to save a life'. 

Underneath the recipe for her hangover cure was a list of foods for a good old fashioned full English breakfast. Which was apparently 'the best food for a hangover'. He began frying up the eggs and bacon. Putting on some sausages and mushrooms whilst waiting for the toast. The smell of food wafting through the house gently waking the rest of the group who, unlike Ali and Sweet Pea, weren't looking too great. 

"He can cook? I'm impressed. There was me thinking you were going to pull out the cereal bowls." Ali teased skipping into the kitchen wearing her usual garage gear. That consisted of an orange sports bra with her navy-blue garage overalls. The sleeves tied around her waist exposing her toned abs and back. She plopped herself on a chair by the kitchen island. Watching Sweet Pea cook whilst she attempted to throw her hair in a French braid. Growling to herself when she got muddled up. She was normally really good at braiding her hair but for some reason her hands weren't doing what they were supposed to this morning.

"Dear god! Come here and watch the food whilst I braid your hair. Its just painful watching you do it." Sweet Pea commanded dragging her from her seat and shoving a spatula in her hand before standing behind her and effortlessly throwing her hair into a perfect French braid. Toni and Fangs tiptoed in at the perfect moment. Quickly getting a photo or ten of the pair before they noticed they had company. 

"So, he can cook AND he can plait. If only he was good looking." Ali sighed playfully placing a hand on Sweet Peas cheek once he'd finished doing her hair. 

"See you two are already up and about." Toni grumbled, smirking a little as she entered the kitchen grabbing a glass of suspicious green juice and one of the plates Sweet Pea had already dished up.

"Morning, painkillers are on the side and I think Pea has sorted your clothes out already." Ali greeted the two very hungover looking Serpents as they shuffled their way into the daylight. Hissing like vampires as the sunlight hit their eyes. 

"I'd suggest grabbing something to eat and jumping in the shower before you get dressed. You can use the on-suite in my room or the bathroom in the corner over there. Both showers work but mine has a small leak so be careful." 

"Morning guys." Rosie groaned rubbing her eyes while Izzy guided her mum to a chair, grabbing her a cure and plate of food.

"Here you go Izzy." Sweet Pea said warmly, helping the little girl up into a chair and shoving a plate of food and glass of juice in front of her before moving to grab his own and sitting beside Ali. 

"Jesus mum I thought you said you could handle your drink?" Ali stated giving her mum a once over tucking into a mouthful of eggs and bacon.

"Just because we don't have stomachs of steel like you two freaks of nature doesn't mean we can't handle our drink!" Rosie defended taking a large swig of her green hangover cure.

"You know for Northsiders you can really handle your drink." Sweet Pea confessed through a mouthful of food. 

"Dude, she drank you under the table! She's good even for a Southsider!" Fangs claimed, giving an impressed raise of the glass before gulping down the green liquid like it was his life force.

"Well guys as much as I'd love to stay and chat, I have to get to work. Izzy have you sorted out a lift to Pops later or shall I drop you off?" Ali asked turning to her little sister. She had recently started working at Pops on the weekends and during the holiday but fitting in her times with Rosie and Ali's schedules was proving to be difficult. She had been asking around for lifts, but they were few and far between.

"I'll take you if want Izzy. My bikes out front and I was going to stay and fix a few things before I left anyway." Sweet Pea offer ruffling the little girls bed head making Izzy laugh giving Ali the thumbs up.

"Buzzing! I'll pick you up at 6 ok Izzy, we'll pick up food from Pops tonight ok Mum? That way you don't have to worry about cooking dinner after work." Ali shouted back as she headed out the front door.

"Since when did you do nice things for people that didn't involve beating someone up or getting paid?" Fangs accused Sweet Pea walking round the Island to wash up the dishes.

"I do nice things all the time!" Sweet Pea retorted defensively, making Toni snort in derision.

"No, you don't!" She stated with a smirk. "Here Rosie we'll clean up while you two jump in the shower. It's the least we can do." Toni insisted, directing them out the kitchen once they'd finished eating. Rosie gave the trio a grateful smile before heading upstairs to get a change of clothes for her shower. 

"I'll use the one downstairs. If Ali's leaks any more I'm afraid it might flood." She told the group making her way up the creaky stairs.

Ali had just finished her lunch when she got a message from Jughead saying 'Reggie's bringing a car down for you and Betty to check out, I'll explain in sec.' Ali sighed thinking about her workload, at this rate she'd never be done in time to pick Izzy up.

"Looks like you could use a hand!" A familiar voice called from the open garage door. Ali spun round grinning when her eyes fell on her red headed bestie.

"Cheryl you have no idea how happy I am to see you right now!" Ali gushed running over, throwing her arms around the girl. Embracing her in a much-needed hug.

"Jughead text me saying he was about to overload you with work. So, me and Betty have come to help. I'll get started on the paint jobs whilst you and Betty finish up the trucks out back. Then we can all take a look under the hood of Reggies car." Cheryl directed grabbing a face mask and pair of goggles before sauntering over to the paint station of Ali's garage. Her uncle had given her his old storage space, saying she could use it for whatever if she helped out. 

It wasn't long before Betty and Jughead turned up to lend a hand. Soon joined by Reggie and the car Jughead would be using. Betty and Jughead popped the hood to take a look underneath whilst Ali finished up her last job of the day.

"Rumour has it Mantles car is a mirror image of him, sexy as hell but emptier than a packet of crisps!" Ali hollers bounding over, her forehead covered in sweat and engine grease. 

"Sorry I forget you guys call them chips or something weird like that. What's the damage anyway?" Ali corrected herself. Her English slang confusing her friends as usual.

"Nothing really, its just got nothing going on underneath!" Betty reviews wiping her hands on a dirty rag that was hanging from Ali's pocket.

"Well shit Jughead. Looks like you're going to have to play it the old-fashioned way. Floor it and play chicken. Malachi's stupid but he'll back down for sure, just make sure you show no fear. If he sees any weakness you've lost before you've begun." Ali divulged patting her friend on the back and making her way over to her bike. Throwing Betty the keys to the garage after pulling on her helmet. 

"Cheryl’s finishing off a paint job but she'll be with you shortly. Use what you need and lock up when you're done. I've got to go and pick Izzy up. See you bright and early tomorrow!" She called zooming off when Betty and Jughead gave her an acknowledging salute.

"She is literally the hottest girl ever!" Reggie drooled watching as Ali disappeared round the bend.

"Ugh stand down Reginald. She's way out of your league and last time I checked you and Josie were hitting it pretty hot and heavy at the party the other week." Cheryl groaned joining the group.

[tabletibbletobobble]

Throwing Shade

“Wait so you’ve never even read a comic book?” Snow pressed her interrogation more intensely than she mean to.

Erica shook her head. “No,” she said softly, her eyes darting around at the trees around them. Snow didn’t know what to make of her. She seemed nice and responsible at school, but never interested in most subjects. And never with any friends.

“Well,” Snow paused, trying to find some middle ground with the girl she had met earlier this year, and was now somehow mystically destined to save the world with. “Movies! You like movies, right?”

“I guess,” Erica said with the least enthusiasm Snow had ever heard. “There was a really great documentary on The Amazon Rainforest I found online.” Erica uncomfortably rubbed her neck. “That was pretty great.” Erica’s gaze wandered away once more, before she shook her head and looked back at Snow, who was sitting on a stump near the creek. She was swirling the water with a long narrow stick, watching the wake of the current as it was broken by her movement of the branch. “What about you?” Erica finally asked.

“What about me what?” Snow looked back at Erica, who at this point had maybe twelve leaves in her hand.

“What’s your favorite movie? Or comic book? Or flower?”

Snow didn’t think she had ever been asked her favorite flower before. Sure, she liked flowers and aromatics, but a favorite? Snow thought long about it. But her mind quickly wandered to the last three weeks. That fox with the missing leg and eyes like an eclipse. The beautiful woman made of starlight and shadow. The magic stone that sat waiting in her backpack. The cool energy that she could feel on her fingertips. It was like she was a superhero, and this was her origin story. Except she’s spent most of it waiting for something to happen. Snow’s eyes met Erica’s for a brief moment, as if they were both just thinking about the same thing. About how things had changed, what had happened over the last few weeks, and what was about to. “Chrysanthemums,” Snow finally said. “My moms have them all over the house, and they’re really neat looking.”

Erica smiled wide. “I have a ton of Chrysanthemums, but I’m running out of space in my room, and the kitchen, and the dining room.”

“You really have a lot of flowers, huh?” Snow chuckled.

“Not just flowers,” Erica interjected. Her eyes lit up as she went on. “Tons of herbs, like rosemary and dill, a few cacti, a spider plant, some small palms, an aloe vera, and even a venus flytrap!”

“Wait, really?” Snow’s eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah!” Erica put her handful of leaves in her backpack and zipped it up. “My dad went to South Carolina on a business trip and came back with it. They’re supposed to be in warmer climates than this, but I have a heat lamp, so it doesn’t get cold.” Snow smiled, it was nice to see this girl come out of her shell, even if it’s only about plants. “Did you know that flytraps are actually a misnomer. They actually eat more ants than anything, but they’ll eat whatever they can. Even frogs!”

“Are you serious?” Snow had only seen them on tv, but apparently left out a pretty awesome fact.

“Well, small frogs, but still.” Erica laughed. It might’ve been the first time Snow had seen Erica laugh. She was always so distant. Even when meeting Sahiress, the Guardian of Earth, she was skeptical of her intentions. Maybe she saw something Snow didn’t. But for now, Snow was content with fighting bad guys and saving the world, so how sinister could this Guardian be?

“Do you think I could watch you feed it sometime?” Snow said, both curious and excited at the thought.

Erica nodded. “Yeah, definitely! But it ate like a week ago, and it hasn’t opened back up yet. It takes a while for them to digest fully.”

Snow looked at her phone, was it already six o clock? “Well let me know when it gets hungry. I should probably be getting home for dinner. Don’t you?”

Erica shrugged. “Dad’s in meetings all day and Mom’s working on a case late, so they won’t be home for a while.”

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” Snow asked.

“Oh,” Erica paused. “You sure your family wouldn’t mind?”

“My moms are cool, and they always make way too much,” Snow smiled, as she pulled her backpack on. “Besides-“

Her thought was interrupted by a fox sitting on the grass staring at them, maybe twenty feet away. The creature’s coat was a pale pink, from a distance it might be mistaken for a soft orange or red dirt. She was missing her front left paw, but there wasn’t an obvious wound. Almost like it has been surgically amputated. The fox’s eyes were a shimmering black, with white, glowing irises that spiked on the outside like a solar eclipse.

“Hi!” the fox greeted excitably without moving it’s mouth. “Is this a bad time?”

“Is something wrong, Mera?” Erica asked, her face curled into a frown of concern.

“Sahiress sent me. One of the shards showed up!” Mera jumped up and paced as she explained, seemingly through some sort of telepathy. “Are you guys ready to go?”

Erica nodded.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” said Snow, as soft features formed a wall of determination.

“Alright,” Mera said with relief. “Right this way!” As the sound of her voice entered Snow’s mind, a blue flash of light reflected on Mera’s eyes and a column of blue energy formed from the direction Mera was looking. Not an unfamiliar sight for Snow and Erica.

The two ran into the portal.

The other side was quiet. It looked like they were on the outskirts of a city and surrounded by construction equipment, unoccupied trucks and cranes, and the metal beam skeleton of a large building. The air around them felt filthy, like dirt had been kicked up around the site all day, and everything had just been put to rest. The early stages of sunset were becoming visible, and the smell of the polluted air contrasted heavily with the fresh breeze of the small town they had just come from.

But where was that shard? The two glanced around hurriedly when they both heard the footsteps coming from above them. A dark figure walked across the constructed steel beams, silhouetted against the blue and orange sky. Her long black boots echoing against the steel with each step. Her dark eyes looked down at Snow and Erica as she scoffed in disgust.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to come,” she said, her voice sounded tired and emotionless.

“Dris!” Snow exclaimed, as she and Erica pulled their Essence Crystals from their backpacks.

“I grow tired of these childish games we play,” Dris explained, sighing. “My king wants the rest of the shards.” Dris jumped forward, her slender form doing a forward flip before landing on one knee.

Superhero landing, Snow thought to herself.

“I’ll find out where you’re hiding the others, even if I have to beat it out of you.” Dris stared at them with expressionless gray eyes. A white bellowing cape flowed from her shoulders, held by a golden clasp at her chest. Her top was as black with a white belt above a black skirt. Her white gloves nearly reached her elbows, and a rusty metal bracelet hung loose on her left wrist. The symbol of the King of Rust.

Snow gripped her pale blue Essence Crystal tightly, as she felt the familiar cold breeze swirl around her. A layer of frost began to grip itself to her, covering her legs, arms, then her torso. It grew thicker and more opaque, before finally shattering. The dust of crystalline ice suspended in air, shimmering like starlight around her. Snow’s outfit was no longer the skinny jeans and blue denim jacket she was wearing, but a long blue cloak covering a frost patterned dress and matching boots. Wisps of frosty mist licked her shoulders and hands as she took a defensive stance against this enemy. From where her crystal was in her hand, a long staff appeared, with a blue stone weaved into the design of the head.

She looked over to see a shower of pink and green petals burst off Erica as her outfit also transformed. Where there was once a pair of yellow overalls, there was a forest green blouse and skirt with matching gloves. The collar was a waterfall of pink and yellow petals, with a pink lace seemingly holding it all together. The bottom of her skirt looked like a garden in bloom, with pink and yellow petals lining the skirt. She was holding a large wooden club, artfully crafted with a mossy handle.

The two looked at Dris with a heart full of vigor. But Dris simply looked up at them and smirked.

“What are you smiling at?” Demanded Erica, as she readied her weapon for battle.

“Yeah, we kicked your butt last time we met,” Snow added.

“Perhaps,” Dris said flatly. “But last time, I was outnumbered.” Before Snow could think what that meant, she felt a blast of force take her off her feet. She looked up to see what looked like a bear, but made of a featureless black, shadow-like material. It roared at Snow, only to see it joined by a slightly smaller, wolf-like shadow monster. She looked over to see Erica, also surrounded. To her left was a squatter animal, more reptilian with a massive jaw. Either a crocodile or alligator. Behind her was what looked like a gorilla. The reptile snapped at Erica as she dodged a blow from gorilla.

Snow looked over at Dris. She had a jet-black hawk on her arm. With two heavy flaps of its wings, the bird took off. Snow could only guess it was looking for the shard. She dodged the bear as it took another swing with its massive claws. Instinctually, a burst of freezing air shot from her staff. The bear recoiled in pain, as the wolf tried to bite at her feet. Snow jumped back, tripping on her own feet. She landed bottom first with a painful thud. From between the monsters, she could see Erica having troubles of her own. The crocodile was wrapped in a thick layer of vines, growling in pain as the plants grew thorns, but the gorilla was too big and too fast. As Erica swung her weapon, the creature batted it away like a fly, putting Erica too on the defensive.

“This isn’t working!” Erica shouted over the roars and shrieks of the shadow creatures.

“No kidding,” Snow answered back. “We need a plan. Form up!” Without a word, Erica sidestepped the gorilla and joined Snow’s side. The three remaining creatures closed in on the two of them; the crocodile continued to gnash and growl as the vines barely held together.

A large wingspan spread above them as the hawk returned, clenched in its talons was a large silver-gray rock, shimmering in the remains of daylight. Its shape was similar to the other hedron shards they had recovered so far, this one slightly thinner. “We can’t let it get to Dris!” Snow yelled. “After it, I’ll keep these guys busy.” As the words left her lips, the crocodile broke free, snapping its massive jaws in their direction. Snow instantly regretted her plan. She concentrated hard, her eyes closed and blue light emanated from her palms. Five crystals of white ice appeared between her and the beasts. She could feel the brisk air coming from them as intense as a heat from a flame. Mist surrounded Snow as the crystals began spinning around Snow. She felt like an atom, as electrons circled her, gaining speed. She gripped her staff tight and took a step forward. The bear was the first to swipe, but spinning ice slammed into its claw. The bear recoiled. In turn each monster attacked and was rebuffed by the crystals and cold.

She could hear Dris’s cries above the whirling and roars. She could see the bird had fallen to the ground between Erica and Dris, the shard still in its claws. Erica and Dris’s eyes met for a brief moment before they both took off running, Erica gripping her weapon tight. Snow noticed a green light coming from the spaces between Erica’s hand and the club as Dris suddenly fell forward. She looked behind herself to see a small vine wrapped around her ankle. Dris yelled in frustration as a shiny black sword materialized in her hand, as she cut the vine in a single motion.

But it was too late. Erica held the shard triumphantly as Snow ran to cover her with her icy shield. “We’ve got it,” Erica whispered into her Essence Crystal. The shadow creatures and their master all charged at them as they were engulfed in a brilliant blue light.

“Next time you won’t be so-“ Dris’s threat was cut off by their transportation. When the light faded, they found themselves in front of a familiar cave, as a creature made entirely out of the night sky smiled at them warmly.

“Welcome back,” she said quietly.

[caprichans]

incandescent smiles

relationship: seo changbin + lee felix 

setting: convenience store, university/college au 

synopsis: wherein changbin has this habit of smiling at everyone, and felix happens to be a boy with smiles that could light up a thousand suns. 

words:  2402

a short note: i recommend listening to star blossom - doyoung and sejeong! it matches the short story, and it’ll be cute if you read it while listening to this song, promise!

The thing about Seo Changbin was that he always smiles, as in always smiles at the strangers he first sees. 

It's not like he's obliged to or anything, it's just become a rather appreciative habit of him to smile at people whenever they look at each other. Whether it'd be in the school hallways, the vending shops, or even during dinners with his family, Changbin always smiled when people looked at him. It's puzzling, really, when a man who pulls off a resting face can still manage to smile at people, and maybe even make their day. It made him conscious to the point where he vowed to never smile again for the rest of his life. He was a boy of thirteen at that time, young, and still full of fresh ideas. He remembered the time where he attempted to give his mom a foul look, one that screamed, "I don't smile anymore!" Yet, everything backfired when his mom teased him for acting like such a tough boy. Ever since then, Changbin has given up on trying to let go of his smiling habit. It's annoying sometimes, but he gets used to it by the day he grows older. It happened again during a trip to the convenience store. Changbin had just gotten off of college, denim jacket pulled to the black shirt that stuck to his skin, rimmed glasses perched on his bridge, and earphones stuck to his earbuds as he tried to search for inspiration to craft his final song. It was a part of his thesis, you see, to submit a solid, three-minute song, verses and all. Changbin's been told that he excelled well in this sort of field, and he had to admit, he was comfortable in this sort of project, so everything was a piece of cake for him. He had Chan and Jisung teaming up with him, anyway. They'd submit a perfect piece in no time. As he worked his way through the entrance, he sauntered through the aisles in search for some ramyun, and perhaps a few hotdogs for the bunch. He took into consideration the tendencies Chan has to overwork himself during the leeway hours of their submission, and he knew Jisung would kill for some shitty convenience store coffee. (Which, by the way, tasted pretty good for Changbin. What's not to like about French Vanilla coffee?) He did his deed nevertheless, and hummed over a few tunes before settling over to the hotdog stand to grab a hold of some steamy buns and some nice, steamed sausages. Then, just then, as he picked his first steamy bun, he saw him. It was very brief at first; the boy entered the convenience store in a set of headphones, eyes half-lidded and almost exhausted, and sweat that stuck from the sides of his neck and some strands of his golden blonde hair. He sauntered past a distracted Changbin at first, as he looked for some hopes of a steamed pork bun or some coffee. Luck was on his side, and clasped his hands in a small delight once he had found his desires. That's how Changbin found him now, perched up against the coffee machine as he squinted to read the hangul, almost mouthing the characters as if he were a kid in kindergarten. It made Changbin wonder at first, until he came to the conclusion that the boy was practically foreign. He could tell by how lost he seemed by the coffee machine, not knowing which buttons to press, and by how he cursed to himself in something that sounded like English. Changbin wouldn't know. He scored poorly on his English grades. He had Aussie Boy Chan to thank him for his English stock knowledge. Changbin hadn't realized that he was staring a little too long at the boy of wonders, that his stare seemed to pick up on the boy. As if time had suddenly stood still, the two made eye contact, connecting doe-like shiny eyes with low, slumped ones. Oh shit, Changbin panicked momentarily, you know what's coming. You definitely know what's coming and I suggest you look away now— He perked a smile at the boy. As expected of Seo Changbin, expert smiley guy at random strangers. God, he needs to control his habits sometimes. Unexpected of him, he sought the boy to be smiling back at him as well, showcasing an adorable set of freckles to dust his cheeks and his eyes to crinkle in crescents for a split second before meeting shy eyes with the coffee machine once more. The response left Changbin dumbfounded as he stood by the hotdog machine, holding a fresh, steamy hotdog on his hands. Huh, did not...expect that. Changbin's ears grew red. Never thought that the cute guy with freckles smiled at strangers too. He could feel his neck grow hot as well by just the replay of his smile on his head. Oh, Jeremy. Changbin's buffering. "Uh, hey." He spoke for the first time since he left his apartment, voice a little hoarse from much disuse as he peeked at the boy at the coffee machine. "Do you need help, um, over there?" You're doing great, Seo! Definitely not awkward. The boy shot his head up at his call, then blinked once, twice, before nodding in what almost seemed like desperation. "Yes, please. I'm sort of lost." Changbin noted the accent that filled his Korean, and needless to say, Changbin digs those accents, but you didn't hear that from him. He went over to his side instead, and began explaining what each flavor was, what each button meant, where each cup was placed. The boy tried to follow in an equal pace, and Changbin could almost hear calculating sounds running through the edge of the boy's mind as he went through the process slowly. "You can just place your cup here, and let the coffee machine do its magic. If I suggest, you should pick French Vanilla." He gestured to the button at the middle. "It's the only coffee that's less shitty in this convenience store, if you ask me."

The boy made a small ‘o’ with his mouth, and beamed at Changbin with gratitude within the look of his eyes. “Thank you! God, I thought I’d never get it. Pretty stupid, if you think about it, considering that this is just a coffee machine and I’m surrounded by a population of foreigners. I just had to do better.” He groaned, rolling his eyes upward and squeezing them shut for a while, probably to get the stress and strain off his eyes. Now that he mentioned it, Changbin noticed that he looked rather exhausted earlier. His bags weren’t hard to miss, and he noticed that it was past 8PM to be coming from the university. The boy probably had extra hours on something, though Changbin isn’t the one to prod on one’s personal affairs.

He nodded instead, giving one last small smile before patting his back pockets for nothing in particular. “No problem. I’ll just be on my way, then.” He tilted his head toward the hotdog stand, and awkwardly made his way to it once more, trying to ignore the way the boy’s eyes were still trained on Changbin. It took about three seconds for Changbin’s racing heart to subside, and by that time, the boy’s eyes were no longer fixed on him, but at the coffee machine that he now understood how to use it. He doesn’t know why his heart sudden escalated, but he hoped that it’s because of his small social anxiety rather than the fact that the boy was absolutely adorable with the way he talked, the way he smiled, the way he did everything in a span of ten minutes to make Changbin feel this way. He recalled a time within the night where the three of them were at their peak of insanity, and Jisung suddenly started talking about some alternate universe where people would puke flowers after developing a crush on that certain person. Changbin thought that was utter bullshit, but Chan was just as immersed as Jisung was.

“Thank God I’m not coughing out seeds, if such a disease were even real.” Changbin scoffed to himself, before shutting the hotdog stand and making his way toward the counter to pay for his food. His thoughts on the boy were grazed in the center of his mind as he purchased, all senses hovering to the small encounter that happened not too long ago. He couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about him, but how could he when his smile could literally light up a thousand suns from thousands of galaxies. Changbin knew he had to stop thinking about some stranger, but why wasn’t he stopping?

As if fate had decided to play a little more, he suddenly felt a thud and a splash of something, followed by a frustrated groan behind him. Changbin whipped his head towards his back, and found—oh, how lovely—the boy of his thoughts in a middle of his own crisis as the coffee dropped from his hands and into the floors. Flushed from embarrassment, the boy immediately apologized to the counter for making such a mess, and hurriedly scrambled to wipe his own mess with his clothes. Changbin saw the counter rush over to tell him that they’ll handle it, and speak some words of reassurance before they went over to handle Changbin’s items before going over to the spillage. He grabbed for the plastic bag, and almost decided to just let the boy handle his own mess and leave the store, only he didn’t. He stopped short in the entrance, and took one glance at the boy, who was currently slapping the back of his neck in hopes to help him wake up more. He furrowed his eyebrows, and hummed. The boy was close to tired, and clearly that coffee incident was a wake-up call for him. Maybe he should do something. Yeah, that’s right, maybe pay for his coffee, or even treat him to some coffee if his budget allows it.

“Hey,” Changbin went to the boy once again, and tapped him on the shoulder to grab his attention, “maybe I should treat you to coffee? You seemed out of it today, so I wanted to do something to gain myself good boy points. Well, how about it?”

The boy blinked once, twice, until he scoffed one of his adorable grins that was enough to send Changbin orbiting to outer space. “You’re an odd one. You trust strangers easily, or are you just that friendly?” He went over to the coffee machine once more, Changbin following closely with a roll of his eyes. “It’s not like you’re out to assassinate me, or rob the cash in this store. You’re too—“ He paused there, and froze at what he was just about to say that could most likely embarrass himself in front of the boy. The latter, on the other hand, raised a brow in amusement as he inched closer. “I’m too…what?”

Changbin sighed, slumping his shoulders and glancing elsewhere before looking back at the boy. “You’re too…” He made his voice tiny, almost inaudible for people other than the boy to hear, “nice for that. At least you seem nice, unless you do have a gun and you are here to assassinate me. Fuck, I’m doomed.”

The boy lit up at his response, eyes crinkling into those lovely crescent ones and his grin showcasing his teeth along with his laughter. It was near blinding, and good enough to set Changbin’s heart pumping once more as his stomach twisted at the sight. He knew that he wasn’t the one with such humor, but to know that a man could laugh at his remark, it was enough to make Changbin feel good about himself. He smiled automatically in response, albeit a little more bashful than his normal ones. The boy, on the other hand, gleamed at him. “You’re so funny! You’re literally making my day as we speak right now.” He gave him a paper cup from where Changbin had told him so earlier, and nodded. “Here, let me give you your good boy points. You deserve it for making me laugh today.” Changbin doesn’t miss the way his grin still stood in place, and neither did he miss the way his stomach twisted more and his heart thumped louder.

Perhaps he’s never been this gay before. Perhaps he should tell Chan and Jisung that he’ll be coming home a little later than usual.

“I’m Felix, by the way.” The boy outstretched his hand, his smile still on place, yet brighter for some reason. Felix, Changbin pondered, wondering if he should say it the way he said it, or how his peers would usually say it. Nevertheless, it was a decent name, and that was enough for Changbin. He took his outstretched hand, and gave an equal expression to the boy, now called Felix. “Changbin. It’s nice to meet you, I guess?”

Changbin wondered if Felix ever got tired of smiling, because from what it seems like that fifth or sixth time today—Changbin never took count—Felix smiled at him once more, followed by a fit of fond giggles that sounded on his throat. “You guess, huh? Well, it’s your turn to make the coffee, Mr. I-Guess Changbin.”

The man in statement scoffed a laugh, rolling his eyes at such a nickname given before proceeding to press the familiar buttons he had once taught Felix. It’s pretty amusing, he thought, that back in the day, his thirteen-year old dramatic self would frown all day long, believing that nothing good would ever come out of smiling. He’s twenty-years old now, already given up on that belief, and now exchanged with a new one that something good did come out of his smiling habits. The thought in itself was enough to make Changbin smile yet again, as he walked with the boy who had freckles for cheeks and smiles for a thousand suns. The boy, who apparently didn’t know how to work the coffee machine because he couldn’t read all the complicated hangul well yet. The boy, named Lee Felix, who made Changbin’s day by just smiling; Changbin sure wouldn’t have it any other way with his smiles either.

What can he say? Old habits die hard.