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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

Morning Routine (Jung Wooyoung) Rated

Part Two

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung × Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Fluff.

Summary: Seeing an advertisement online in need of a camera handler, Wooyoung jumps at the opportunity, not knowing his employer is a renowned camgirl.

Word Count: 4.3+K

Warnings: Exhibitionism, voyeurism, nude taping, masturbating in shower, breast play, a rather tamed smut

Taglist: @seacottons @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez @deja-vux @yunhofingers @little-precious-baby @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters

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"Wanted: Experienced photographer/Camera Operator for personal/private filming. If interested, please contact number below for more information or details. Students majoring in said field are welcomed to apply. 19+ only."

Seeing the advertisement, Wooyoung's eyes popped up. Usually most jobs wouldn't even allow people without a degree or years of experience. And it would be perfect practice that didn't include boring or basic projects his professor would often assign, not to mention a little extra money would come in handy.

Not thinking twice about it, he quickly dialed the phone number listed and waited patiently as it rang. It took a while, but eventually someone on the other side picked up.

"Hello?" He discerned that it was a young female's tone.

"Hi! I was calling about the advertisement for a camera man?" He inquired.

"Are you 19 or over?" She immediately asked for his age, which slightly confused him. But thinking about it, he kinda understood why she might want someone older. After all, teenagers weren't exactly reliable or responsible when it came to taking on a job. She probably wanted to avoid them dipping out on her randomly.

"I'm 21 and very serious in my work." He assured her, already making it clear his intentions to be committed to the job she was offering.

"Hmm...I take it you probably haven't had a lot of experience outside of college right?"

Wooyoung slightly gulped as she discerned correctly. But she did say students were welcomed to apply and he was fairly confident in his skills.

"N-no but I can assure you that I'll work hard and meet your expectations."

There was a deep and defeaning silence that had Wooyoung worrying. He could already feel her hesitation to hire him or give him a chance. He was so worked up on being rejected once more that the slight giggle that ensued after that pause momentarily confused him.

"I like your attitude and drive already. What did you say your name was?" She asked.

"Jung Wooyoung." He answered right away.

"Well Wooyoung, how soon can you start?"

His mood lightened up quite significantly at hearing her say those words.

"If you'd like, I can come over to the location you wish after I get done with my classes tomorrow." He offered.

"All right, just one thing....... do you think you'd be able to stay over at my place for a few nights?"

Although he thought it was a rather unusual request, he didn't put too much thought, especially since someone was offering him a chance to actually have some work.

"Um.. of course."

Unbeknownst to him, the woman on the other side had her lips curling up into a smirk.

"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you real soon Wooyoung."

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Checking the direction that was sent to him, Wooyoung looked at the corresponding number on the front door to make sure it was indeed where he needed to be. Adjusting the bag that was hanging by his shoulders, he slowly walked up to the vintage style house and rang the doorbell. Hearing the soft patter of footsteps coming from inside, Wooyoung mentally prepared himself to see a middle aged lady carrying a Siamese cat as soon as the door opened. But he was not prepared by the sight awaiting him. Indeed there was a cat in the arms of the figure in front of him, although it was a Persian cat and not a Siamese, but that wasn't the most surprising factor. What shocked him was to see a very young woman near his age be the one holding the cat in her arms, her face illuminated by the warm smile she was donning.

"You must be Wooyoung. I'm Y/N." She extended her hand out towards him, prompting the feline in her grasp to shuffle around and climb part of its body on her shoulder. Judging by the slight crinkle of her nose, Wooyoung guessed the cat probably clung its claws into their master's skin.

"Yes I am. It's a pleasure to meet you. I promise you won't regret hiring me." Taking hold of her hand, he gave it a firm shake while his face radiated the most reassuring smile he could make.

"Oh trust me, I don't think I'm going to." Her lips formed a rather curious smirk that slightly baffled him.

She gestured for him to step inside, which he immediately did as he tried to ignore the slight hissing the Persian cat gave him when his shoulder barely made contact against its swaying tail.

"Baby stop. He's going to be around for a while so be on your best behavior." She chastised her cat as she closed the door.

Y/N let out a soft 'hmph' when the cat suddenly jumped out of her arms and ran over to where Wooyoung was standing. He got stiff and held his breath when the cat pressed her nose on his leg and began sniffing him. Pulling back, she licked her lips and then scurried off somewhere in the other part of the house.

"Well we know for sure she doesn't dislike you." Y/N chuckled slightly.

"But I take it she doesn't like me?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow.

"She's a cat, it'll take time for her to get used to you, that's all."

Shrugging softly, Y/N walked over to the kitchen and started taking out a few cups and saucers from the cupboard.

"I was brewing tea before you got here, would you like to share a cup with me?" Removing it from the stove top, she held up the elegant teapot to him after she finished her question.

"Oh, thank you." He gladly accepted her gesture.

Noticing him standing there awkwardly, Y/N pointed to one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen island.

"Wooyoung don't be too tense and just make yourself comfortable. After all, you're going to be staying with me for a few days."

Her words reminded him about that particular part of the job, that still felt odd to him and he was very curious to find out why she needed him to stay over with her.

"So.... can I ask what exactly is this project you're hiring me for that requires me to stay here?" He asked as he pulled a chair forward so he could sit on it.

"Oh yes, I thought you'd probably ask me about that since it is rather unusual."

She paused briefly so she could properly pour the tea into the cups, the rich aroma filling the atmosphere with its notes of chamomile and lemon. After sliding a cup over to him, she turned behind her to grab a tray that contained sugar cubes, honey, steamed milk and a few lemon wedges, all in different saucers or dishes that matched the tea set that they were currently drinking in. The cute floral design amused Wooyoung slightly. He could tell Y/N seemed to have a thing for classy and vintage style aesthetic, her house and the things inside was a major clue to it.

Pouring a tiny teaspoon of honey and some milk in her tea, Y/N carefully stirred them in the cup before finally answering the question Wooyoung had been pondering over.

"Well to make a long story short, I wish to film an everyday vlog for my....channel." Lifting the cup to her face, she gently blew on it before taking small sips out of it.

"Channel? Like for YouTube or like that?" Wooyoung himself started drinking his own cup of tea, preferring not to add anything to it since he liked straight tea as it was.

"Yeah something like that. But basically, I wanted to show my viewers how I live and what not. Show them what I do inside my home that they hadn't seen before. For example, I wanted you to stay over because I wanted to film my morning routine. I want to capture every move I make from the moment I wake up to when I get ready to start my day. Am I making sense?" She worried she was probably confusing Wooyoung even further, but he was actually not. It had become a popular trend this day to document a person's morning routine for people to see.

"Yes you are, no worries. Now I understand why you needed me to stay over." The smile he had was half covered by the cup that was brought back over to his lips.

"I mean if you're uncomfortable by it or would rather not, I completely understand."

Wooyoung quickly dismissed her worries, shaking his head as he cleared his throat.

"Trust me, I'm not uncomfortable and I'd love to help you in your project. It'll help me out as well, you know, gain experience and have someone to put as a reference if I ever want to get another job."

Y/N giggled softly at that and nodded.

"Ahh yes. I guess if you look at it from that angle, of course you would accept."

They spent a few minutes in a serene and tranquil silence, the only noises heard was the sipping of their lips against the rim of their cups. Wooyoung tried not to notice the way Y/N would occasionally stare intently to him, a slightly curious grin on her face at times. It wasn't that it made him uncomfortable, but it certainly made him self conscious, especially since he put a lot of effort into looking as presentable as possible. Did she perhaps thought it was too much? Or not enough? Or was it because she thought he looked funny? Whatever it was he got no chance to ask about it since he only opened his mouth to let out a sharp yell when he felt a certain feline's claws tangled themselves on his thigh, the sharpness of her claws even sinking into his skin.

"Baby!" Y/N got up from her seat and quickly removed the paws of her cat off her guest. She looked extremely embarrased as she apologized profusely before shooing the cat off to another room.

"I'm sorry. She tends to get a bit aggressive when trying to play. She didn't hurt you too much right?"

Dropping down on her knees in front of him, Y/N gently examined the damage done: a slight tear in his jeans but no visible signs of a deep scratch or anything.

"N-no it's fine, I'm fine." Wooyoung uttered.

He tried so hard not to blush at the position she was currently in. On her knees, between his legs as one of her hands caressed the attacked spot in an effort to soothe the pain. Wooyoung wanted to smack himself right then and there for the dirty picture his brain had imagined about the semi stranger in front of him, and his cheeks started to produce a pink hue when his body involuntarily started making a visible effect of his reaction to her stance by him in between his legs. He gulped as he realized she would be able to see the bulge that was starting to show.

"If you want, I could mend your pants for you-"

"No that's fine don't worry!" Wooyoung stood up from his seat and inconspicuously hid his tiny problem by pulling his sweatshirt further down as he moved away from Y/N.

"I mean, these pants were old. I was going to throw them out anyway." He tried as much as he could to seem as normal as possible, but judging from the look on her face he was probably not doing a good job. Luckily she seemed to not question his behavior and instead decided to start cleaning up the dishes that they used.

"Here let me help you with that." Wooyoung offered, trying to take some of the china off her hands but Y/N pulled her hands back so he wouldn't touch them.

"It's ok, don't worry about it. You're my guest and I'm very particular about the way to clean my silverware and dining sets. Nothing against you, I'm just.... slightly obsessive compulsive." She remarked in the most cheerful tone one could have while giving him a shy smile.

"Umm ok..." Wooyoung scratched the back of his head.

"If you want, why don't you bring the rest of your stuff so I can show you where you're staying?" Y/N suggested.

"Yeah. Sure."

Wasting no time and thinking keeping his mind occupied could help cool him down, Wooyoung picked up his keys and nearly sprinted out the door. Y/N hummed a soft tune to herself as she ran the cups under the lukewarm water. Her eyes were staring out her window, watching as her guest was head deep in the back of his car's trunk. She giggled softly as she remembered the flustered look on his face just a few minutes ago, tongue poking out at the image of his crotch outlined in those tight jeans of his. She looked down when she felt a soft face nuzzling itself against her ankle, soft purring coming out of her cat's throat before letting out a meowing noise. Bending down, Y/N gently scratched under Baby's chin as she liked.

"Yes I think he is absolutely adorable as well Baby.."

Picking her up, Y/N kissed the top of her head and smirked.

"And I'm going to have lots of fun with him."

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"Ok you ready?"

Looking over at the girl still in her bed, Wooyoung got a thumbs up to let him know she was indeed ready. Turning on his camera, he held up his hand and started putting one finger down at a time to count down the starting time. Hearing the slight beep of the camera go off, Y/N immediately plastered on a commercial worthy smile.

"Hello my darlings. As I promised you guys, I'm going to take you guys through my morning routine step by step. I hope you all enjoy it." She finished off her words with a wink before tearing off the blanket off her body.

Wooyoung had to give it to her, she definitely didn't seem to be camera shy nor awkward in front of the lens. He liked that she had confidence. Then he remembered that she had a channel of some sorts and that was probably the reason why. He stepped back a few steps to fully capture her as she neatly tucked her covers under her mattress, impressively folding the corners of her bed like they did in 5 star hotels. Smoothing out the top before patting it down, she looked at the camera once more.

"As you already know, I like to make sure everything looks absolutely pretty for you guys." Her voice dropped slightly in tone as she said those words.

Getting up from the floor, she pointed over to her still sleeping cat that was perched on its bed by her window. Wooyoung made sure to angle the camera towards her, zooming in slightly.

"She won't wake up for another hour or so....perfect amount of time to get all clean and dolled up."

Beckoning him over, Wooyoung carefully followed her inside her adjoined bathroom, keeping a steady hand as he made sure to capture everything inside. From the long vanity with its mirror to the walk in shower with its clear glass lining, all of it looking spotless and shiny. Clapping her hands together, Y/N beamed with enthusiasm.

"And of course, the first thing I do each morning is wash up."

When he heard that, Wooyoung thought she meant like her skincare routine as he had noticed her cleansers and toners perfectly lined up next to the faucet sink. But he was not prepared to suddenly be hit with the image of her bare chest in front of him when she suddenly pulled her black satin tank top off and let it drop to the floor, his own jaw going slightly agape. As if he couldn't get anymore flustered, he nearly wheezed when she turned around and bent over to slide her matching pajama shorts down her smooth legs, her ass staring him right in the face. It took everything in Wooyoung's strength not to drop the camera when Y/N stood back up and turned around so that her completely nude body would be in the frame. She giggled as she took notice of Wooyoung's beet red face, further teasing him as she kicked her discarded lace panties by his feet, the poor boy swallowing hard as one of his hands shook nervously.

"Eyes up here baby." He immediately looked up from the ground when he heard her sweet and sultry voice.

Walking over to him, Y/N snaked one of her hands to grab at one of his belt loops so he could follow her. Opening the large glass door to the shower, Y/N released his belt loop and made a sign for him to stay there and keep the camera towards her. Stepping inside the enclosed space, she twisted the knob on the tile wall enough so that the shower head above her would start pouring out the refreshing and cool water onto her body. She released a soft moan when she felt it splash onto her, hands gliding down her torso and thighs as her eyes closed and reveled in the tingling and cooling feeling of the water dripping down on her.

Wooyoung stood there completely speechless and flabbergasted, his eyes unable to blink the longer he stared at the scene before him. It felt completely wrong to be there, to watch and film as this girl he just met the day before stand naked in front of him and continue her shower routine as if he wasn't even there. He just couldn't believe it, couldn't believe what he had gotten himself in to when he called and accepted to work for her. But he still accepted and he had a job to complete so he tried his best to look as composed as possible as he kept the camera pointed at her.

And yet more often than not he found himself biting down on his lip hard, trying to suppress the groans threatening to spill out as he continued to watch her as she did the most normal things a person often did while they took a shower. The camera captured every minute starting from when she lathered her head with her shampoo, its scent of coconut and hibiscus filling the entire room with fragrance that further made the tight feeling in Wooyoung's pants ache even more. His eyes were exclusively locked on her body, watching as the water cascaded down her soft skin, focusing especially on her breasts. He licked his lips as he took in the way her nipples peaked out due to the temperature of the water, wanting nothing more than to take one of them in his mouth and suck on it. The fact that Y/N would purposefully bring her hands up at times to cup or rub against her fleshy mounds wasn't helping his case, it only made him more sad that it wasn't his own hands touching and caressing her breasts. He was willing to bet they were probably the most soft and squishy pillow like tits to exist.

Wooyoung was really aching when she poured some of the pomegranate scented body wash into her sponge and began to distribute it around her body, starting from her arms and working them down her legs and between her thighs. He didn't mean to but he couldn't help himself as he fantasized about being him the one who was lathering her body, imagining all the things he'd do if he could. Like perhaps teasing her by grazing his fingers across her wet folds or even pressing his thumb down on her sensitive clit. Either way, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her if he got the chance, but he doubted that would ever happen. So he decided to take what he could of the moment and perhaps use it for fap material when he was alone.

As if knowing exactly what he was thinking about, Y/N turned her body to fully face him and smirked. Sliding her hands up her torso, she took hold of her breasts and gave them a tight squeeze before releasing them. Wooyoung could not help the audible whine that spilled out from his tongue as he saw her repeat the same action a couple more times. Pressing her boobs together, her thumbs played with the hardened nipples, tweaking at them and even giving them slight pinches every now and then. Wooyoung knew she was doing it on purpose, trying to arouse him even further....and it was working perfectly.

With one hand kept on one of her breasts, the other one snaked its way in between her luscious thighs. Dipping one finger inside her entrance, her lips parted and began spilling out breathy moans as she started to slide her finger in and out of her body.

"Oh fuck..." Wooyoung muttered, not caring about if his words got recorded or not. He became too invested in watching as Y/N continued fingering herself in front of him. She looked absolutely exquisite, body drenched in the rippling water as she continued to stuff her pussy with another one of her fingers. Her eyes shut tightly and her head tilted back as she let out even louder whimpers when she began scissoring inside her fleshy core. Her hand that was on her breasts pulled away to twist the showerhead knob so the pressure of the water could be at its lowest setting. Without the intense sound of the splashing water, her strangled noises became more audible as well as the slopping and squealching sounds her dripping pussy was making due to the intensity of her rapid finger movements. Wooyoung could clearly see and hear that the sounds were definition not due to the shower she was taking. Y/N was definitely horny and the slick her heat collected was clear evidence of it.

Having someone as hot as Wooyoung not only watching but helping her film something that thousands of other people would see, and more likely than not jerk off to, made her weak. She loved having people watch her do naughty things as she was doing now, it thrilled her and riled her up even more. And she loved seeing the effects it had on others, like the obvious bulge in between Wooyoung's thick thighs. She could practically make out just how big he was given how painfully hard his erection seemed, and that image served to help push her over the edge. With high pitched whines and cries, she shuddered as she felt herself cum all over her hand, her fingers slowing their movements down to help prolong her orgasm without making her become overly sensitive. She panted heavily as she took out her fingers and brought them up to her lips so she could lick off the secretion left from her climax.

Wooyoung's tongue poked out as he witnessed the pornographic image of Y/N drinking up her juices as if it was a delicious and sweet dessert.

"It probably is and it only makes me crave to have her smother my face with her pussy even more." He mused inwardly to himself.

He was so lost in his fantasy that he didn't notice Y/N had completely turned off the water and finished until her breasts were displayed right in front of the camera lens. He let out a soft stutter when her hand came up and pressed the pause button, being careful not to drop any water onto the camera.

"I'm going to finish drying myself off in my room so you can have some .....alone time." She snorted softly as she passed by him, her hand brushing against his crotch which made Wooyoung hiss softly.

Grabbing the towel that was hanging on the wall, Y/N wrapped it around her body, tucking it in so it wouldn't fall down. Stooping over, she picked up her lace panties and looked back at Wooyoung.

"Here, in case you need a little help." She flung it over to him, which he catches in his free hand.

Wooyoung stared at the underwear and then at Y/N with a dumbfounded expression.

"So I take it this is why you specifically wanted 19 plus people?" He quirked an eyebrow up, one corner of his lips pulling up into a knowing smile.

"Yes. I might as well mention now that I'm a camgirl with a porn channel." She explained.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out when you flashed your boobs at me."

They both bursted out laughing at his little joke.

"Ok but seriously, are you sure you're comfortable with all this?" Y/N asked.

Wooyoung looked down at her before looking back down at the panties in his hand.

"I'm definitely going to be hard most of the time, but I think I'll be fine." He assured her with a mischievous smile as he set down his camera on the vanity dresser. With a sly smirk, he began unzipping his pants, not missing any of the facial reactions she was making as he began to pull his cock out of its confinement.

"I mean, I got up close fap material with an actual pornstar. What guy wouldn't want my job?" Cocking his head to the side, he rubbed the tip of his dick with his thumb, spreading some of the precum down the shaft. Although she had said she would give him alone time, Y/N couldn't move her feet out the door as she stared intently at the way Wooyoung hugged his length.

"Wanna watch me jerk off with your panties to your image?"

Stepping forward, Wooyoung reached up and pulled the towel off Y/N's body, causing her to inhale sharply at his bold move. Sucking in a breath, Wooyoung shamelessly looked down at her body as he placed the hand that had Y/N's panties around the base of his cock.

"Just stay there and don't move beautiful...."

542 notes · View notes

starglow-xx · 3 years

Note

(About the brother!atsushi) aRE YOU READING MY MIND MISS?! Because that has been on my mind for MONTHS. TYSM For writing it was amazing!! If you don't mind, may I request (if requests are open) atsushi, still an older brother, but with a sister that's 10-13 yrs old? It's totally fine if you don't wanna do it. Keep up the good stories, ily mwuah!

*sobs* you’re so kind thank youu 🤧🤧

i wrote this a bit differently i hope that’s okay anon! at first i planned for this to be mainly abt atsushi and the reader, but i decided to add in relationship hcs with the agency bc i ran out of ideas

if you guys liked this don’t worry! im planning a special part two for this one so be the look out for it hehe

atsushi with a tween! sister

ft. the armed detective agency

like in my baby sister hcs, you’re still the most important thing to him period

the two of you got picked up by dazai and kunikida when he was 18 (obviously) and when you were 12

for a 12 year old, you were a bit small bc of malnourishment (which makes atsushi feel so bad) so both dazai and kunikida thought you were a bit younger than you actually were

they assumed you were about 9-10ish

you and atsushi both share a favorite food !! chazuke :)

so when kunikida treated the two of you, he made sure you got more bowls bc like i mentioned above, he feels really bad that you were malnourished and under weight

(don’t bring this up but kunikida felt bad too hehe)

when dazai went with your brother to the warehouse, you were with kunikida

imagine the surprise of the other ada members when kunikida came in with a little girl dressed in rags that popped out from behind him

kenji was the one who vocalized his thoughts

“kunikida-san you have a daughter?! wow! i didn’t know that! :D”

when you found out your brother was a tiger, you were a bit concerned but you were actually kind of excited

you were even more excited when you found out the two of you were going to be taken in by the agency

anything was better than the stupid orphanage

and besides!

you got a tiger for an older brother and a bunch of other super powered agents to take care of you! who could want anything else?

at your age, you’re very impressionable and can be influenced easily so atsushi makes sure to teach you more in depth of good morals and the importance of kindness

his heart swells with pride and relief when he catches you being kind to others

pride bc he’s proud that even after all the two of you have gone through, you still ended up being a good kid and having a bright view of the world

and relief bc he hasn’t failed as a big brother

pfftt like he could ever fail

but please, from time to time reassure him that he’s perfect and the only big brother that you’d ever want bc he rlly needs that kind of validation

with his salary and savings, he tries to buy nice things for you

what a sweetheart 🥺

he saw you eyeing that one dress at a store window? fast forward abt a week and half and it’s inside a pretty gift bag for you

you wanted to try that dessert from the nice bakery? that’s dessert after dinner at one point

but other than buying you things, he sets money aside for you

like all the time

(y/n), here have this, you might need it”

“but nii-san you just gave me—”

“take it”

#1 spoiler

also your #1 confidant and source of physical affection

you tell him anything and everything (except crushies and those kinds of things)

atsushi loves it when you talk abt your day and he can see the big smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes

it gives him the strength to keep going 😖😖

the two of you aren’t as touch starved as you’d probably think, but that’s only bc the two of you had each other

in your opinion, no one can match the hugs of your big brother

and it got even better bc YAYY he has tiger arms now ٩(◕‿◕)۶

if you ask, he’d carry you around too hehe

you also get nightmares quite often so he’ll always be there ready to calm you down, talk if you need to, and rock you back to sleep

god i love him 🤧🤧

atsushi will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you get to grow up happy, supported, and loved

port mafia attack? oop he’s already taking you to the nearest escape route

someone is starting to harass you? they just got suckered punched into the next week

you want to go out to have some fun? he’ll go ask the president for a day off

you’re not feeling well? he’ll take another day off and take care of you

whatever you want to do, he’ll do it with you! (as long as it’s within reason)

will always be your #1 supporter! and he’s the president of your fan club hehe

he loves you so so much and will do anything for you; your life and happiness will always be more important to him

you are his reason to keep going

agency head canons !!

atsushi is your big brother, but kunikida is most definitely some sort of father figure

everyone can see it

except kunikida of course

kunikida scolds you lightly if he thinks your manners need work or if you make a mess in the agency

you listen to him of course and in turn as some sort of a reward, he’ll give you pieces of stationary

he always gives you the nice, good quality kind and you’re over the moon

atsushi adores it when you come running to him showing your new notebook or fountain pen and blabbering what you’re going to do with it

sometimes it isn’t even as a reward for being a good child; he’ll just give it to you and he’ll say smth like “i noticed you’ve used up your last notebook quite quickly, so here’s another one” or “did you run out of ink? here have this then”

he usually has a soft spot for children in general, but he most definitely has a soft spot (or a thousand) for you

yosano is kind of like a motherly figure to you

she gives you the guidance a mother should and goes on shopping trips with you!

atsushi always gets dragged along by you, but he thinks it’s worth it seeing you look so happy

yosano being a doctor also tries to teach the things you should know, or things that would be helpful to you

she’ll teach you the basics of cooking, sewing, how to treat a cold/fever, etc

also gives you excellent advice 1000% of the time

“remember (y/n)-chan if someone hurts you come tell me and then i’ll chop them into—”

“yOSANO-SENSEI DONT TELL HER THAT—”

fukuzawa is like a father to most in the agency but you see him more as a grandfather figure

bi weekly tea and gossip sessions hehe

along with cat talk!

most of the time though, it’s just you talking and him listening to you, but the two of you enjoy it nonetheless

“and then kunikida-san ended up crashing into a pole and dazai-san started to laugh at him and i did too because it was really funny but we ended up getting scolded—”

“hmm i see...”

he’ll let you stay in his office as he fills out paperwork; you’re usually doodling or drawing in your notebooks

sometimes he’ll meditate and you’ll join him, but 4/7 times you’d fall asleep

you always wake up with a blanket over you

dazai is like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

frequently takes you out with him when he ditches work

walks in the park, eating at uzumaki so he has the excuse of treating you so he doesn’t have to pay his tab avoiding kunikida and sometimes chuuya and akutagawa, all that fun stuff

also tries to not talk abt suicide in front of you especially if it’s just the two of you alone

he knows that you mean the world to his pupil and that said pupil would probably hate him for putting suicide inside your brain

he teaches you random but useful things like how to pick a lock, how to steal kunikida’s notebook if you’re looking for some information, how to sweet talk your way out of things, etc.

is also the one to tell you that if you ever get a significant other to introduce them to the agency first

he always wants all of your gossip; some of them work pretty well for blackmail

“dazai-san! dazai-san! did you know that kunikida-san lost his glasses and he was looking for them for nearly an hour when he was just holding them the entire time??”

“woah really (y/n)-chan?! hey hey can you say it again into this recording device so kunikida-kun would believe me when i tell him—”

always ends up giving kunikida a heart attack when he says that you’ve been with him all day

ranpo is also like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

will share some of his snacks, but don’t push it or you might not get anything at all

loves it when you compliment him

if you tagged along with him and your brother on a case, he will show off to impress you

“...and that’s how the crime happened”

“UWAHH RANPO-SAN YOU’RE SO COOL”

atsushi is lowkey and kunikida is highkey stressed that ranpo’s eating habits will rub off on you

“ne (y/n)-chan do you wanna try this highly caffeinated drink and this concerning amount of sugar filled snack?”

“can i really?!”

“rANPO-SAN NO—”

ranpo definitely does stuff like that on purpose

the tanizakis are like siblings to you!

a weird set of siblings but siblings nonetheless

the two of them adore you and think you’re precious

atsushi definitely knows how to do your hair whether it’s long or short but he got even better at it when he asked the two

hehe braid trains are definitely a thing + kyouka and kenji (and maybe even dazai)

sometimes you have sibling swap days

you’re with junichiro for most of the day and atsushi is with naomi

strange i know

each of the tanizaki siblings try to make it fun bc they know that the two of you did not at all have a happy upbringing

junichiro likes spending time with you by taking you out to different places that naomi likes to frequent

like the mall, different stores and restaurants, the park, places like those

naomi does the same thing with atsushi so if you ever bump into them, you go out and eat together :)

besides atsushi, the next one in line who spoils you the most would be junichiro (and yosano & kunikida both coming in at a close third)

he honestly can’t help it; you remind him of how naomi was when she was younger

and besides

he’s always been a sucker when it came to the happiness of a little sister

“would you really buy this for me junichiro-san?!”

“of course! don’t worry about it” :)

wanna talk abt boys/girls/celebrity crushes things like that? naomi is your girl

you feel a bit embarrassed to go talking to yosano or your brother abt that and kyouka does not know a thing abt them either

“uwahh naomi-san look at all these people in this magazine! they look so good!”

“right?! but of course onii-sama is still the best—”

you get along with kenji and kyouka quite nicely being roughly the same age as them; they’re also like siblings!

just pure, wholesome vibes from the three of you

you’re over the moon when she finds out that kyouka is staying with you and your brother

atsushi is twice as happy seeing you talk your mouth off and finally having a girl around your age to talk to

“do you think demon snow can change how she looks?”

“hmm... im not sure...”

you and kenji talk abt anything and everything

he even teaches you how to take care of plants!

sometimes the two of you are kind of in the same boat bc you don’t know much abt yokohoma being stuck in the orphanage and kenji doesn’t know much abt cities in general

“wait where are we again kenji-san?”

“ah we’re close to the ports! but im not really sure how close because i don’t know what the symbols on this sign mean”

“don’t worry! neither do i!”

bonus things!

yosano was kind of too late teaching you abt you know what

“NII-SAN IM BLEEDING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS”

you’re sobbing in the agency’s bathroom and atsushi is panicking trying to get you to open the door

“Y/N?! H-HOLD ON LET ME GET YOSANO SENSEI”

ranpo overhears and cackles making everyone around him confused

suddenly atsushi bursts in the agency basically on the verge of tears rambling incoherent sentences abt the bathroom, you, and blood

it just clicked for everybody in the room

(im going to pretend that kenji has sisters back home so that atsushi is the only one who remain oblivious here hehe)

atsushi is genuinely confused and sort of concerned that no one is freaking out with him

yosano waves her hand saying smth like that she’d take care of it and junichiro pulls atsushi to the side to talk to him

fast forward like half and hour and dazai and ranpo are cackling on the looks of both of your faces

honestly not sure who’s more traumatized, you or your brother

“why does this have to happen” :(

“ne ne (y/n)-chan!~ you’re too young but at some point you’re not going to have it!”

“uwahh really dazai-san?” :D

“yeah! but first you have to have ANFK—”

next thing you know your ears are being covered by your brother and dazai is thrown across the room by kunikida

you know

the normal

you’re twelve and have never gone to school, but the agency takes care of that

it’s too dangerous to go to school so they teach you what’s necessary and whatever else they can

kunikida takes care of math (obviously)

yosano takes care of science/biology/anatomy/health (whatever you wanna call it)

ranpo even dragged poe to help you with english

atsushi even got lucy to help you out with english too!

as tanizaki and naomi used to be students, they give you their old work books and they try to teach you all the other subjects

sometimes kyouka and kenji are there learing with you too!

sorry if there’s some errors! i’ll read through it again later :)

and as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

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donnabenevientosimpingzone · 3 years

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Angie Headcannons (cuz we don’t have enough for our chaos gremlin child)

- She’s not exactly an entire different persona of Donna- she has her own consciousness and personality and thoughts but just has places that Donna needs to “fill in”.

- She and Donna have a very strong mental link so they can communicate telepathically, to the point they can cause physical damage if taken too far (it never happens though).

- Angie does have a limit to her energy, although it’s very hard to reach. Even Daniela has a hard time keeping up- when Angie reaches the limit she’ll sleep soundly... for once.

- Other times she sleeps as if she’s running from Alcina- the doll moves A LOT in her sleep and will kick and punch. She sometimes sleep talks, but never sleep walks.

- Angie cares deeply for Donna. No matter the extent of feral, the doll will always make sure Donna is okay with it. She can even tell when Donna is lying.

- Smug as shit and teases Donna often.

- Curses very often in English, but rarely in Italian. When she does, you better run. Probably knows all the curse words in different languages too although very bad at pronouncing then.

- Favourite games include tag, dodge-vase, climbing Alcina, and pissing off Karl.

- Bullies Moreau pretty mildly compared to how she’ll bully others. She’ll call Alcina “bitch” but the farthest she’ll go with fish man is “ugly”.

- Doesn’t like Mother Miranda because she tries to shut her up all the time.

- Best friends with Daniela! She can hang with Cassandra too depending on the sister’s mood/the day. Sometimes she’ll try and coax Bela to be chaotic (and she wins but not without a scolding from the sister later about how her mother would be disappointed and how it’s all the dolls fault and-).

- Only Donna can control Angie, but not forcefully. Angie just loves and respects Donna that much.

- Her biggest fear is being alone and/or losing Donna.

- She has retractable claws and fangs- has bitten countless amount of ankles.

- Craaaaaaaaaves attention.

- Must have a daily morning tea party. It’s a must.

- Although the most sentient of all of the doll’s, Angie has some control over her friends. Not as much as Donna, but it’s enough to order a game of hide and seek.

- Some dolls have so little Cadou that even Angie can bend them to her will.

- Can consume light amounts of food- the parasite inside her use it as bonus sustenance. She has taste too! But it’s very weak compared to humans- you gotta dump gallons of sugar into a cookie for her to taste it as sweet as we do.

- Pretty water resistant! Has dunked into the waterfall multiple times without visible damage.

- But Donna has to repair her often anyways.

- Has massive respect for nature ironically. She will set fire to a building but never to a forest.

- Wall-e esk- will show Donna random things she’s discovered; coins, branches, dead animals- you name it.

- A hoarder. She’ll stash endless amounts of “junk” in the manor.

- Master at comebacks, must have the last word in everything, has no problem insulting you while complimenting you too.

- Love language is screaming. Have a screaming contest with her and it’s the ultimate display of affection.

- Can be calm and wholesome for Donna, she is her only family after all.

- Although she often wears her wedding dress, has endless amounts of clothes that Donna makes her. Likes to play dress up too, whether with Donna or her other dolls.

- She’s actually quite self conscious about her opening face and the Cadou inside.

- Has a nickname for everyone.

- Although she’ll carry out Donna’s forceful demands without question, Donna taking over her entirely for clarification, she actually has no memory of them occurring afterwards.

- Has a surprisingly good memory otherwise.

- Actually knows how to read and write, and her writing is actually legible, barely legible but still legible.

- Looooooooves praise. She’ll actively search for it- even go as far as to make tea for Donna to drink when she wakes up/comes out of the workshop.

- Donna has yeeted Angie to claw at a Lycan’s face growling like a feral raccoon before.

- Loves colouring but hates drawing, Donna will do lineart for her sometimes.

- Knows how to sew! Will patch up her friends if a game rips apart their outfit.

- Although feral beyond belief, Angie does have a softer side... she just is a bit tsun and kuu about it.

- Totally a yandere

- She and Donna have matching outfits cuz Angie will ask for a replica of Donna’s clothes for herself

Feel free to add on!<3

#resident evil #resident evil village #angie the doll #donna beneviento #headcannons

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twst-bs · 3 years

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TWST Dorm Leaders and an Anxious MC

This is the first piece of written specifically for this blog!

-----

Riddle: Had they broken a rule?

Even if Riddle had improved by leaps and bounds in the anger management department, he still held his rules in high regard. And the way his brows furrowed when he looked at them from across the table, was he angry about something? He couldn’t exactly punish them - they had no magic to lock away, and they were a dorm leader in their own right, so he didn’t have any right to discipline them, but what if they had done something on a personal level? Offended him in some way? They had barely mastered social cues in their own world, what if they messed up in Twisted Wonderland? What if -

...Riddle had said something, and was clearly waiting for a reply. In their internal panic, they had missed whatever it was.

“I-I’m sorry, Riddle, I was kind of zoning out. What did you say?” Were there rules against zoning out? Probably, that seemed like something that would annoy him.

“I asked if you were alright.”

“...Huh?”

Riddle set down his tea cup - it was a pretty, delicate little thing, gilded gold along the edges and handle, with roses painted beneath the rim. His mother would be mortified if she knew he was drinking strawberry milk tea with an ungodly amount of sugar out of it, Riddle had once said with a small, almost sheepish smile. That same mouth was now downturned as he regarded them with concern in his wide gray eyes.

“You seemed to be under a lot of stress lately,” he spoke slowly, like they were a frightened animal. Maybe they were. “Is everything alright? Are you sleeping well?”

They weren’t, but that was more of a side effect of their stress than the cause of it. They idly tapped their fingers against their own tea cup, a matching one to Riddle’s. They had been drinking lavender tea in an effort to calm their nerves, but it clearly hadn’t worked.

“I’m fine, promise,” they grinned, hoping it looked convincing.

By the way Riddle’s face scrunched up, it did not.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I know I’m not the best at handling emotions, but if I can help in any way…” Riddle trailed off, looking embarrassed.

They felt their stomach twist in horror. These little tea parties were the highlight of their week, a little moment of reprieve for the both of them to just relax and enjoy each other’s company. And they had gone and ruined it because they couldn’t figure out how to human properly.

“I’m sorry!” they burst out. “I’ve been so anxious lately, and I haven’t been able to sleep, and I’m worried about my grades slipping because I don’t know the first thing about magic and -”

They didn’t even notice they were starting to spiral until Riddle had reached across the table and grasped onto their hand. Their chest was heaving with barely-contained sobs, and they weren’t sure if the trembling they felt in their hands was theirs or Riddle’s.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured. “Deep breaths, now.”

He was parroting what Trey would tell him to help him calm down, they knew, but it was good advice. They knew that he had talked Riddle down from many an anxiety attack before, but the fact that Riddle, someone who suffered from severe mental health problems, was the one calming them down made something sour begin climbing up their throat.

“I-I’m making everything worse…” they mumbled, squeezing Riddle’s hand tighter. “I should be able to handle this without freaking out, but…”

Riddle reached out and brushed away a tear they didn’t know had fallen away with the back of his knuckle. “I know better than anyone how it feels to be under pressure.” he sighed. “Please, don’t think you have to deal with all of this stress on your own.”

Leona: “Will you sit still for five minutes?”

They hadn’t thought they had been making that much noise. Certainly not enough to wake Leona up from his nap, that was damn near impossible. So either the floorboards in Ramshackle dorm were worse than they thought, or Leona hadn’t actually been sleeping.

“Sorry,” they mumbled, staring down at the worksheet in front of them. They had been trying to finish this homework for hours, and the incantations were starting to blur together. What language were these even written in? Were they in the demonic section or nature section?

Leona sat up from where he had unceremoniously plopped himself on their bed. “You’re fidgeting like a rabbit, herbivore.”

“So you weren’t sleeping after all.”

“Hard to sleep when I can practically smell your anxiety.”

“Then go sleep somewhere else.”

Leona clicked his tongue, sounding annoyed, but they both knew he secretly enjoyed it when they got snappy with him. Not a whole lot of people had the guts to give him sass, and he liked having someone to verbally spar with. “And miss watching you squirm?”

“I’m not squirming.” they bit back.

“So that chair squeaking was just the ghosts, then?”

“Maybe.”

They could practically hear Leona roll his eyes, but they still didn’t take their eyes off of their textbook.

“Staring a hole into the page isn’t going to solve the equation.”

“How do you know?”

“Shut up and get over here.”

That made them look up. Leona had stood up, motioning them over with a tilt of his head. “You’re taking a break.”

“But -”

“You’re. Taking. A. Break.” he punctuated his words by grabbing the back of their desk chair and pulling. Just enough to jolt them, they could tell by the way the chair stopped that he was purposely holding it steady. Even so, they couldn’t help the small noise of surprise they made.

“Leona, I have to finish this!”

“You’ve been staring at the same page since I got here, you aren’t finishing anything.”

Subconsciously, they knew that taking a break would probably be good for them. But the part of their brain that was panicking about failing was telling them that if they took a break they were essentially giving up. And giving up wasn’t an option.

“Herbivore.”

The soft growl in Leona’s voice snapped them out of their thoughts. Leona had gone back over to the bed, flopped onto his back with his arms splayed out. To anyone else, it looked like he was just lazing about, but they had been with him long enough to realize that this particular position was an invitation.

It was then that they realized just how sore their neck and back were from being hunched over their desk. And how badly their eyes were burning from staring at the miniscule writing in their textbook. And how their legs and arms were one wrong move away from cramping because of how tense they had been.

...Okay, yeah, maybe a cuddle break was in order.

Leona grunted when they plopped on top of him, face buried in the crook on his neck. “Shit, herbivore, that hurt.”

“Suck it up.” they muttered, internally melting a little when he brought his arms up to wrap around them.

“Tch,” again, he sounded annoyed, but they knew better. “Learn to take better care of yourself.”

Azul: There was so much stuff to do.

Even if Crowley made sure they didn’t have to worry about money, a lot of the responsibilities of dorm upkeep still fell on them. They had to buy groceries, clean the whole dorm, make sure the place didn’t fall apart, follow Grimm around and make sure he hadn’t scorched any curtains...and that was all after they had done the assigned homework.

All things considered, they did a pretty good job, but sometimes they laid awake at night thinking of all of the things that needed to be done. Which left them in a less-than-ideal state for class the next day.

Gr-gr-grmmble…

They winced, hoping no one heard that. They had slept soundly through their alarm this morning, to the point where Grimm had to slap them awake, and therefore didn’t have time to snag breakfast. And it was really hard to focus on Trein’s droning lecture when they were both hungry and sleep-deprived.

Ace looked at them out of the corner of his eye with a raised eyebrow, but thankfully didn’t say anything. It might have been because the last time they got busted talking in class the spiel from Trein had been worse than if Riddle had just collared them, but still.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Trein dismissed the class. They still had Alchemy before they could go grab lunch, and even though mixing potentially explosive potions in their current state seemed like a terrible idea, Grimm skipped class enough. They didn’t need to add to his track record. So, feeling distinctly zombie-like, they made their way through the halls towards the alchemy lab.

Maybe they could dash by Sam’s shop really quick and grab a protein bar just to hold them over? No, Trein had yammered on until the last possible second, and they only had a few minutes before their next class started. There was no time. Maybe -

“Oof!”

“Whoa!”

Well, that’s what they got for not watching where they were going. Their books clattered to the ground as they ran headfirst into someone.

“Ah, damn, I’m sorry,” they bent down to pick up their books. Now they really were going to be late.

“Are you alright?” they looked up to see Azul stooping down to help them. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine!” they grinned sheepishly. “Just wasn’t paying attention, is all.”

Azul frowned, picking up their Alchemy textbook before straightening. “You look exhausted. Another rough night?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Pale blue eyes widened and Azul flushed red. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” he stammered, “I just - I merely - “ he cleared his throat, quickly recomposing his gentlemanly demeanor. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

“Relax, Azul,” they laughed, standing up from their crouched position. “I was just teasing you.”

“Must you do that in public?”

“Are you saying you like it when I tease you in private?”

“That is not what I said.”

They laughed again, reaching for their books, but Azul held them out of reach. “Hey, come on,” they pouted. “I’m going to be late.”

“Seriously, are you alright? You look kind of pale.”

They sighed. “I didn’t sleep very well last night, and then overslept this morning, so I haven’t eaten anything. Happy now?”

“Not really, no.” Azul frowned. “Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch at the lounge.”

“But I have class.”

Azul kept walking, and they had no choice but to follow considering he still had most of their books. “I’m sure Crewel will understand if you miss one class. You have an otherwise perfect track record.”

“How do you know that?” they asked. “We don’t have any classes together.”

“I have my ways.” Azul smiled cryptically at them.

“Which one of them was it?”

“Jade.”

“Knew it.”

Kalim: “...and then, there was this one time, the baby elephants broke out of their cages…”

They wanted to pay attention, they really did. Kalim was a great story-teller, even if he was a bit all over the place. And stories from a magical noble family, no matter how mundane to Kalim, were always fascinating. They could sit here and listen for hours.

Well, usually, anyway.

Nothing in particular was wrong, really. They had just woken up feeling off. It could have been anything. They could have had a weird dream, they could have forgotten something minor, the planets could be slightly unaligned, it didn’t matter. It was just an off day, and they were feeling it.

“...hello? You still in there?”

They nearly hit the ceiling when Kalim snapped his fingers in front of their face. Where they had been sitting there being anxious about trying to figure out what was making them anxious, Kalim had crawled across the floor where the two of them had been having lunch in his room. He had wanted to have a picnic on the flying carpet, but Jamil had put his foot down. Literally, he had stood on the carpet so Kalim couldn’t ride it.

“Sorry!” they yelped, almost knocking their tea over as they were forcibly brought back into the present.

“You looked kinda worried there,” Kalim frowned, quite an unusual look for him. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” they looked down at their lap and bit their lip to stifle a gasp. While they had been worrying, they had subconsciously been picking at the skin around their fingernails. There were a couple tiny drops of blood beading up around their nail beds. Maybe Kalim wouldn’t notice?

“Hey, you’re bleeding!”

Damn.

Kalim’s expressive, ruby-red eyes went wide and he lunged forward to grab their hands. “When did that happen? How did that happen? Do you need to go to the infirmary?”

“Kalim, I’m fine, there's barely any blood.” they sighed, gently prying their hands away from him. “I do that a lot.”

“You just randomly start bleeding?!”

“No, Kalim,” they laughed softly, shaking their head. “I pick at my nails when I get anxious.”

Kalim pouted, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “You’re anxious? Why are you anxious? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, it isn’t you, I promise!” they idly swiped at their nails. The places they had picked open had already closed. “It’s just...it’s a thing. I just have anxiety in general, is all.”

Frowning, Kalim sat back down in his original spot. “Isn’t there a way to fix that?”

“There’s a few ways, but none of them are quick.” they shrugged. “I was doing better, but suddenly coming here brought back a lot of my old habits.”

“Hm…” Kalim stared at them intently before the apparent storm passed and he brightened up again. “Well, we’ll just have to get you new habits to replace the old ones!”

“I...don’t think that’s quite how that works…”

“Here!” Kalim reached down and took a bangle off of his wrist. It was gold, with an elephant charm hanging off of it. With a big, eye-closing grin, he handed it to them. “When I was little, I used to get scolded for squirming a lot, so my mom told me to play with a small toy instead of running around. I know it’s a bit different, but maybe, instead of picking at your fingers, you can play with the charm instead? Would that help?”

For a moment, they were quiet, just staring at the shiny gold bracelet in their hand. Then, a small smile split across their face. “Yeah, I think it’ll help.”

Vil: “You haven’t been sleeping.”

“Hello to you too, Vil.” they sighed, flopping unceremoniously onto the stone bench beside him. Usually they at least tried to hold themselves to a higher standard when they were with the Vil Schoenheit, but they just didn’t have the energy. “How could you tell I haven’t been sleeping?”

“Unless the undead look is a new fashion trend, but bags under your eyes are very telling.” he reached over to tuck their hair behind their ear, both in an affectionate gesture and to get it out of the way so he could assess them better. “You’re also breaking out. Are you stressed?”

“Isn’t everybody stressed?”

“Don’t get existential, just answer the question.”

They huffed, letting their head rest on the hand that was still at their ear. “Yes, okay, I’m stressed, happy?”

Students were watching the two of them on their way through the gardens, but Vil paid them no mind. He had plenty of practice at ignoring the masses. “We’ve discussed this, haven’t we? Mental health is just as important as physical health.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” they closed their eyes, unable to look at him.

“I didn’t mean that to be scolding,” this time, Vil sighed. “Just a reminder that you need to take care of yourself. Maybe a spa day is in order.”

That did sound nice. “Can we do hair masks?”

“Of course, my dear.”

Idia: “Big Brother, you have a guest!”

Idia fought the urge to groan when Ortho popped his head into the room. Why did people always have to bother him on raid night?

Just as he was about to tell Ortho to send whoever it was away, a second head appeared.

“Hey, Idia.” the Ramshackle prefect sounded drained, enough to make him type a quick “AFK” into the chat and turn to them.

“Everything...alright?”

They stepped fully into the room, returning Ortho’s cheerful wave before closing the door and collapsing face-first onto Idia’s bed. “There’s too many people out there.”

“Mood.”

“And they all want me to do stuff for them.”

“Also mood.”

“So can I hide in here for a little? Please?” they turned their head to look at him with pleading eyes. “I’ll be quiet, I know it’s raid night.”

Idia turned to glance at the screen. The team he had gotten saddled with this time around was garbo - three tanks and no healer, honestly - so he was fairly confident they weren’t finishing the dungeon. Shaking his head, he clicked a few buttons and the screen returned to his desktop.

“Bunch of losers anyway,” he mumbled, getting up from his chair. “Wanna play something else?”

“Can we play Skull Girls?”

A few moments later, they were sitting side-by-side on the bed with the opening for the game playing on one of Idia’s monitors

This was what they needed. No people besides the two of them, no lazy Headmasters asking them to take care of problems way beyond their physical and emotional capacity, no chaotic cats threatening to light everything on fire. Just a nice little break.

Slowly, careful, so as not to startle him, they leaned over until their head was resting on his shoulder. He tensed, but his hair didn’t turn red, so they counted that as progress.

“Thanks, Idia.”

“N-N-No problem.”

Malleus: Okay, so this probably hadn’t been one of their better ideas.

Sleep just wasn’t happening tonight. All of the things they had to worry about kept running through their head, and every time they thought they were about to drop off, something else popped up. Eventually, they had given up and decided to take a walk.

Unfortunately, they had completely forgotten how cold it could get at night. Even with the jacket they had pulled on over their pajamas, they were shivering.

“You’re up late.”

The deep voice startled them, but they managed to compose themselves before turning around. “So are you, Tsunotarou.”

Malleus Draconia smiled softly at the nickname, looking absolutely ethereal with the small green lights flitting around him. “It’s dangerous to be out alone at night, Child of Man.”

“The gargoyles will protect me.” they said cheekily. Malleus chuckled.

“And what of me?” he asked. “Do I not get the honor of protecting you?”

“You can fight the gargoyles for the honor.”

Again, Malleus laughed, before noticing the subtle tremors that wracked the human’s body. “You’re cold.”

“This wasn’t my best-laid plan.” they sighed, tugging their jacket closer to their body. “I always forget how cold it is at night.”

Malleus hummed before opening his arms. “Come here, then. I’ll keep you warm.”

They hesitated for a moment before stepping into his embrace, sighing as his body heat seeped into their being. “Wow, you really are warm.”

“Dragons run hotter than humans,” he explained, tugging their head beneath his chin. “It’s why I have no trouble roaming around at night.”

“Lucky.”

“Well,” he murmured. “I’ll simply have to accompany you on your nighttime adventures to keep you warm.”

#twisted wonderland #disney's twisted wonderland #twst riddle #twst leona #twst azul #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twst malleos

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kirishimaswife2819 · 4 years

Text

Them With a S/o Who’s Never Seen Snow || Midoriya, Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, and Kaminari

Masterlist

Pairings: Izuku Midoriya x Reader, Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, Eijiro Kirishima x Reader, Shoto Todoroki x Reader, and Denki Kaminari x Reader

Requested by Anonymous: hi! could i request some headcanons with the boys who have an s/o who's never seen snow before? like, the reader moved from a pretty warm place to ua and they're amazed when they see it snowing. ty!

Word Count: 1.3k

A/n: This request reminds of this one time I went outside at night when it was snowing, and I could not stop thinking about playing in the snow with Kirishima in the middle of the night, and that scenario lives in my head rent free (might write a drabble about it sometime). Anyway, thanks for requesting! -Danielle <3

Izuku Midoriya:

You were in the kitchen, making yourself a cup of coffee/tea/hot cocoa etc. (whatever you drink to wake you up), when Izuku came in

“Morning Y/n,” Izuku said, frowning at the bags under your eyes, “Did you have trouble sleeping last night?”

“A little bit, it’s just so cold,” you replied, pouring your drink into a cup

“That’s probably because it’s snowing,” Shoto said, surprising both of you, since neither of you knew that he had walked in the room

“Holy crap, Todoroki, you can’t just-” Izuku was cut off by you placing your cup down and running to look out the window

“Oh my god, it’s snowing! Look, Izuku, it’s snowing!”

“Yeah? What’s so exciting about that?” Izuku asked, confused at why you were so excited to see snow. He had forgotten that you came from somewhere warm, and that you’ve never seen it before

“I’ve never seen snow before,” you replied

Izuku felt sort of bad for forgetting that, even though you didn’t really mind

So, later that day, you two ended up outside for a bit, playing in the snow

But since you were from a warmer place, you didn’t own a pair of gloves or a scarf or anything like that

And when Izuku’s mom let him move into the dorms, she packed him winter clothes, and she packed him a ton of gloves, scarves, hats, etc., so he let you wear some of his until you got your own

He also let you wear his new winter stuff, and wore his old stuff, cause he would have felt bad if you had worn the old stuff

He almost died from how cute you looked, playing the snow, wearing his hat, scarf, gloves, and jacket

Of course, the next day Izuku took you to the store to get your own snow stuff, but he let you keep his scarf

Katsuki Bakugou:

You and Katsuki had gone on a date, but the table you were sitting at in the restaurant was in the back, so there were no windows nearby

The two of you ended up spending two hours in the restaurant, until finally, Katsuki paid the bill, and you two put on your coats before leaving

The two of you made your way outside and you gasped at what you saw

There was a thin coat of snow covering the ground

“Katsuki! It’s snowing!” You explained

“Why the fuck is that so exciting?”

“I’ve never seen snow before,” you replied, bending down to feel it on your hands

“Okay? And? It’s cold and fucking annoying,” Bakugou replied, slipping his gloved hands into his pockets

By the time you guys made it back to the dorms, it was snowing harder, and you were covering in it as you walked in

On your way home, you made Katsuki stop at the store with you and help you pick out some snow stuff, since you didn’t have any

Later that day, you and a few of the other students were playing in the snow, while Katsuki was sitting inside, watching you from the window

He already didn’t like it, because Izuku was outside in the snow too, and he didn’t like you hanging around Izuku

He snapped when Izuku and you got into a snowball fight, just between the two of you, and he growled and mumbled curses under his breath as he slipped on his jacket and other snow stuff, before going outside

“Katsuki! You decided to come out!” You said, your face lighting up at your boyfriend, forgetting all about your snowball war with Izuku

You and Katsuki ended up building a snowman, but towards the end, he got mad because the stick wouldn’t stay in the snow, and blew it up, along with one of his gloves

Eijiro Kirishima:

This man was just as excited as you and that’s saying something, because you were pretty excited

He was actually the one that woke you up on the day that you first saw it

Kirishima had a spare key to your dorm, since you gave him one for emergency cases only

And apparently it snowing outside counts as an emergency case

So you woke up to a very happy and excited Kirishima pouncing on you

“Y/N! WAKE UP, IT’S SNOWING!”

Whenever he first found out that you’ve never seen snow before, he immediately bought you snow stuff that matched his own

So, you already had stuff to keep you warm

You guys spent almost the whole day outside in the snow

You only went in for lunch, and dinner, before finally going inside for the night

You two ended up building a whole house out of snow (it melted a few days later and Kirishima almost cried)

You also built a whole family of snowmen, and Eijiro took it upon himself to name them all and give them personalities

When you guys came back in, multiple students scolded you for staying outside for so long, saying you two were going to get sick

Neither of you got sick, so you did the same thing again like a week later

And then the week after that

And the week after that week

Both of you were low key upset when winter ended, because you guys had so much fun playing in the snow together, or even just looking at it together

Shoto Todoroki:

Shoto has obviously seen snow before, but I feel like he’s never really got the chance to play in it

Whenever you first moved to U.A., and you and Shoto started dating, you would always rant about how excited you were for it to be winter time, and how much you wanted to see snow

He didn’t really get why you were so excited about it, and you caught onto this and asked him about it

So, he explained that he’d never really gotten to do anything fun in the snow

You and Shoto were cuddling in his dorm, when you heard Bakugou complaining in the hallway about how cold it was and how it was snowing

You were half asleep, and took a moment to process it, before shooting up and off of Shoto’s chest

“Shoto! Did you hear that!? Bakugou said it’s snowing!”

“Are you fucking stalking me!?” You heard Bakugou yell from the hallway, since he heard your outburst

So, you dragged Shoto outside, after having Momo make you some snow stuff to wear, since you didn’t have any

You threw a snowball at Shoto and he just stood there, and you had to explain to him what a snowball fight was

After you told him, he actually got pretty into the fight, and had a lot of fun

You two ended up going inside because you were getting too cold

But after that, you two occasionally went out in the snow, and Shoto honestly had fun doing it too

Denki Kaminari:

Like Eijiro, he was more excited that you were

You two were in the common area, when it started snowing and Denki noticed it

“Babe! Babe! It’s snowing!” Denki said, shaking you awake, because you had fallen asleep up against his side

“It is?” You asked, slightly opening your eyes, “Okay, we can go out tomorrow.” You snuggled closer into his side as he tried not to get so excited

Got you a set of gloves and all that in your favorite color

The next day, you guys went out and he immediately threw a snowball at you

You were outside for a solid five seconds, enjoying the view and being amazed, and then you felt a snowball hit your back

You guys got so competitive during the snowball fight, you even built like walls of snow to hide behind

Spoiler alert, Denki ended up winning, because he’s better at making snowballs than you because you’ve never done it before that day and he has

After what Denki refers to as “The Great Snowball War”, you two make two snowmen that are supposed to represent you and Denki, but you both suck at making snowmen

Great experience, 10/10 would recommend, Denki is a lot of fun to play in the snow with

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jingukk · 4 years

Text

snowed in

Pairing: yoongi x reader

Genre: drabble, fluff, slice of life | f2l, roommates!au

wc: 1200+

warnings: none

you’re trapped inside your apartment during your favorite season, sipping your favorite drink with your favorite person.

When you wake up, all you see is white. Not unusual considering your recent paint job, the ugly cheeto orange that used to coat your walls happily a thing of the past, but what’s peculiar is that your windows seem to be white too. Blearily you get out of bed and head towards them, realizing as you get closer that snow is covering the panes.

This fact delights and worries you. For one, you love snow. The peace and tranquility that comes with watching those crystals fall from the heavens is truly unmatched. Winter is your favorite season and building snowmen is your favorite pastime, a sweet reminder of how easy life used to be. On the other hand, you have things to do today, places to be. Your daily commute to work is already 30 minutes, but if you throw traffic and snow blocked roads into the mix? It’ll take well over an hour.

Cursing, you stumble out of your den and head across your living room towards the bathroom, trying to plan out the best way to make it to work in one piece. You’ll have no time for breakfast, a banana will have to suffice, and you could probably skip a shower to save more-

“What's the rush?”

Stopping in your tracks you whip around. Yoongi gazes lazily at you from his spot on the couch, a big blanket covering his frame. His hair is all over the place, eyes still a little puffy from sleep.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Uhm, work?” you question pointedly. “You know, the place where I get paid?” He chooses not to respond to your sarcasm. “Your office opened an hour ago, why aren't you there yet?”

He yawns, stretching his arms to the side. “Called in a few minutes ago, told them I’m not coming. You should do the same.”

“Yea right,” you snort, “a little bit of snow isn’t gonna stop me from driving.”

“Right now it's reached 10 inches, by tonight it's supposed to reach 18.”

“Wha- 18 INCHES,” you choke on your spit, “is that even possible?”

“If it was possible for me then it’s possible for mother nature, I suppose.”

The sound of your giggling brings a tiny smile to Yoongi’s face, pleased his joke managed to ease your mind for a second. Unfortunately, this only lasts for so long, the reality of your situation re-entering your mind and your shoulders sagging once again.

You need to go in today, what with the board of directors paying a visit to your branch. Not to mention the free catering on Mondays. “I have work in an hour, how am I supposed to go?” you mope, plopping down on the couch next to him with your head in your hands.

“You aren’t,” Yoongi replied casually, rubbing your back. “Parking garage is snowed in and our street hasn’t been plowed. Looks like you’re spending today with me.”

You shoot him a withering glare, one which quickly fades as you realize he’s right. There’s no way you’re gonna make it in today. Sighing, you pull out your phone and shoot your boss a quick email explaining your absence, relieved when she quickly responds with a “No worries, we can reschedule the presentation. Stay warm and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Scanning over your tired figure, Yoongi gets up. “Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?” he asks, making his way into the kitchen.

“Mmmm, hot chocolate please!” you call out, grabbing Yoongi’s blanket and making yourself comfortable before you try to choose something to watch. “Thanks!”

Humming in response, Yoongi opens the top cabinet as he searches for your favorite mug, smiling when he sees the ceramic Cinnamoroll cup that he had gifted you two years ago for Christmas. Grabbing his matching Mocha cup he puts both on the counter and begins to heat up the milk, taking out a can of whipped cream and those tiny heart marshmallows that you enjoy. It doesn’t make a lick of sense to him, marshmallows taste like marshmallows regardless of shape! But anything for you, right?

You had raved so animatedly about finding “Hello Kitty and Friends Supercute Adventures” on Youtube that year, your enthusiasm about the Sanrio characters being infectious. Replaying his memories Yoongi chuckles to himself, endeared as he looks at the living room where you’re still squirming around trying to find a comfortable spot on the couch.

He makes his way to you in no time, two mugs topped with mountains of pillowy goodness in hand. As he sits next to you, you take your cocoa from him and shoot a grateful smile his way, one which he returns. Sipping slowly, you exhale contently as sweetness hits your tastebuds and warmth spreads throughout your body. Delicious.

You take a couple more sips before you decide to let it cool down, the reddi-wip not doing much to prevent a burnt tongue. It seems the man next to you feels the same way as he sets his mug down on the coffee table next to yours, the heat from the cocoa melting the sweet cream that lies atop. Giving it a few minutes, you focus on the television, flipping through channels to find something your roommate would like too.

Yoongi’s attention is on the two Sanrio mugs on the table. Cinnamoroll and Mocha, he muses silently. Cute pair. He glances in your direction. You’re like the Cinamoroll to his Mocha. He likes to think so, anyways.

His train of thought is broken as an old cartoon begins to play on the TV, the intro music being one he knows well from his childhood. The familiar tune shakes Yoongi out of his daze and he focuses on the animations on the screen, bright figures jumping about in a montage. The two of you begin to sing from memory, loud and offkey, and Yoongi’s high notes and pitch changes elicit giggles as you continue to belt out lyrics alongside him. Soon enough, your stomachs hurt from laughing and giddy smiles are painted on your faces as the opening theme song comes to a close.

After your outstanding duo musical performance ends you pick up your cup of cocoa again, the drink now being a good temperature for you to enjoy without hissing in pain. After a couple of sips, you feel Yoongi’s eyes on you.

“What?”

Silently he lifts your chin and wipes whipped cream from your bottom lip with his thumb. The two of you have fallen into a comfortable rhythm after living together for some time, so acts such as this weren’t uncommon. But for some reason unknown to you, Yoongi’s hand remains under your chin, his fingers brushing your skin ever so gently.

You freeze, unsure of what to do or where to look. “You had a little something there,” he murmurs softly as his hand retreats back to his lap, staring at you with a look you can only describe as fondness. You shiver.

“T-thanks,” you stutter, averting your eyes back to your mug. Your cheeks feel very warm, all due to the hot cocoa, you think, the fact that the drink had become almost room temperature escaping your mind.

Yoongi chuckles.

It’s 18 degrees outside today but you couldn’t feel warmer.

#yoongi drabble #yoongi ff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi scenarios #ficswithluv #bts #bangtan #yoongi #min yoongi #jingukkdrabble #bts drabble #bts scenarios #bts drabbles #bts ff #bts fanfic

168 notes · View notes

diegos-butt · 3 years

Text

Electricity chapter 4

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (Curvy OFC)

Warnings: mention of murder, a bit of fighting

Wordcount: 3.9k

A/N: don’t do anything reckless y’all. Let me know what you think of this chapter. 😘

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

•••

Somehow the universe was on my side for once. Once I got home, I noticed I had a new text message. I was surprised to see that it was from Walter. He asked if I got home safe. What a gentleman.

I figured he just wanted to make sure I got home safe, I didn’t think too much of it. If anything, I didn’t think we would end up texting each other for three days in a row. Did I wish that would happen? Yes. Did I actually believe it could happen? Definitely no. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe it.

“Have you been texting with him again last night?” Gia asked when she saw me yawn and stretch my arms out above me. We were having a slow morning at work, and this was the third time she showed up at my desk.

“Maybe,” I smirked. Even though it started a little awkward, we were still texting. After I had texted him back that I got home safe, and he send a thumbs up emoji, it was silent for a moment. I had thought about what I could possibly text him next. I grabbed my phone to compose a text when a new message already popped up.

Walter: Still sure you want to live here?

A smile had formed on my face. He thinks he is funny huh. I was wondering what I could text back, and I thought to myself: what would I tell my friends to text back in a situation like this? Normally, I would never listen to my own flirting advice, but at that moment, I did.

Melody: Might stick around. Heard the detectives in town are quite something.

Since then, we had been texting constantly. Alright, maybe not constantly, we were both busy during the day, but we spend a good amount of the late evening texting. We got to know each other a little better. I told him about my family, and I shared a few awkward stories. For example, I told him about the time I was too stubborn to put on sunscreen during the summer, and I got sunburned to bad, I would never forget to apply it ever again. I still apply it every day, even in the winter.

In return he told me all about the shenanigans he pulled as a kid, and that he had a kid himself, Faye. At first, I was a little bit surprised, but then I figured we would have a babysitter once we would get children. Mel, get it together. You are not even dating him, you don’t even know if he likes you and you are already thinking about having children with him?! Our kids would look damn cute though..

“Earth to Mel! Stop daydreaming for once, and get some work done.” Carmen laughed and threw a pen at me, which I skilfully dodged, but it did wake me up from my little daydream.

“There is nothing to do! No development in the murder case and that’s all I am covering right now,” I said and spun around in my chair. “I am so bored right now, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Text your man, see if he has any new information?” Gia suggested.

“Hmm, he avoided talking about the case. Maybe they are having trouble getting a match with the murderer on that dating app.” I had told them about what happened the other day at the police station. I might have a hearing problem now because they had screamed so loud, I’m convinced the entire building heard them. It’s safe to say, they were very excited and convinced he liked me.

“Besides, he’s not my man!” I said while throwing the pen I picked up back at Carmen. “I mean, I wish, but he is so out of my league.”

“No one is out of your league, and I swear he’s into you. I saw the way he looked at you at the bar and at the crime scene. I have an eye for these things, trust me,” Carmen said and dodged the pen as well.

“Whatever,” I sighed. I spun around in my chair a few more times before an idea popped up in my head. “Guys, what if we set up an account on that dating app?”

“And then what? Meet with a creep? No thank you,” Gia said with a disgusting look on her face.

“I’m not a fan of that plan either. Please don’t do something like that Mel. Don’t do anything stupid. That could be very dangerous, and you know it,” Carmen agreed.

“It’s not like I’m actually going to meet him. I just want to see if I can figure out what profile he is using this time.” I stood up and looked out of the window. I oversaw the city, the sky was grey, and it was slightly raining. “Alright, fine. Can one of you give me something to do in that case? Otherwise I will make a dating profile.”

Later that day I laid in bed, trying to sleep. It was 1am and I had been trying to sleep for two hours, but I was still wide awake. I felt restless and didn’t know what I could do to fall asleep. I had tried to drink some tea, didn’t help. I watched an episode of The Office, didn’t help either. It also didn’t help Walter hadn’t texted me back for hours now. I wondered if he was already getting tired of me.

You know, I could, maybe, possible, just make an account on that dating app and swipe for a while. Maybe I would come across someone that matches the profile that the murderer would use. Gia and Carmen will probably kill me though.

I grabbed my phone. I hesitated for a second, but I downloaded the dating app. After I made an account and uploaded some cute selfies, I finally got to do some swiping. The most guys that came up were pretty basic. They didn’t spike my interest at all. They were the typical white boy, all with the same haircut and they looked like they did not only skip legday, also arm- and chestday. Half of them also posed proudly with a fish they had caught. As if that’s something girls like. Too bad none of these men look a little like Walter.

I also came across a few good looking, decent guys. I knew that was not what the police were looking for, so I swiped them to the left. The next profile was of a guy who was way too good looking. He also only had one picture. It was obviously that this picture was stolen from a model. The bio creeped me out a little. He said he liked to hike in nature, and he enjoyed the silence. You enjoy the silence? Are you trying to creep me out on purpose or what? I swiped him to the right. It was weird but I felt like this could be the one the police were looking for.

I swiped for a little while longer. Swiping a few sketchy looking profiles to the right until I felt my eyelids drop. Yawning, I put my phone aside and finally fell asleep.

The next morning my alarm woke me up. I stretched out after I turned the alarm off and grabbed my phone. There were a few messages, one of them was from Walter, but what spiked my interest was that I had a few matches on the dating app. I wanted to check it out, but I noticed I had to get out of bed and take a shower if I wanted to be at work on time.

After I had showered and got dressed, I grabbed my phone. The first message I opened was from Walter. He had texted me at 3am.

Walter: We were working late today, no breakthrough in the case. Missed texting with you, can I make it up by calling you tonight?

My heart skipped a few beats. He wanted to call? With me?! I stared at the message for a few seconds while I felt some butterflies flying around in my stomach. Okay, no need to freak out. He just wants to call, he is not proposing. Yet….

Melody: I missed texting with you too. And of course, you can call me tonight. I look forward to it.

Before I could overanalyse my response, I hit send. Take a deep breath Mel. No need to read into this too much. I checked my other messages and texted my mom and Gia back. My mom wanted to know how I was doing, and Gia needed an approval of her outfit of the day.

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed some milk and cereal. While I was eating my breakfast, I noticed the notifications from the dating app. There were a few new matches, and one of them had send a message. It was from the guy with the creepy profile. His name was John. Millions of people are named John, you could’ve at least been a bit more creative while choosing a name.

John: What do you say good looking? Let’s skip the talking stage and just meet up?

I shivered at the thought of meeting up with this guy, but he could be the one they’re looking for, right? I decided to just go to work and deal with it later.

The workday was slow and boring. I finished a few articles but spend most of my time gossiping with Gia about our favourite celebrities which annoyed Carmen at first, because she wanted to get some work done, but eventually she joined us. I also told them about Walter’s text from that morning. If I weren’t sure I already had a hearing problem from their screams before, I sure as hell would have one now. Those girls made sounds so high, I’m surprised the windows didn’t crack.

The rest day went by slow, and before I knew it the clock showed me it was 3pm. I had decided to not tell Gia and Carmen about the fact I downloaded the dating app and was considering meeting with ‘John’. I mean, I would inform Walter about it. I wasn’t a complete idiot. No need to stress those girls out. Why would I?

My phone buzzed and I picked it up. Another message from ‘John’.

John: What’s it going to be beautiful?

I thought about it, and what could go wrong? I would inform the police, aka Walter. Besides that, I can put up a fight. It’s not like I am a damsel in distress. Plus, the upside of being a little bigger; I’m harder to kidnap, you got to be pretty strong to even lift me up. I shrugged my shoulders and texted him back.

Melody: Sure.

Short, but clear. I looked around the office, Gia and Carmen both sat at their desks typing on their computers. They had no idea what I was doing. They would probably kill me, right here right now. Before I could change my mind about not telling them, my phone buzzed again.

John: Tonight, 7pm? A new bar just opened up, we could get a drink there.

The rest of the message contained the address of the place. I googled it before I answered. The website of the place popped up, and as I suspected, it was clearly a fake website. Bingo. I texted him back, saying I agreed with his plan.

The rest of the hours I had to spend at the office went by surprisingly quick. Soon people were starting to leave, and so were Gia, Carmen and me. We parted ways in the entrance hall, and I drove home. Once I was home, I looked in the fridge, and I came to the conclusion I had forgotten to do groceries. Again.

I wasn’t in the mood to order take out, so I quickly drove to the supermarket. Unfortunately, unlike last time, I didn’t ran into Walter. Shit, I still have to text him about my meeting with ‘John’. I’ll do it once I get back home.

I drove back home and started making dinner. After I ate dinner, and did the dishes, I looked at the clock. It was already 6.30pm and I had to leave soon. Glaring down at my outfit, I decided I wanted to wear something more comfortable. I went to my bedroom and stood in front of my closet. I grabbed an old pair of jeans and a simple long-sleeved black tee. No way I’m going to dress pretty for this guy. Wait, what if he actually is the guy from the picture? Nah, not gonna happen. Shit, I still need to text Walter.

I needed to hurry up and put the tee on. While putting on the jeans, I suddenly heard a sound I didn’t like to hear. I look down and saw the jeans have ripped in the area between my thighs. Thick thighs save lives? They sure as hell don’t save jeans. I thought while throwing them across the room. Quickly I grabbed another, old, pair of jeans and put it on. I put my shoes on and fixed my hair.

I ran into the living room again and grabbed my jacket. With my car keys and phone in one hand, I locked the door behind me with the other one and made my way to my car. 6.45pm, right on time. I started the car and drove off.

While I stood in front of a red light, I remembered I hadn’t texted Walter. Shit. Contemplating what to do, I decided to call him. He didn’t answer. Shit. I left a voicemail instead. The red light turned green and I continued driving. Once I had to stop in front of another red light, I decided to text him as well. I noticed how the streets around me became emptier and emptier.

The street where I was supposed to meet ‘John’ was dark and pretty empty. The sun was settling down, making it even darker. I parked my car at a parking lot and checked my phone. No response from Walter. Not yet at least. I was alone in the parking lot and decided to wait for a few minutes.

Alright, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe this was pretty dumb. And why did I forgot to text Walter. Why couldn’t I have done that sooner?! You know what, I’m just gonna go. This was dumb. And reckless.

But before I could start my car, someone opened my door. A man stood there, he was tall but not very muscular and he did not look like the profile picture at all. He looked at me with a creepy grin that made me regret doing this.

“Hello there, nice to meet you. I’m John and you must be Melody. Why don’t you step out of the car?” he said. I didn’t knew what to say, so I nodded and wanted to step out, but he spoke again. “Why don’t you leave that phone of yours here, we don’t need it do we?”

I knew I had to play by his rules. So, I left my phone and stepped out. He took the keys out of my hands and locked my car. I tried to keep thinking straight. Walter should be here soon, right?

John kept talking to me in the meanwhile. He kept telling me how pretty I was and how glad he was to meet with me. I stopped listening when I heard my phone go off in the car. Walter. If that is not him but my mom, I will do something to her.

“Come on, let’s get away from that car, shall we? The bar is right around the corner,” he spoke. We were the only people in the parking lot. I noticed he had parked his car a few feet away from me. Something was definitely not right.

“You know, I’m actually good here. Could you give me my car keys back though?” I asked. I knew he wouldn’t, but I had to stall. I really hoped the police would show up anytime now.

“Ah please? Just one drink?” He took a step closer to me and grabbed my wrist. I quickly twisted my wrist, releasing it from his grip. He looked at me with an unpleased look, and I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Never sneak up on me you dumbass. I thought as I felt the presence got closer.

Once I felt someone was right behind me, I didn’t waste another second. I took a step to the right and shoved my elbow straight into the guy’s nose with full force. He grunted in pain and when I looked behind me, I saw he grabbed his bloody nose with both his hands.

“Creepy Greg from finance?!” I say surprised. “Could have seen that one coming.”

“You bitch!” the guy in front of me yelled. He raised his fist and threw it at my face. Well, he attempted it. I dodged it and slammed my fist into his face instead.

“Sorry, that might leave a mark,” I smiled.

Creepy Greg from finance was still standing behind me, crying, and telling me I broke his nose and that I would pay for it. Make me.

I looked back at the other guy, and he swung his arms at me again, trying to hit me. I ducked to the side a few times, avoiding being hit. Sadly, I couldn’t escape all his attempts to hit me. His fist met the left side of my face. I felt my blood boiling from anger. I took a deep breath and raised my fists. While I was about to throw a punch, I heard loud noises. Cars. Thank God, they’re here.

Before I could comprehend what was going on, policemen were already running towards us. One tackled creepy Greg and a familiar figure tackled the other guy and threw a hard punch in his face. This is not supposed to turn me on. At all.

Walter got up and handed the guy over to another cop. The guy looked at me in disgust, but I didn’t see it. My eyes were focussed on Walter. He closed the gap between us by taking two passes.

“First of all, that was insanely stupid and dangerous and very dumb. This was reckless behaviour! But we will discuss this later,” he said vigorously.

“Yeah, I figured,” I said. I opened my mouth to continue speaking, but he spoke first.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he said with a concerned look in his blue eyes, and his hand caressed the cheek that had been hit. As his rough, calloused fingers touched my skin I felt a spark of electricity going down my spine. His other hand found its way to my waist, and he pulled me a little closer to him. His body radiated a welcoming warmth, and I smelled his familiar musky cologne.

“I’m fine, just got hit once. You should see creepy Greg’s nose,” I snickered.

“I did, and you sure know how to throw a punch,” he smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m glad you called and texted me. I’m sorry I missed the call. If I hadn’t missed it none of this would have happened.”

“No, don’t be sorry. This was a pretty stupid, reckless plan and I should have called sooner,” I quickly answered.

“It was indeed reckless and stupid,” he sighed. “Look, we need to take your statement. Why don’t I take you home after?”

“I’d like that, but my car is here,” I said while pointing at it. His hand left my cheek, but his other hand remained on my waist. He was so close to me, and I felt so comfortable despite what happened a few minutes prior.

“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry.” He grabbed my hand, interlaced his fingers with mine and guided me to one of his colleagues. My heart was racing and skipped a few beats at the same time. His hand felt warm and comforting. I never wanted to let go.

We reached his colleague and he started asking me questions and he squeezed my hand before letting go. He walked away to speak to some of his other colleagues and I immediately missed his hand, it felt like mine had fitted perfectly in his.

I told his colleague what happened, and I could see he thought it was really reckless, but I also saw in his eyes he was kind of impressed. He complimented me on how I stayed calm, but he did tell me to never do anything like this again.

Once he dismissed me, I looked around for Walter. I noticed him already walking towards me, and he offered me a little smile.

“So, Liam is going to take your car down to the station and I will drive you home, alright?”

“Thank you,” I smiled at him. “Can I get something from my car? My phone and keys are still in there.”

After we got my stuff out of the car, he pointed at a big truck. We walked towards it in silence, and he placed his hand on my lower back. Oh god, please keep that hand there forever. Okay, I might be incredibly touch starved.

Unfortunately, we reached the car too soon and his hand left my back to open the door for me. I climbed in and he closed it. He walked around the truck, took place behind the drivers’ wheel, and started the car. While he drove into the street he asked for my address.

We sat in silence next to each other, the radio softly hummed a rock song. I looked out of the window, it was dark and suddenly I realized that what I had done tonight, could have ended badly. Really badly.

“Hey, are you okay?” Walter put his hand on my thigh but when I looked at him, his hand shot up to my cheek to wipe a falling tear away.

“Yeah, yeah. Just realizing that this maybe wasn’t a smart thing to do,” I offered him a small smile. His hand left my cheek and found its way back to my thigh. The warmth coming from it spread throughout my entire body and I didn’t think twice and placed my hand on top of his. He turned his hand around and interlaced his fingers with mine for the second time that night.

He smiled at me and focussed on the road again. We were near my home, but I did not want to be alone now. Heck, I wanted to be near him. I didn’t want him to go. It felt so good to just be around him. I have never felt so comfortable around someone so quickly.

He parked the truck in front of my apartment building, not letting go of my hand.

“So, we’re here,” I mumbled. He grunted in response. We sat in the truck in silence for a few more minutes until it started to rain. I knew it was now or never, he was not going to offer going inside with me. Not after what happened. Perhaps he thought I wanted to be alone.

I felt anxious, but I decided to just ask it.

“Could you stay with me for a while?” I avoided looking at him, but he squeezed my hand and his other hand gently grabbed my chin, making me look into his eyes.

“Sure thing doll.”

•••

> chapter five

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cherrynojutsu · 3 years

Text

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 6/?: Roots

It's pouring rain by the time Sasuke awakens, a tempestuous sort of hush awash a village swathed in grey. He's gotten a very good night's sleep, only waking once around five to groggily hearken as the pitter patter of droplets began against the asphalt and metal of the roof. He'd watched the beads of liquid slowly connect to others, forming small rivulets pulled downwards by gravity on the glass of his bedroom window, before he made the decision to try to fall back asleep. To his bewilderment, it had actually worked; a rare occurrence, as it usually doesn't. No dreams, no nightmares, just blissful emptiness, like he was allowed for once to drink in the moisture of rest like a tonic, exuding into his being much like the precipitation trickling into the soil outside.

It's nine thirty when he rolls out of bed, reluctant to leave the warm requiescence of his comforter, but also wanting to give himself plenty of time to get ready. He'd like to shower before he heads over to Sakura’s, and he also wants to eat something light for breakfast first. He decides on ochazuke, because it’s relatively easy to prepare and he thinks he would like more tea; two birds with one stone. There are sesame seeds in his cupboard that he could sprinkle over the dish, at the end. He sets a portion of brown rice to boil before brewing a cup of the caffeinated green sencha to eventually seep over it.

It smells really good as it permeates into the hot water, earthiness propelling upwards and sinking into his nostrils. He'll have to thank her again today, now that he knows what her gift actually contained.

While he lets things stew, Sasuke considers the kitchen table, where he left the remainder of the gifts yesterday. Now is as good a time as any to find a place for each of them, he supposes. He makes quick work of washing the paring board before setting it aside to dry. The cough drops find a home in his bathroom's mostly empty storage behind the mirror; he takes the two lozenges left from the hospital and puts them there, too, to use before he opens any of the new packages.

He decides that the photo should go on the bedside table, next to the clock. He can always move it, if he changes his mind. It catches his eye for longer than is strictly necessary.

Eventually he returns to the kitchen, removing the strainer from the tea and stirring the pot of rice twice as he waits for it to finish cooking. The barrage has lessened since daybreak, not overly loud, but enough to create an ambient sort of background noise that is a nice change of pace; less of a storm and more of a quenched thirst for the earth, emptying from rooftops down the gutters and into the ground. Sakura’s building is older, too; it probably will sound much the same at her apartment.

He savors the ochazuke once it’s finished, a simple but enjoyable way to start the day, caffeine threading its way into his system gradually. Washing the dishes is his next task, followed by an extremely lengthy shower, temperature near thermogenic. The bruises from his two spars with Naruto are still sore, but not terrible; the heat feels good on the marred skin. Water drifts across more bruising that has bled into existence overnight on his shins, before it sinks between his toes and vanishes down the drain. He’s not sure why he watches it; it just seems compelling today for some reason, everything pulling downward.

When he’s dry, he throws on a comfortable pair of black pants and a matching long-sleeved shirt. He doesn’t want to read more of his book since he has a little less than half left of the one on kenjutsu, so he decides to complete some meal prep instead, testing out the paring board by chopping and slicing various produce; mushrooms, bell peppers, broccoli, carrots, tomatoes, green onions, and burdock roots are slowly removed from his fridge, cleaved into neat pieces, and then returned to their respective assortment of bags and containers. The small bits of metal attached to the board allow for cutting goods with ease, a bit ingenious. It works extremely well, much more efficient than the hassle of summoning a clone to simply stand there holding each item still. It’s not that he doesn’t have the chakra to spare, but it feels more dignified this way.

After enough time has passed, Sasuke pulls on a pair of grey socks, sandals, and his cloak before he leaves, library book concealed and protected by the black garment.

It’s marginally chilly outside, but not terribly cold like it would have been earlier in the morning. Petrichor overwhelms him, an aroma he is well acquainted with. He is reminded of the scent of the foliage the handful of times he passed through the Land of Rain, and also of drizzly days spent as a child here in Konoha. Every bit of vegetation he glimpses on the way to Sakura’s apartment complex is drinking up the liquid greedily, drop after drop of nourishment with which they will sustain themselves and use to grow.

The puddles are starting to join in their crevices, small streams of gentle cascades forming. It captures his attention like the shower drain did earlier, and it feels nostalgic for some reason, like there is some forgotten secret that the land beneath is whispering through the medium of interconnected pools, rippling outward until they touch more solid soil.

His hair is a bit damp when he arrives at her building just prior to eleven. Illumination flows from beneath doorways of variegated colors; everyone else is inside today, too. The tonality is similar to the harmony overheard at his own apartment, as he expected; he finds it comforting.

He knows he’s a little early, so Sasuke takes his time going up the stairs. Once he reaches the sage green of her threshold, he raps twice and waits, studying Sakura’s plants in their terracotta pots. There are a few amongst them that he doesn’t recognize, which is curious, given that he’s wandered so many places and has grown familiar with a vast diversity of flora. There is lucky bamboo pushed towards the back of the array, in the area that gets the least amount of light. A spider plant is to its left, and a golden pothos, along with a snake plant, are sandwiched to its right, towards the corner. A lilac moth orchid blooms near her door, a paler variety than he has seen anywhere else. Coral kalanchoe spill out the side of a taller planter, next to pink and pistachio mums, faded yellow butterfly ranunculus, and a small vessel filled with white daffodils, sunny insides flourishing outwards. There are succulents, too, tricolor lavender scallops sprinkled throughout several of the ceramic containers, along with a strain he doesn’t recognize.

Yarrow and jewelweed emerge from smaller pots on the edge of the spread, which makes him wonder if the few plants he’s unfamiliar with are being grown for useful purposes rather than decorative. Perhaps she keeps them for her work crafting antidotes; he knows that the roots of plants can often carry medicinal benefits. One of them is quite odd looking, now that he is peering down at it closely; dark plum-colored stems spread upwards with circular leaf-like shapes at the crown, trains of spiky white flowers budding from them. Another one he can’t identify has a tiny whitish yellow flower, dwarfed by the huge wrinkled leaves that surround it.

They appear as if they have been tended already, the loam damp as it is outside with no opportunity for warmth to dry them as of yet, though this verdure is more tame, less wild. She must water them in the morning. All of them are so different, yet they are all alike, too, stringy germinations and rhizomes expanding to suffuse through their similar planters.

Her door clicks open, and he shifts. Sakura smiles up at him, sunshine on a rainy day accented by a dimple, wearing an extremely comfortable-looking outfit: an oversized cream crewneck that slips off one of her shoulders a little, and a juniper pair of jogging pants that he thinks would be too long for her if not for the gathering at the ankles.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," she greets, eyes he loves radiant on his. "It's almost ready; come in."

He responds, “Morning,” and follows her inside, placing his library book on the console table momentarily, where her lamp is already switched on. As he shrugs off his cloak and toes off his sandals, she drifts back to the kitchen, something likely needing her attention there. He notices as she goes that there is an extremely fuzzy pair of beige socks on her feet.

As he hangs his cloak, he realizes that her apartment smells like roasted tomatoes and toasting bread, overpowering any vague notes of her tea cabinet in a way that makes his mouth water.

Sasuke reaches for his book from the console table and goes further into her living space, where the rest of her lamps are also turned on already; no hard lighting. He assumes they'll read on her couch, so he sets the text on the end table, closest to the side where he’d sat the previous night. There are two blankets thrown over the sofa now that weren't there yesterday, one appearing plush that is a color somewhere between mauve and lavender, and the other one a knit heather grey. It’s probable that they came from her bedroom; perhaps the walls are some variant of violet, a color he would not have expected.

As he turns, intending to join Sakura in the kitchen, his eye catches on a familiar photo, and he stops. Perched on one of the few empty areas of one of her bookshelves is their original Team Seven portrait, in a pale wood frame, near white. It's different in finish from the other frames adorning her walls near the kitchen, much lighter in color.

He is struck by it for multiple reasons; it wasn’t there yesterday, meaning it probably has also come from her bedroom, and it is very close in finish to the wood of the uchiwa fan he gave her as a birthday gift. He hasn’t seen it; Sasuke knows most women keep ornamental fans like that in storage for safekeeping. He vaguely recalls his own mother used to keep hers, though less ornate and made of paper rather than silk, in boxes, stored securely for future use at festivals and such in her closet. She’d shown them to him, once, and he’d seen her carrying them on special occasions, from time to time.

Sasuke studies the picture and the wood grain for a long moment, gaze softening. He wonders if she moved it out here to make him feel more at home.

He breaks his contemplation by making his way to her kitchen finally, where Sakura is flipping a grilled cheese sandwich over in a pan, one of two. A slow cooker lies atop the counter, lid condensed with moisture, with plates, bowls, and spoons laid out next to it.

It smells really good.

Green eyes fall on him, bright and filled with exuberance. "These are on their last minute, I think, so if you wanted to, you could dish up the soup while I finish them. There’s a ladle in there.” She gestures towards the drawer beneath the counter where the slow cooker rests. “It's tomato miso; I hope you like it. It should be done by now.”

His stomach suddenly feels tied in knots in the best sort of way. A gilding of warmth spreads throughout his entire being, veins and arteries and capillaries slowly immersed in something numinous.

“...I’m sure I’ll like it,” he murmurs, reveling in the blush that inks its way onto her cheeks, all the way back on her cheekbones to surround the freckle he’d touched yesterday. She looks away shyly, grinning like he has given her some grand compliment. The corners of his own mouth twist upwards.

Sasuke pulls the ladle from the aforementioned drawer, where it sits amongst other utensils, setting it in one of the bowls already placed on the counter. When he removes the lid, his olfactory senses instantly flood with a wave of savory miso; by the aroma, she must have used red, middle range, a perfect foil for the acidity of tomatoes. When he grabs the ladle again, he stirs it a few times; quartered shiitake mushrooms, kombu, scallions, and tomato chunks - he thinks they are of the plum variety - circle the pot, filling it near to the brim just below the surface. Sakura has made a considerable amount of it, much more than is needed for a single meal for two.

He shifts the plates closer to the slow cooker, bowls set atop them, before ladling soup in, careful not to spill and making sure to get an even mixture of produce with which to fill the broth in each. He rinses the ladle clean, and she mentions that there are small plates in the cupboard to his upper left, to rest the ladle on; he grabs one as she moves to open a different cupboard behind him.

Sasuke returns the lid to its place to trap in the slow cooker’s heat, rotating the dial from hot, past low and into the warming setting. When he turns back to Sakura, she’s shutting the stove off and moving the pan to a cool burner. Both of the sandwiches are resting on a cutting board, sliced diagonally.

The sandwiches smell really good, too. She veers the halves onto the empty space of the plates using the knife, before leaving it, along with the paring board, in the sink.

They each grab a plate and spoon before heading to her dining table, in front of the northern window. The dangling market lamp is already turned on, and fat droplets are slipping down the glass.

It’s a calming lunch they share, a steady lulling of inclement background noise alternating between bites of sandwich and spoonfuls of soup as they watch the street below. The avocado is good in grilled cheese; it’s something he would have never thought to add. Sakura dips hers into her soup, so he tries it, too, and finds he likes it even better that way. The soup on its own is something else, though; filling and savory, near perfectly spiced. She’s a good cook.

“It’s good. Thank you,” he compliments halfway through as she chews and swallows a bite.

She beams at him. “You’re welcome.” She studies him before adding, “There’s enough for leftovers, if you’d like any more.”

He nods and takes another mouthful, looking out the glass thoughtfully. The residential buildings across the way are also lit up, soft light blurred through the fractals of raindrops.

“Do you think Naruto’s doing his homework on a day like today?” Sakura asks eventually.

“Tch.” He turns his gaze to her. “I doubt he’s even awake yet.”

Her grin is mischievous. “You’re probably right. It's his weekend. No Hinata around to wake him up? Definitely still asleep.” She sighs exaggeratedly. “Kakashi-sensei will be so disappointed. Though it’s better than copying someone else’s, I guess.”

“...Did he used to copy yours?” He’s more amused by that prospect than he should be, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

Sakura furrows fine pink brows as if she knows that he knows the answer, too, but she’s still smiling. “He used to ask if he could. I was too good of a student to let him.”

“...Figures.” A ghost of a smile overtakes him, a cleansing sort of sentimental fondness for bygone days during which their third squad member was at his most annoying.

“I think Shikamaru used to let him. It was too much effort to say no that many times.”

Sasuke exhales through his nose, a rendition of a laugh as she takes another bite of her sandwich, dipping it first in the soup and looking amused. Nara would.

He also takes another bite, and mulls over his next words.

Swallowing beforehand, he inquires, “...What’s in Suna?”

Sakura blinks in surprise, analytical eyes quickly working out that he’s referring to her comment yesterday at Ichiraku’s. She turns to the window, smirking and chewing her food as if considering something of great importance. The dimple sinks in and out as her mouth moves; he averts his eyes back to his plate before he gets caught staring.

When she swallows, she’s quiet for a long moment, then says ambiguously, “I’m not sure I should say anything. Insider knowledge.”

Interesting. Sasuke is sure she has the same friendly camaraderie with Nara that she has with everyone else, but he assumes the insider knowledge must have actually come from Ino; she is the type to know everyone’s business, given how much she apparently shares her own with Sakura, and she is Shikamaru’s teammate, though they're both Jonin now.

“...No hints?” He presses, pinning her with a stare. Now he’s more curious; it must be something good, if it’s a secret of this magnitude.

She bites her lip, still grinning, then bites into her sandwich, watching precipitation race down the glass.

“One,” she finally acquiesces, as if it’s a monumental conspiracy. He raises an eyebrow in anticipation.

“It’s in Suna sometimes. Other times, not.”

He narrows his eyes and suppresses an urge to twitch, because that could really be anything, given their line of work, but based on her bemused expression, he’s not going to get more than that. He settles for studying her until she looks elsewhere, a shy giggle escaping her throat as if this is very funny.

“Sorry. Not mine to tell.” She raises another spoonful of soup to her lips.

“...But Kakashi knows?”

She swallows. “Oh, yes. He might have known before anyone else caught on.”

“Naruto?”

Sakura appears to be deliberating. “...Mmm, he’s more observant than when we were kids, so he might. I kind of doubt it though. They’re pretty good friends now, but…”

Sasuke hadn’t known that. He waits for her to finish her thought, staring at her pointedly. Her gaze flicks back up to his after a second.

She shrugs, then. “He’s a good strategist. I kind of think he’ll hold a higher-up position, once Naruto becomes Hokage, if Kakashi-sensei doesn’t promote him before that. He’d be an asset as an adviser.”

Shikamaru became the chief coordinator of the Shinobi Union, after the war. That type of advancement would make a lot of sense. He would be well-suited to assist the Hokage even now, moreso in a few years. It speaks to Naruto’s increase in awareness, Sasuke thinks, that he would be planning ahead to compensate for areas he is less strong in by appointing sensible counsel. A clan head is an astute choice, especially one who has put in efforts to make peace.

It’s odd, to think of the roles everyone in their generation has come or will come to fill, the more he considers it. Distinctively different plants with roots distending into analogous vessels, like the terracotta ones on Sakura’s doorstep.

“Nara’s a good choice for that,” Sasuke finally says, realizing he should respond.

Sakura inclines her head before lifting her bowl to her mouth to drink the last of her broth. She’s finished her sandwich now. He’s about finished with his, too.

This is nice, he thinks as she smiles at him before glancing outside again. “It’s really coming down now, huh?”

It’s the type of question that doesn’t really need an answer, but he nods anyway, because it is. Meager ponds are collecting in the street, rills tracing pathways over the awnings of the building across the thoroughfare. Pitter patters on the roof have grown in intensity to rival those of the early morning. It reminds him almost of the summer monsoons Konoha tends to get, though this clearly isn't one, still being in the throes of spring. Moisture is good for roots, he supposes.

He sips the last of the broth from his bowl, and she looks back to him. “Would you like another bowl? Or maybe some tea? I can brew some while I do the dishes.”

Sasuke considers the offer. It was a pretty filling meal, the soup piquant and packed with produce as it was. “...Tea would be good. I can help.”

Sakura seems like she’s going to protest, so he adds, “Thank you for the sencha… and the rest. I didn’t have loose leaf yet; I like it.”

She flushes, smiling at him softly. “You’re welcome.”

A silence filled by drizzle passes in which they regard each other, and then she’s standing to collect her plates, so he follows her example and grabs his own before trailing behind her to the kitchen.

It’s early enough still that they can have caffeinated tea, so she cycles through the loose leaf options she has as the sink fills with suds; matcha, chai, ginger peach, white monkey, and rose bouquet white. “The white monkey isn’t as sweet as it usually is; I think I got a unique batch. It’s more woody and peppery than anything; I’ve been mixing it with matcha.” There are the pre-packaged versions, too, but she doesn’t read them off, since they have more specifically sweet flavors, like caramel vanilla, banana dessert, and strawberry shortcake.

He picks white monkey at her recommendation of it not being too cloying, and she grabs one of the banana dessert pre-packaged tea bags for herself. Sakura makes short work of setting the water in the kettle to boil before procuring two teacups and siphoning some of the white monkey blend into a small strainer she pulls from another drawer.

Once she’s done that, she unplugs the slow cooker and reaches for something from a lower cupboard - two hand towels - to put on the counter; he assumes one is to utilize as a dish mat and the other is to actually dry with.

“If you really want to, you can dry… But you’re a guest, so you don’t have to,” she murmurs, expression affectionate in a way that makes his neck warm.

So Sasuke helps. She washes and rinses - her dish soap is lemon-scented - and strategically sets each piece atop the first towel he’s laid out. He dries one side of the plates and bowls, then flips them over one-handed to dry the other, stacking them on the clean expanse of counter to his right. It doesn’t take very long with them working together. When she goes to empty the sink, she gives it a scrub and a rinse with the soapy sponge she’s been using, efficient as always, before rinsing any remnant suds from her own hands.

“I can show you where everything goes,” Sakura says, so Sasuke helps her put things away, too, mentally cataloging what’s in each cupboard for future reference. Her storage system is well thought out, organized in a way that makes the most sense for the layout of the space.

When she reaches upwards to put the cutting board back in its place, the sleeve of her top slips further to one side, gravity pulling the fabric downwards on her slender frame and exposing some of the skin of her upper back. There is a dusting of tiny freckles just above the interior portion of her left shoulder blade that he hadn’t known was there. The way they are scattered reminds him of serpens caput, missing only one of the constellation’s general equivalent of stars. He forces his stare away, ears reddening, when she turns to remove the pot from the slow cooker.

“Thank you for helping.” Sakura adds coconut creamer and sugar to her own cup of tea, stirring. “Would you like lemon with this one?”

Sasuke thinks, still a little distracted by dainty freckles, before shaking his head. If it’s woody and peppery, he’ll probably like it fine on its own. She pushes his teacup towards him on the counter with a look that tells him to test it, so he does, and finds he was right; it’s herbaceous, with a scant amount of woodiness and pepper lurking underneath. Maybe the tiniest hint of sweetness, but barely.

“It’s good,” he tells her quietly, before taking another sip.

Apparently the grey blanket is reserved for him; she takes the lavender once they head to the living room, curling up on one end of the couch with it, tea and her book on the table. Based on her bookmark, she’s about halfway through hers. Sasuke does the same on the other end, mirroring her pose, back propped towards the side of the couch with feet extending to the middle rather than going off the front. He keeps his knees slightly bent so he doesn’t invade her space too much, though he doesn’t think she would mind.

He steals one last glance at her before opening his own book to get lost in the different ways to wield a blade. The rain on Sakura’s roof is ataractic, accented by the pleasant smell of tea, the sensation of a full belly, and a warm blanket that smells like her, though it’s more raspberry this time than any lingering antiseptic.

It’s nearly three by the time he finishes his book, mind swimming with descriptions of sword forms. Sasuke peeks at her and sees she’s almost done, too, so he rereads the more engrossing passages, the ones that were particularly well fleshed-out. He’s so relaxed that he thinks he could fall asleep despite the caffeine, if he closed his eyes for more than a few minutes; focusing on rereading should help him stay awake.

Sakura closes her book after a bit; he looks upward at the sound, meeting green.

“How was your book?” She asks, lips twisting upwards; she must have noticed he finished his, despite still reading her own.

"...Good."

“Learn anything?”

“...A bit.”

Her smile widens as if she is amused; maybe he should elaborate, but he’s not sure if practical applications of swordsmanship are something she’s interested in.

Evidently they are, because she questions, “Care to share?”

Sasuke begins explaining the concept of iaido, derived from iaijutsu, the samurai skill of drawing one’s sword and cutting in the same movement, rather than cutting from an assumed stance after already drawing the weapon. It’s a simple idea, one he’s experimented with in the past, but there had been illustrations on a few of the pages showing different forms, and two of them he has never attempted. The pictures helped; he thinks to himself when he visits the library again, he’ll seek out one containing more visual aides.

He expounds upon the chapter on dual swordsmanship, too, primarily utilizing one sword to attack and another to defend; the defensive stances detailed are some he would like to try, specifically tailored as they are to be used with one arm. Some of them he’s already used intuitively, but one of the forms captured his attention, involving a slight variant sweeping of the blade to repel an attacker that would situate them at a more advantageous angle. It could be useful, if he ever needs to draw an enemy into a trap.

“Interesting,” Sakura remarks, and it seems genuine. Maybe it is interesting, in the case of someone who has, at least to his knowledge, never used a sword. He would like to ask her about medical ninjutsu sometime. “So it was a good read?”

He inclines his head to indicate yes. “...And yours?”

Sakura grimaces. “It… wasn’t terrible, I suppose. I didn’t really like the author’s writing style. Ino and I differ in that regard. She reads things more for the story itself than the way it’s told, so sometimes this happens.”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow so she’ll clarify. She shifts slightly, bringing a finger to her chin in thought. “It was too… straightforward. Limited and repetitive vocabulary, not a lot of dialogue structural variation, though it’s well-researched; I’ll give it that. It takes place during the second Shinobi War. A civilian woman’s husband going off to battle, they have to evacuate the area, the costs of conflict, that sort of thing. The ending was sad…” Her voice trails off, punctuated by the plunk of deluge, then she adds, “I guess it makes sense that the protagonist would think in limited language given the rudimentary basic education structure of everything back then, but it’s not very… poetic. It was like the author felt nothing as they wrote it, a kind of detachment from the whole thing.”

He suppresses an urge to smirk, reminiscing on her letters and extensive vocabulary. “...You like poetry.” It’s just an observation, but it’s something he hadn’t known about her, prior to now. Very Sakura.

Color floods across her cheekbones, and she looks at him with an expression that is very tender, as if there’s something else she would like to say. He could stare for hours, entranced by her as he is. “...I do.”

Sasuke wonders, then, if any of the books on her bookshelves are poetry books. He hasn’t read the titles carefully. It occurs to him that she might have more books in her bedroom, now that he’s thinking about it. When he was younger, he used to keep many of his own in his room, too, sorted by genre.

“Did you finish your other book already?” Sakura asks him, then, expression inquisitive.

He nods, eyeing her as he contemplates what he would like to say. He decides not to phrase it as a question this time; he wants her to offer, so he knows he's not requesting too much. Give her an out. She trains with Ino in the morning on Mondays and has lunch with her after, but she hasn’t said anything about her plans for the afternoon.

There’s still something in him that’s nervous, tightening as he speaks, careful to specify time. “...I was thinking of going tomorrow afternoon to get some new ones.”

Her smile unfurls slowly; Sakura really can read him well. “...I was, too.”

His chest rushes with warmth, anxiety released in a single relieved breath; it's not too much, then. The corner of his mouth quirks up, and that seems to encourage her, because she adds, “Ino and I are usually done with lunch by around one. It’s supposed to be nice out, I think. We could…” Her voice trails off, as if she’s considering. “...We could meet at the library around one thirty, and then maybe… take books to a quieter area to read, after. If you want. I... think I know a spot that should be fairly dry by then.”

“...I can meet you here,” Sasuke offers in a low voice, a confession he's more comfortable with now. The way she glows in response as she agrees is captivating.

Sakura invites him to play go with her, after. He agrees, because he wants to, and also because he doesn’t want to leave just yet. They set up the board on her dining table, a gridded battlefield of sorts beneath the market light.

She absolutely demolishes him in the first round, carefully surveying the board before each play of her white stones with careful calculation and syllogism. It’s to be expected, because she has always been smarter than him, but also because he hasn’t played in years and is woefully out of practice, ill-prepared to deal with this sort of onslaught. The second round is closer, but he still loses. It’s a challenge, as he knew it would be; Sasuke finds her moves to be quite roundabout, more about the long haul tactics of trapping than any short and quick route to victory. There are times where he realizes he unknowingly played right into a ruse more than five turns previous.

It’s four thirty by the end of the second match. Sakura’s attention flashes to the clock once as she puts away the board; he helps, sorting his own black pieces into their respective container. He will have to head out soon, though he’s not looking forward to it. He is quite comfortable here, with her.

“It’s still coming down out there,” she muses as she rises to store the box, peering through the glass before turning to make her way to the bookshelf she’d retrieved the set from earlier.

“...It is.” He gazes out the window, distracted by the puddles and their ripples below them in the street. It feels almost as if something is tugging on him to focus on them, suggesting something orphic, beyond simple rainwater.

The soft clicking of teacups and small plates being collected from her coffee table resounds behind him, so he turns to her, thinking he could offer to help wash them.

“I made enough soup for leftovers, so if you want to take some home, you can.” Sakura says, before the words make it out of his mouth. Outwardly he remains blank-faced, but something in him sighs. He’s not really sure what he's going to do with the rest of the day. Sparring with Naruto would be unwise on a day like today; he’d probably catch a cold. He could go by a store and buy a book to read, he supposes.

Being back in Konoha is odd like that. He used to just… walk, if he didn’t have anything to do on his journey, or read her letters, but now that he has had the opportunity to spend time with her, he selfishly just wants more of it. Time spent alone seems dimmer in comparison.

He would like to take some soup back to his apartment, though. It was kind of her to offer; he should probably say something.

She looks contemplative when he looks to her, though, carefully clutching porcelain, and thank you lingers in his throat, unspoken.

“Or… If you would like to stay for dinner, and do something after... you could.”

The faintest of stings begins behind his retinas, something long in the tooth stirring, aged roots buried so deeply he had perhaps forgotten they ever existed in the first place. He thinks it is the feeling of being wanted, of having a place in someone’s home.

He hopes she’s offering because she genuinely wants him to stay. She has a mountain of responsibilities, he knows, although it is her day off.

“...You’re sure?”

Pink brows furrow as if she’s confused how he could ask such a thing; she shuffles her weight slightly from one foot to the other. “Of course.”

An interlude passes in which the torrent measures time, the beat of a ballad that is very old. Her next words are hushed, pianissimo lyrics that he’s sure she has no idea just how much he has yearned for; she’s biting her lip and peeking at him from beneath pink lashes as she says them.

“I missed you, when you were gone. You… can fill as much of my free time as you’d like.”

The daunting prospect of a lonely evening evaporates completely. His tongue feels tied up in his mouth, but he nods, hoping she can read in his eyes his gratitude; he’s fairly certain that if he spoke, it would come out hoarse, not at all suitable as a response to the song she has just offered to him.

Sasuke thinks that she can see it just fine, because she gives him a breathtaking smile that could sustain him for a long time, a drop of honey added to an overflowing teacup in which he sips the surplus, with a tinge of an aftertaste that isn’t too sweet for his liking.

The dishes are tackled together. After they finish, she reheats tomato miso soup and cooks two more sandwiches for supper. Another meal is shared at her dining table, overcast skies overlapping into evening, the lights from the windows of Konoha glowing more and more as time passes. It’s just as good the second time, flavorful and filling.

They watch a geology-focused documentary on her television about lava, earthquakes, and landslides. Sakura questions him afterwards about the little time he was in the Land of Volcanoes, south of the Land of Mountains. He hadn’t stuck around for any extended time due to the extreme heat, but what time he did spend there is seared into his memory due to the intensity of it. He had come rather close to one of the region’s volcanoes, within sight of a smoking center mere miles away with lava tendrils trickling outwards, in the process of cooling but still alarmingly hot.

It makes him feel more appreciative for the rain here today, recalling it. Here in Konoha, he could touch the streamlets if he wanted to; he doesn’t need to keep a distance.

They follow up the documentary with a movie after; this time he tells Sakura to pick one. It’s unique, including some fantasy elements, about a struggle between the gods of a forest and the humans living on its edge that consume its resources. The protagonist is cursed by an animal attack, and seeks out a cure from one of the deities. While traveling, he sees other areas in which humans are ravaging the earth and warring with the gods of nature, a thought-provoking contrast considering they’ve just viewed a program detailing the inner mechanisms and wrath of volcanic eruptions, much like gods of nature in their own rights. The conclusion is open-ended; though the hero tries to broker a peace between humanity and the spirits, there is no feeling of resolution or success, no guarantee that one side will mediate with the other. It isn’t quite what he expected it to be, but he notes that the characters were quite realistic, allowing for the viewer to identify with them and better experience what they must be feeling secondhand; it was not told in a detached sort of way as she’d said the book from earlier had been.

Sakura makes earl grey tea, after, and they visit for the better part of another hour, quiet voices awash in auriferous lighting, relaxed by bergamot malt and lemon slices. She inquires about his travels, which places overall were his favorite in the four other great nations. The way she looks at him as he answers makes his heart thump, as if she is hanging on his every word.

It’s near eleven at night by the time he rises for the entryway. The kiss they share before he leaves feels like the drizzle of the rainwater outside, mellow collections grown slowly but surely deeper from time spent together, inexplicably telluric like submerging into soil.

He steps in a few unavoidable collected pools of moisture on his way back to his own apartment, drenching his socks. It makes him feel strangely nostalgic again for some reason, a reminder of a place’s capacity for change, to absorb something and thrive again.

Sasuke has seen many parts of the world now, absorbed as much as he can through his brother’s eyes, and has just relived his favorites by describing them to Sakura. She didn’t ask him about his favorite place in the Land of Fire, though.

It may easily become Sakura’s apartment.

XXX

When he sinks into slumber, he is pulled further downwards into a memory from a very long time ago, something quondam that has since dissolved.

The recollection is hazy in the ways that dreams are, slightly murky as if he is viewing it through a puddle tinged with the loam of Konoha, but perhaps there is something about Sharingan vision even unactivated that embeds the visual acuity into one’s optic nerves, to live there in perpetuity for eventual retrospect. It is one of his earliest memories, he thinks; he would have been maybe four, meaning Itachi had to have been nine or ten, though there is no one he can ask to confirm.

There had been a summer monsoon, perhaps the first one he was old enough to remember, water temperate enough to exult in without catching cold. Their mother warned them not to be outside too long in the storm, and occupied the covered porch, observing them to make sure they heeded her will. There had been no precipitation for a while prior - he thinks there may have been a drought - so the moisture was welcome. Plashets collected in their sprawling yard, causing Mikoto Uchiha’s prized white lilies to appear as if they were emerging from small lakes. She had expressed concern that they may drown upon Sasuke’s examination of them, framing the boundary of their home, but he, in that naive viridity that small children have before the world beats it out of them, thought they were strong enough to persevere.

“I’m sure you’re right, Sasuke,” his brother had said supportively, before showing him a path that allowed a step in every puddle on their family’s grounds. They had raced to the far end of their property and back; he had clumsily fallen at the end of the first pass, getting soaked, as if he wasn’t already from the warm rain coating both of them from the ashen sky above. Mud stuck between his toes, squelching and cushioning his fall while simultaneously making him filthy. It had sloughed off so easily back then in the deluge, corroding all at once and bleeding into the mess of their yard to immediate murky liquidity.

Itachi helped him up by his left hand, getting covered in his muck before the water rinsed their digits clean, and then he was being challenged to a second sprint. Sasuke emerged victorious this time, though now, looking back with eyes that are not his own, he realizes his brother obviously let him win, trained Shinobi that he was by that point. Coming to terms with that is horrifying, because he can see now that his brother was still just a child, wisdom beyond his years be damned. Sasuke is sure Itachi would have to have killed people on missions by then, completely at odds with the soft-spoken and gentle countenance he portrayed at home.

Eventually there was enough drizzle that miniature rivers of connected pools formed, capillaries of nourishment interlacing everything. Sasuke had been fascinated by the changing landscape, until Itachi had ambled up to the porch to speak with their mother. Disappointment swept into him like a tide; he had thought that his brother didn’t want to play with him anymore. But then their mother had risen and gone indoors, and Itachi motioned for him to join him at the edge, beneath the awning.

She came back carrying a small pile of paper, which confused him. He’d watched, enthralled, as Itachi folded one of the pieces into something reminiscent of a boat, simple yet perfect.

“If you put them by the gutter, the force will push them sailing across the yard,” his brother had said; he remembers the inflection so clearly, strange because it is from a time when Itachi was young enough to have the voice of a child, so unlike the rich timbre he’d held later in life.

He had trailed after his brother to the gutter, and sure enough, the paper boat was propelled by the rain streaming down from the roof; it took off as soon as Itachi let go. Sasuke had stomped after it with approximately zero grace, mud coating him up to his ankles, until it reached the boundary fence, saturated through and less buoyant due to the barrage of droplets dampening it from above.

The absolute joy he felt, when he had sprinted back to tug on his brother’s sleeve to ask if he would show him how to make one, and he’d agreed. They’d returned to the pile of paper guarded from the elements by their mother, and Itachi showed him each step, creating another one alongside him as an example. His small hands were not very coordinated back then; his boat hadn’t turned out as nice, all wrinkled sloppiness instead of crisp, clean folds.

“You just need more practice,” Itachi had murmured. “My first one was messy, too. I’ll help you.”

Larger hands had closed around his, creating skillful creases and shaping with dexterity. The second boat turned out much better. Sasuke had given his first one to his mother, then, so she could race, too. Remembering the smile, the genuine look of motherly gratitude she’d given him, bruises something in his soul, precipitation on frail roots entombed deep; it reminds him of the struggle of swallowing a gulp of water after traipsing through the desert, dry mouth making it almost painful, a gargantuan effort that takes everything in him not to look away.

She’d followed them from the porch over to the corner eaves, staying under the cover to avoid getting drenched, and the three of them had released their creations. Sasuke thinks they had to have given him a small headstart, surrendering theirs just after his, so his boat would make it to the other end of the yard first. He’d run after it, Itachi meandering along behind him at a slower pace, while their mother stayed beneath the awning.

His brother had smiled at him as he jumped puddle to puddle in glee. They’d grabbed the now-soaked paper boats at the conclusion of their path, and brought them up to the porch to set in a pile. Then they constructed and raced more, a veritable treasure of a late morning. For his last of the day, Sasuke had tried folding one on his own again, and it turned out better than his first attempt. Though a little lopsided, it hadn’t capsized, sailing strong in the current unaided just like Itachi’s.

Their mother had made them shower and then drawn them a hot bath after, to ensure they were clean and warmed. She had parted his toes to get the mud stuck there out, soil spiraling and dissolving down the drain as he watched. He’d splashed Itachi in the bath after, and folded one more boat with a piece of paper his mother brought him, so he could see how much time it took for it to sink without getting flooded from above, an experiment in buoyancy.

She made miso soup with rice for a late lunch, with something from their aunt and uncle’s shop as a treat after, some variety of warmed pastry. Itachi had let him try his in addition to his own; Sasuke’s had been strawberry, but Itachi’s tasted of peach, gooey sweetness to top off a perfect day that wasn’t even over yet. Their mother must have made herself some tea, too; he remembers the aroma of jasmine filling the space, warmed by lamplight cast on dark wood. When she’d told Sasuke it was time for a nap, he’d become extremely sullen, because he didn’t want to sleep; he’d wanted to spend more time with his brother. It wasn’t often he was home for a full day, prodigy that he was by then and always on missions.

Itachi had surprised him. “I’ll take a nap, too. It's important to rest sometimes. You can join me, Sasuke.” His refusal morphed instantaneously to greedy acceptance. Sasuke crawled into bed with his brother in his room, huddled in the comforter for warmth as the deluge continued for hours, the dousing on their roof and peaceful breathing composing a conciliating symphony with which to lull him to sleep. Eventually he'd succumbed, tuckered out and content, though he'd tried to stay awake as long as he could so he didn't miss out on time with Itachi.

Ten year olds don't usually take naps. His brother may have feigned sleep just to get him to do as their mother wanted. That realization is trenchant, too, sharp like a blade, because it’s a cycle that would repeat itself until Itachi’s end, Sasuke never understanding until the moment had passed, always a step behind and looking backward instead of forward.

When he’d awakened later in the evening, he’d smelled food cooking, miyabi soup and some kind of grilled fish. Itachi hadn’t been beside him anymore, but after blinking groggily, his brother had appeared like an apparition in the door frame.

“Dinner’s almost ready, Sasuke.”

Drizzle is still pummeling his apartment building when he rouses in a dark bedroom, alone. No one appears in the door frame this time as he blinks unsteadily, throat choked before the silent tears come, because this memory aches, haunting his heart like some kind of drowned spectre, dripping muddy stains onto clean floors. Sasuke moves to wipe them away with his left hand, the one Itachi used to help him up from the mire, until he remembers that he doesn’t have a left hand anymore. Making a paper boat now would take twice as long.

Everything in him hurts, marcid marrow writhing in his bones as if they are dead roots that have gotten a drink after a decade spent in drought, someone trying to nurse something deceased or rotting back to life. He goes to the memorial stone under the tenebrose cover of two in the morning, but it doesn’t feel like his brother is there. All he has of him are the eyes drowning in his sockets and excruciating retrospection, intermixing with the rain soaking him outwardly.

I miss you, he thinks as he tries not to asphyxiate on the memory, hoping that his mother at least hears his thoughts here, echoed in the ponds collecting around the stone that bears her name. He has to leave eventually, because he starts picturing white lilies emerging from miniature lakes, full of life and swaying with wind and torrent, instead of cold and motionless grey granite, and he thinks he is going to start sobbing.

Sasuke returns to his apartment after the better part of an hour and stares out his living room window, nursing a miniscule cup of sencha tea, weak so as not to unsettle him too much. The weather lets up eventually, turning from a drench to a drip between the fine branches of the cherry blossom tree across the street. The puddles slowly begin to sink in, though there are remnants of dirt collected in the grooves of the pathways due to the overflow. The tree is starting to lose its petals; they float atop the collected areas of water, a hint of hope buoyant atop sorrow like a paper boat.

He isn't at all hungry, but Sakura said he should try to gain weight, so he forces down a very early breakfast of plain rice, tasteless, before he goes to rifle through the box in the closet. He averts his eyes as he lifts the lid, fumbling to turn the photo upside down without looking at it and moving it to the bottom of the container before sifting through Sakura’s letters.

He picks a favorite of his, one she wrote to him while he was passing through the Land of Savanna, the first autumn season of his journey.

Sasuke-kun,

I was so happy to see your hawk on the horizon today. I gave him some water since he had a long journey.

The way you described the grasslands changing color in Savanna was lovely. The trees are changing here, too, shedding all of their leaves and making the roads a sea of color. Naruto slipped on a scarlet one the other day coming out of Ichiraku’s. He almost dragged Hinata with him, but thankfully no one was hurt. That's providence, I suppose, though it's not a red thread.

Soon it will be the season for chestnut-flavored everything. Stout squirrels come next, and Tsukimi will be happening, too. I've only ever seen it here in Konoha and once in Sand, while we were on a mission. You'll have to tell me if the moon looks any different where you are. Don't forget to make a wish.

The air is turning crisp here, like the leaves, so I imagine it will be there, too. Please stay warm.

I miss you.

-Sakura

Sasuke comes to the realization then that he’s sitting in damp clothes, and that he is kind of cold; he hadn't thought to grab his cloak earlier, too overcome with mourning. He carefully puts the letter back, and makes the decision to take a hot shower. The heat makes him feel incrementally better, thawing him from the inside out. It also makes him realize his mouth feels dry; he’s probably dehydrated, and needs to drink more than a weakly brewed half glass of tea. He prepares another cup, stronger this time.

A mission summons arrives around nine. He uses the mirror of his bathroom to make sure he doesn't look too disheveled - the shower helped, he thinks, though he’s slightly pallid - before heading to the Hokage’s office.

He's the first one of those requested to arrive, though not by much. Naruto is sitting in his designated chair with the scroll again, looking for all intents and purposes like he just woke up.

"Teme?! Eh, really?!" The dobe turns in his chair to glare metaphorical daggers at Kakashi, who pointedly ignores him. "You're seriously not sending me with?! Bogus."

Kakashi simply inclines his head towards him, not even sparing Naruto a glance. "Sasuke. Good morning. Ready for a mission?"

He nods mutely, wondering what it could be. Naruto whines some more, but Sasuke tunes him out. There's nothing like his teammate’s complaining that grinds on him in the morning, though he’ll inwardly admit it is helping to coax him back into some sense of normalcy.

His replacement walks through the Hokage’s door next, impassive as always. He inclines his head politely at Sasuke, so he returns the gesture. Naruto heaves a sigh. "Oh, come on!"

Sai doesn't miss a beat, turning to Kakashi, absolutely devoid of any kind of emotion as he delivers Sasuke’s favorite invective. "Is Dickless not coming?"

Sasuke barely manages to suppress a snort as Naruto guffaws, launching an entire container of pens at Sai. "STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Not all of Sai's nicknames are poorly chosen. He loathes the one he has for Sakura, but Sasuke doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing Naruto’s. It improves his mood measurably.

Shikamaru Nara saunters through the doors last, looking extremely apathetic already. Shrewd eyes flick to Sasuke’s momentarily, too quickly for him to read anything from them, then to Sai’s, then to the pens Naruto is picking off the floor, before settling on Kakashi.

Interesting. So it’s the escort mission, after all.

Naruto is outright mad now, glowering but past the point of saying anything as he returns to his seat in silence. It seems he at least knows when to give up, these days.

"Now that I have you all here, I'm afraid I must break the news that this won't be a terribly exciting mission. Simple escort to Sand for our diplomat tomorrow. It may be a bit… overkill, but there will only be three of you on the return trip, and my newest batch of missions didn't have anything terribly exciting in it. It's better to complete something useful with enough time to get back in case we need you for bigger tickets next week; it can't be helped." Kakashi shrugs, before adding, "Sending Sai should shorten the trip and make it less taxing, at least, flying birds and all. Shikamaru will lead, like usual."

Kakashi goes on to disclose that they'll be leaving at dawn tomorrow. Apparently it's only a four day round trip with his replacement's jutsu involved; this means they’ll leave on Tuesday morning and be back on Friday evening, should nothing go awry. It’s not likely that it will; Suna and Konoha are strong allies at this point.

“Any questions?” Kakashi asks at the end of the briefing. Neither Shikamaru nor Sai say anything; he doesn’t, either. An escort is simple enough, especially one of a fellow Shinobi.

His old sensei smiles in a way Sasuke feels is directed mostly at Shikamaru. “Alright, then. Dismissed.”

Nara strolls lackadaisically out of the office as Sai follows. Sasuke gets the inkling that this will be a rather silent journey, between the three of them. He’s a bit thankful he hasn’t been assigned a mission with more talkative comrades, at least not for his first one back.

“Teme!” Naruto pipes up as he turns to leave as well, so Sasuke lingers. “Wanna spar this evening?”

His brows knit together while Kakashi looks between them, as if amused. Sakura has not invited him over for the evening, but he thinks of soft words yesterday anyway.

I missed you, when you were gone. You… can fill as much of my free time as you’d like.

“The day before a mission? You’re stupid. Pass.” Sasuke says, both because he’s hoping to spend the twilight hours with her, too, but also because he knows it will annoy the hell out of Naruto. They really shouldn't go all out the night before one of them leaves for a mission anyways; if one of them breaks something, Sakura will be stuck fixing it, and it’s supposed to be her day off.

Naruto looks miffed, a lone blond brow twitching, so he adds, “...Saturday, early morning. If you’re even awake. Dobe. ”

Before he turns away from Naruto’s spluttering, he catches an all too knowing gleam in Kakashi’s visible eye. Sasuke is suddenly sure that their old sensei is well-acquainted with Sakura’s work schedule. He can feel the hole being burned into the back of his head by blue eyes and a single dark one as he leaves the Hokage’s office, the dobe still struggling to come up with a response to his quick refusal.

He feels marginally better as he walks leisurely back to his apartment, noting along the way that more of the puddles are already beginning to dry up.

Sasuke fixes something more substantial for lunch, since he knows Sakura will eat with Ino; a chicken curry, fragrant with garlic and ginger and carrots, poured atop rice. He doesn’t have any potatoes, so he substitutes with other produce, a unique mix for curry; bell peppers, green onions, and burdock roots. It’s not bad, but maybe he’ll pick up some potatoes when he gets back from Sand.

He is looking forward to going on a mission again, he realizes as he eats. It’s probably going to be a rather routine one - it’s not likely that they’ll face any enemies in friendly territory - but it will be good to be amongst allies again, contributing to fulfilling a purpose, however slight. Sasuke thinks maybe he should make more of an effort to interact with Sai. It appears as though he and Sakura are close, if he’s been to her apartment; Ino was there, too, he supposes, but still.

Sasuke spends the remainder of his time doing the dishes and making sure everything in his fridge is wrapped well, to ensure it doesn’t spoil in the time that he’s gone.

XXX

Sakura’s hair is damp, pink more saturated than it normally is, when he meets her on her doorstep; she must have showered. The scent of mixed berries is renewed, and suddenly he is certain that it has to be some kind of soap, perhaps a body wash. She has her single fiction book in hand.

“Hi,” she says, grinning up at him with a disarming beauty that makes his heart skip. Her hair clings to her neck when she locks her door behind her; Sasuke focuses on a ranunculus bloom instead, noticing that there are two small cuttings of the flowers missing, taken from its rear portion, until she turns back around.

“...Hi.”

“How was your morning?” She questions kindly as they make their way down the stairs and out the glass door, spring sunshine filtering in.

He blinks once as he considers how to answer. “...Fine. I had a mission briefing.”

Sakura’s lips quirk upwards. “Anything exciting?”

He exhales through his nose, a shadow of a laugh. “No. Just an escort.”

Jade eyes twinkle. “Ah, I’m guessing… Sai and Shikamaru.”

“...Kakashi might listen to your squad suggestions more than Naruto’s.”

She chuckles a little. “No, it’s just that he usually sends them for that. You must have replaced Naruto; he’s the third squad cell member, most of the time. Sai’s jutsu makes it a quicker journey, especially with Temari’s fan techniques; she can create updrafts.”

Sasuke thinks he vaguely remembers a blonde woman who is Gaara’s sister; that must be the diplomat. The sibling of the Kazekage would be well-suited for such a job.

“...Maybe I’ll find out what’s in Sand.”

She smiles while biting her lip. She’s very pretty.

“Maybe,” she finally offers cryptically.

They weave through the road on their way to the library, taking care to avoid the water still lingering; it has sunken into the earth for the most part by now.

Sasuke checks out three books this time. One is another on historical samurai, this one with more illustrations as he’d wanted. The second is a historical account of the establishment of Nunogakure, in the Land of Silk. He had passed through the country twice, and had always been interested in learning more about its history, given the establishment of its hidden village by kunoichi and their record of hostility with the ruling daimyos. The third is a fiction book about an old man at sea, suggested to him by Ichika as she scans Sakura’s books, then his.

“It’s kind of proverbial, and not terribly lengthy. You seem like the type who would like it,” the librarian offers, so he adds it to his pile. It’s not quite an old lady giving him vaguely prophesying teacups, but it sounds interesting enough. He appreciates her kindness; not everyone in Konoha gives him this particular brand of easy acceptance after the debacle that was his past. Sasuke thinks perhaps showing up with Sakura helps. Ichika looks at his empty sleeve for a long moment this time; she must not have noticed the last time he was here, the unfilled end of it hidden by the counter.

Sakura says there’s a spot towards the slope of Hokage Rock that drains off the cliff, a hill that should be dry enough to sit on, so they meander upwards. It’s on the western side, just at the juncture where the grass begins to give way to harsher stone. A wild cherry blossom tree that he spotted from a half mile away is clinging to the precipice, a bit off the beaten path. It must have sturdy roots, he thinks, reaching deep into the dirt and bedrock to give it the strength to soar upwards even here on uneven ground.

As they near it, he observes that it’s losing its petals, too, late in blooming like the one across the street from his apartment; small green buds are starting to take the flowers’ place.

They read for a bit under its branches, sprawled out on the hillside. She was right; the ground is dry here, already soaked into the soil or run off the slope. It’s not too warm or cool out, an enjoyable spring day where everything is freshly watered. The book Ichika recommended is pretty good, full of oceanic metaphors, some of which he finds unnervingly relevant. Sakura might like it; it’s written somewhat artfully. He gets about a third of the way through its pages as the sun begins to hang lower in the sky.

It’s around four when he allows his focus to wander away from his book to her. He's been leaning up against the tree, in the only spot someone could; the rest of the area by the trunk is too asperous to sit comfortably, roots twisting ruggedly, but strong. Much stronger than white lilies, hardy enough to weather even the harshest storms. Sakura is on her back a few feet away, book open above her and pink hair settled in a halo on the grass. She looks extremely comfortable, as if lying like this in the small amount of shade offered is something she does all the time. Maybe this is a place she visits often.

Her book is titled Hazel Wood; he can tell by the cover it must be fiction, but he's not sure what exactly it's about. He's thinking maybe he’ll ask her later. He's also thinking maybe he should ask if she wants to do something after this; he would like to, if she's free.

She shifts slightly, and he slides his eyes to the skyline so he doesn't get caught staring, very suddenly becoming conscious of the fact that he’s been admiring her for the better part of a few minutes. When he looks back over warily, she is picking up a stray petal and situating it between the pages, sticking out like a bookmark to mark her place. Then she regards him, smiling like she's amused.

He arches a brow, unsure what could be funny, but she's setting her closed book neatly aside and pushing afoot to close the distance between them. He tilts his head up towards her as she walks to the tree trunk, and then she's reaching out. Two fingertips skim his scalp, and then she's handing him a cherry blossom petal that evidently had been caught there.

"A bookmark, if you want one," she offers, her expression saying she is incredibly entertained.

He blinks once before taking it, lone hand brushing hers for a millisecond. He's distracted by how soft her fingertips feel again.

"...Thank you." He puts the petal in his book to mark his spot as she straightens.

Now would be an opportune time to query her evening plans, but she beats him to it. "Would you want to stop by the market quick with me and then come over for dinner?" Comely green melts into charcoal when he looks up. "I was thinking of making teriyaki atsuage and cucumber salad, but I'm out of cucumber."

His agreement is immediate, insides twisting pleasantly.

As they head down the hill together to beat the evening rush, books in hand, a single crow passes overhead, swooping low towards the center of the village extending before them.

That’s providence, he thinks, though it’s not a red thread. He stares at it like he’s seen a ghost until it disappears.

He helps her cook this time. Sakura handles the cutting and chopping while Sasuke seasons and turns the tofu as it fries in one of her pans, mixing together mirin and soy sauce to create the teriyaki dressing while she slices cucumbers and tosses them with other ingredients; she loads the salad with peanuts, sauces, garlic, and red chile flakes.

It’s another gratifying evening together. They play three rounds of chess this time, and it’s just as challenging as go; she cycles through positions intuitively, sometimes with seemingly little thought involved. Sasuke thinks she might be analyzing her next moves in her head during his turns, having a few planned out and simply narrowing it down based on whether he moves a rook or a pawn. He comes close to winning the final match, at least. With more practice, he might win once in a while.

Sakura offers to make tea again, after. He accompanies her to the kitchen, and when she opens the cupboard, his throat closes, because two new jars of loose leaf sencha from the tea shop have mysteriously appeared, one for the caffeinated shelf and one for the decaffeinated shelf.

Sakura’s expression is tentative. “I thought maybe sencha this evening. I… picked some up on my way back from lunch, earlier today.”

He nods weakly, tongue-tied and endlessly grateful.

She makes some for the both of them, finishing off her own with sugar and honey. Sasuke watches her swirl the spoon in the now fading luster of her kitchen, thinking the way she takes her tea is like her very being, so sweet.

Verdant eyes peek up at him when she walks him to her entryway, hours later. He sincerely hopes that she’s enjoying spending time with him as much as he is with her.

Then, Sakura’s voice lilts up to him, a quiet murmur, "Will you… come see me, when you get back?"

He blinks, sugar and honey pouring into him now, because it’s almost an answer to the question in his head that he hadn’t vocalized. Then his brow furrows, because maybe he’s failed at conveying that he'll spend literally any amount of time with her that she allows him. Sasuke knows his communication skills aren’t the best, and he has never been in any sort of romantic relationship, so everything is new territory, stunted by his lack of practice.

Her gaze flits away from him. "Just… so I know you're okay."

Oh. She means coming to see her right after debriefing, so she'll know he's returned safe. Something pleasant pools in his belly, sinking to the extremities in a way that feels nurturing. He realizes he is taking too much time to respond; she looks nervous.

"I will."

Jade centers back on him, reassured now, and he's not sure how he's going to go four days without it, this limitless green that soothes him to no end.

"Oh. Good. Thank you." Her expression changes to one that is considerably more relaxed, a tender look directed upwards that he has never seen her wear for anyone else.

Sasuke presses his lips to hers for a long time before he departs, a soft goodbye he’s hoping will convey all the words that are caught in his throat, gratitude and affection that have been stewing there since they were thirteen.

He thinks he feels love press back from hers, a delicate flickering that makes him ache, and perhaps providence. Sugar and honey, too. Sweetness doesn’t hurt him like the recall of pastries does, when it’s experienced secondhand like this.

XXX

The mission goes smoothly. Sai's jutsu does speed things up considerably, and the Sand delegate, Temari, uses her giant fan to give them a boost in places that are lacking in higher gales. He rides with Sai on the way there, while Shikamaru and Temari drift on the other; Sasuke thinks the separation must be so she can use the jutsu, strategically getting behind his replacement's bird to give him a boost before Sai can control it and have theirs catch the subsequent updraft, too.

Sasuke and Shikamaru fulfill lookout roles, him scanning ahead and Shikamaru scanning behind. It is refreshing to see the land from above, giving way from forests to grasslands to the beginnings of desert edges. He finds himself thinking about what his hawk saw, all of the times he brought correspondence to and from Sakura. It’s not as hot this way, traveling through the air with breeze ripping around them, though they make an effort to stay hydrated, still.

Sai is quiet, but Sasuke is, too, so he can't knock him for it. He wonders, scanning the horizon for the upteenth time, if Sai knows what's in Sand that interests their squad leader. He would have to, dating Ino, but he doesn't feel comfortable asking him something like that.

They spend most of the first day in relative silence, only spying a single squad of comrade ninja from Suna traveling hundreds of feet below them, just leaving the desert. Towards the end of it, as they finally cross into the first area that is truly all sand as far as the eye can see, Sai surprises him by speaking.

"Beautiful says Ugly is stupid happy that you've returned. I am certain that Dickless is, too."

The effect the words have on him is a little jarring and complex. There is the immediate familiar disdain for Sai’s inaccurate nickname for Sakura, intermixed with immature amusement at Naruto's epithet. A feeling of brotherhood follows, and his heart blooming with something tender, vines twisting or perhaps not-so-dead roots getting another drink. Stupid happy doesn’t sound like a phrase common to Sai’s vernacular, leading him to believe it was Ino’s exact wording, likely after spending the morning with Sakura yesterday.

He thinks it over as they soar over the last bit of terrain for the day, sorting through the different emotions. His answer isn't hesitant; it just takes preparation for him to muster the gall to vocalize it to someone he's not terribly close to.

"...I am, too." It’s an understatement.

XXX

They arrive back in Konoha on Friday evening, as scheduled. No issues, just more lookout duty and enjoyable wind offering relief from the heat. Peacetime is nice; anyone they saw to or from Sand was an ally, no foes. They only utilize one of Sai’s creations on the return trip, Shikamaru still observing the rear but this time atop the same bird as them. It’s a slightly longer trip, without the diplomat to speed things up, but they still make good time.

It's a bit after six when they leave Kakashi’s office, mission report paperwork folded neatly into his satchel. Naruto wasn't there; Sasuke assumes he's either been sent on a mission or has gone home for the day already. He supposes he’ll find out tomorrow, if a banging erupts on his apartment door after sunrise. It must have stormed again recently; the soil is damp, and everything is faintly greener than it was before.

He finds he missed it, the smell just after it rains that was decidedly not present in Suna, even if it does bring hard memories.

“Good work,” Shikamaru says simply to both of them as they step outside, ready to go their respective ways. It’s not necessary for him to say it, but Sasuke appreciates the acknowledgement. He’s aware it is probably not easy to trust him, after everything. Not everyone has the same confidence in him as Team Seven does.

Sai nods towards Shikamaru, then turns to him.

"Tell Ugly I say hi." His tone sounds almost kind as he turns to part ways from them in the street. Shikamaru glances at Sasuke for an instant, expression not containing an ounce of surprise, but he doesn't say anything as he turns to head the other way.

Tentatively, Sasuke starts out in the direction of Sakura’s apartment. She should be home right now, if she didn’t stay late at the hospital. He wonders as he gets closer if maybe he should wait a bit; she might be in the middle of cooking, or eating dinner.

He wants to see her, though. He's missed her greatly, and she did say to come by; he tries very hard to swallow his doubts.

Soon he's knocking on a sage green door that is beginning to look familiar. The plants are still damp indoors, too; maybe it rained as recently as this morning. It has to have been overcast for a good portion of the day, for the sunlight through the diamond window to not have dried the moisture from her watering them just yet.

Sakura opens the door wearing a smile; it grows wider upon seeing it's him, like she can’t help it.

His heart skips a beat when she says his name. "Sasuke-kun."

"Sakura."

She steps aside while holding the door open, a silent invitation for him to come in, so he does. He stands in her entryway uncertainly for a second, until she offers, "I'm making tenmusu; there's enough for two. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Everything in him relaxes, any and all ambiguity dried by her kindness in an instant. "...I would. Thank you."

Little flecks of gold shimmer in the lamplight, facets atop something burgeoning with warmth. There is love there, in her eyes and upturned lips. He wonders if she can see it in his, if she has any idea of the true gravity of his feelings for her, all of the things that flare to life in his belly at the mere thought of time spent here.

It’s a break in routine, but there is something he would really like to do, something he has been working up the courage for over the past few days, so he takes the risk, pulse quickening; he hasn't kissed her anything but farewell yet, really, aside from their first, which was somewhere in the middle.

It is better than he imagined, vespertine devotion saying hello rather than goodbye. He skims the freckle on her cheek again as his lips brush hers, hand tender against her skin and silky pink locks. When she leans into his touch, he finds himself wishing there was a way for his soul to graze hers, to tell her the utterly selfish thing he wished for after her letter so many moons ago. Sakura’s soul would be warm to the touch, he thinks, like freshly-brewed tea or the flux of a summer monsoon, but much more illimitable, and endlessly ardent.

Her hands on his shoulders are becoming a familiar weight, grounding him like the roots of her namesake.

When they part, she blinks up at him once, and then suddenly her arms are wrapping around his center instead of his shoulders, pulling him close. His heart swells, and he hooks his lone arm around her waist.

She smells like home, he realizes. "...Tadaima," he murmurs against her hair.

"Okaeri," she responds, soft and sweet against his chest.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #like gold #fanfiction #2nd longest chapter to date idk how it got this long it just kinda happened lmao #also the paper boats scene was like one of the first four passages i wrote that ultimately became this fic #anyways that's providence

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lorei-writes · 3 years

Text

Match-Up #30

And this concludes the third round of match-ups! @cailann ready yourself... Or your OC, ah.

Let’s start with being fearless! I believe it would be more so treasured by daring suitors, those who tend to risk plenty themselves... But that it would also push away those who’d worry too much, or those who consider such things stupidity.

Nobunaga (+1) Hideyoshi (-1) Masamune (+1) Ieyasu (-1) Kenshin (-1)

Now, empathetic+nurturing+caring combo! First, abundance of empathy may be necessary when dealing with suitors who struggle with their own feelings. Being nurturing and caring, on the other side, could potentially aid in helping such love interests out, or much rather, existing with them without feeling burned out... However, I reckon it could also backfire splendidly and that it may be good to look towards equally giving candidates.

Hideyoshi (+1) Mitsunari (+2) Masamune (+2) Ieyasu (+2) Shingen (+2) Yukimura (+1)

Lastly, intelligence! Easy! Let’s look towards warlords who do appreciate that in the partner a lot, especially those who are more so intellectual themselves.

Nobunaga (+1) Mitsuhide (+1) Mitsunari (+1) Masamune (+1) Shingen (+1)

Arrogant? Ah, well... I suppose there is a certain warlord who would agitate that a lot, and perhaps another one that would find it rather amusing. Hmm... Oh, and one who may simply not realise he is triggering it, since he only wants everything best for her, yes.

Nobunaga (-1) Mitsuhide (-1) Hideyoshi (-1)

Moody, as in dealing with mood swings? I suppose somebody patient and empathetic could be a good idea, preferably somebody who would not panic as it happens. Perhaps somebody who isn’t easily set off themselves?

Mitsuhide (+1) Shingen (+1) Yukimura (-1)

Ah, another one against ore-samas! Being a free spirit, yes, yes, that could certainly work with those who do appreciate freedom themselves, or... Do need a wake up call sometimes.

Masamune (+1) Kenshin (+1)

Trust issues? Hmm... Well, I suppose it could make it harder for some relationships to even start...

Nobunaga (-1) Mitsuhide (-1) Masamune (-1) Shingen (-1) Yukimura (-1)

Lastly, oversensitive! No sharp tongues allowed! Hmm... I suppose I would even look for somebody who can understand how frail human beings can be. Ah, yes, I also reckon they should be able to understand it rather than need to be walked through every step? For a better success rate, that is.

Nobunaga (-1) Mitsuhide (+1) Masamune (-1) Ieyasu (-1) Kenshin (+1) Shingen (-1) Yukimura (-1)

1st Summary

Masamune (+3) Shingen (+2) Mitsuhide (+1) Mitsunari (+1) Kenshin (+1) Nobunaga (-1) Hideyoshi (-1) Yukimura (-2)

Points distributed for likes:

Nobunaga (+2) - alcohol, sweets Mitsuhide (+1) - alcohol Masamune (+1) - sweets, art, but (-1) for alcohol (he does not prohibit drinking, but drinking with him around could turn problematic, especially if Mitsuhide was also there and wanted some fun) Kenshin (+2) - alcohol, winning in duels (it’s hard to win against him, but sparring with him will probably lead to winning most duels) Shingen (+2) - alcohol, sweets

Should they all get a kick for most men, haha?

Points distributed for dislikes:

Nobunaga (-1) - teasing Hideyoshi (-1) - he can come off as somebody telling MC to be more lady-like, or as somebody treating her according to stereotypical gender roles Mitsuhide (-1) - teasing Masamune (-3) - teasing, flirting, meat (he could be somewhat grumpy about it, after all, it is nutritious and such) Shingen (-2) - flirting, teasing

2nd Summary

Kenshin (+3) Shingen (+2) Mitsuhide (+1) Mitsunari (+1) Masamune (+1) Hideyoshi (-2) Yukimura (-2)

Only characters with positive value by their names will be considered in the final stages of the match-up.

It appears none of the remaining suitors would hit any of the deal breakers!

Mitsunari (+1) - for liking to study as many things as possible

Also good graces, Nobunaga would get an insta-kick here, I don’t read the entire thing before writing, haha.

Ahh, they did not prevail through the trials!

Final Ranking

Kenshin (+3) Shingen & Mitsunari (+2) Mitsuhide & Masamune (+1)

Kenshin

Confessed first: Kenshin, no questions here. He was in his anxious state then, though.

Makes tea in the morning: Kenshin. He generally wakes up first and makes sure to take care of everything.

Hogs blankets at night: She. Quite honestly, it’s partially because Kenshin lets her, and partially because he even encourages it in winter. It is a constant matter of dispute.

Is the little spoon: Depends on who needs it more.

Possible points for conflict: It may sometimes happen that jealousy will spike, guided by anxiety and burning of old scars. Sometimes upholding patience is a hard task, sometimes neither of them knows how to help the other - luckily, they do not have only themselves to depend on.

Free time ideas: Drinking together, sparring matches, strolls through the gardens, playing with bunnies.

Favourite date spot: The gardens, by the pond, at night. Preferably with something delicious to drink.

A secret they share: Sometimes it happens that they know a day will be harsher - they were tired to begin with, some errands piled up, new challenges appeared... Whenever that happens, they will always find an excuse as to why they can’t really attend another banquet, or as for why they really, truly must put off this specific thing in time... And simply go on a date alone.

His favourite thing about her: He loves how compassionate and caring she is towards all things living, especially the animals. Sometimes he wonders how did she even manage to uphold such a heart.

His message to her: “Whenever it hurts, tell me.” “Huh? No, I meant it in every way. I do not want for you to be battling with it all on your own.” “I have demons of my own that I need to fight, I am aware. But it doesn’t mean I will not lend my strength to you when you need me.”

#match-up #ikesen match-up #ikemen sengoku match-up #ikesen #ikemen sengoku

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

Why (Won’t You Love Me) | Elias Pettersson

Summary: Time and time again, Elias watches you get your heart broken by guys who aren’t worth your effort, and he just can’t help but wonder why you can’t love him instead. Words: 3,5k Note: Based on the 5sos song with the same name.

There’s a glow on the pavement, fresh from the rain. Dark clouds are still packed together in the sky when they arrive at the plane, but the rain is mere drizzle now, and Elias doesn’t bother with an umbrella as he hauls his bag over his shoulder.

Brock, of course, has the hood of his jumper pulled tight around his face, and he looks absolutely miserable. Normally Elias would tease him – probably something about his hair – but today he’s not in the mood.

He’s pretty miserable himself.

“Petey, hey.” Brock runs to catch up to him, as they approach the plane. Elias should’ve known Brock would notice: his best friend always seems to know when he shouldn’t be alone. “What’s up, dude?”

Elias huffs out an indignant sound that’s not resembling any English words, and not really any Swedish ones, either. He pulls his eyebrows together in a frown and makes a frustration motion with his hand.

“Y/N…” he says, your name falling off his lips a little rough. “She’s having guy trouble.”

“Ah,” Brock says, like he understands. He probably does.

It’s not the first time Elias is in a mood because of your ‘guy trouble’.

Now it’s not really fair to you, he knows that. You’re not actually aware of the fact that you’re hurting him, by talking about other guys, so he can’t hold it against you.

It’s just…

“Why won’t she love me?” he finally says, as they stand in front of the stairs to the plane, waiting for the others to go in first.

There’s no use pretending, not with Brock. Brock knows him better than anyone and he knows how far gone for you Elias is, how much it hurts that you don’t feel the same way.

Brock shrugs. “She loves you,” he says, but he doesn’t sound quite so sure.

“Not like that.” Elias can’t help sounding a little mopey, and Brock slaps his hard across the back to show his support, in the way that bros do, sometimes.

“Sorry, man,” he says, and he sounds genuinely remorseful.

Elias met you right after he arrived in Vancouver, and he knows it’s cliché to say, but he immediately knew that you were it for him. You made him laugh with some snarky remark at a rude customer in the coffee shop, and that was it. He was sold.

It’s not become anything but friendship, though. And sure, it’s a friendship Elias holds dear to his heart, but he’s not afraid to admit he’s always wanted it to be more. It’s just, he’s never been able to find the words to tell you that.

In the beginning, he blamed his lack of English, but now he knows it’s just you.

You render him speechless. When you look at him with bright eyes, when you say his name. And whenever he thinks about telling you, and thinks about the look of pity on your face and how you would say “Elias…” like you’re the bearer of bad news, he feels like his throat has swollen to the point where talking is impossible.

So he says nothing. But he hates himself for it, every time you sit on his couch and tell him about your failed dating endeavours.

He sits down and takes his phone, to put it on airplane mode. Brock is humming under his breath next to him, and it’s distracting enough that he nearly misses the text notification.

Nearly, but not quite.

Sorry for crying on your shoulder again the text reads.

Elias thinks back to last night, when you’d showed up at his apartment, nearly in tears because the guy you’d gone on a few dates with had cancelled your date and said he’d rather be friends.

“When they say that, they never actually wanna be friends, Petey,” you’d sighed, your bottom lip trembling.

And he’d pulled you inside, parked you on the couch and made you tea, and then you’d watched MasterChef together, your body curled into his, until you weren’t so sad anymore.

He always tried everything to stop you from being sad, and he usually succeeded, too. Taking care of you is one of the things he’s best at, in his opinion.

“I guess finding a decent guy to love around here is just too much to ask,” you’d said, after at least an hour of comfortable silence. “Well, at least I’ve got you, right?”

And Elias had to bite his lip so hard he can still feel where it’s sore, only to stop himself from asking:

Why won’t you love me, instead?

He stares at your text now. Behind it, his background is still visible: a picture of him and you, that he likes to look at when the road is a little too lonely.

“You gotta turn it off, Pete,” Brock says, and that’s when Elias notices the plane is already about to take off.

He quickly texts back “No worries” and switches his phone to airplane mode. The glass of the little round window is cold against his cheek when he leans against it.

It’s gonna be a long road trip.

The bar isn’t busy, but there’s a constant hum of chatter around you, and you try to use that to quiet your mind.

It doesn’t really work.

You’re a few drinks in, and there’s tears burning behind your eyes.

Normally, you would’ve called Elias. But now you don’t feel like you should, anymore.

Elias has been different, since he got back from what felt like the longest road trip in history. He’s been dodging your calls, not texting as much, and you have only seen him once since he got back a week ago, which is not normal for you two.

If you knew why he’s been avoiding you, you could fix it.

But you have no idea.

“Excuse me, can I borrow this chair?” a voice asks. A girl has her hand on the empty chair opposite you, and she smiles at you when you look up.

You open your mouth: something inside of you says no, but you know that’s ridiculous. This is a table for one, tonight.

“Sure.”

It’s not like that guy is gonna show up three hours after he was supposed to.

It’s not your supposed-to-be-date, that you’re thinking about though. Maybe you should be sad about him, because he just stood you up, but instead you’re thinking back to the last time you saw Elias, when he’d just come back. They had won two out of three road games, so he’d been in a good mood, and when you went to his house for pizza and Netflix he’d been chatty and filled with laughter all evening.

His good mood dimmed, when you mentioned you had a date planned.

“Do you know this guy?” he’d asked, and there was a hint of judgement in his voice that instantly got you defensive.

“No, my friend set us up,” you said. “But it’s not like I have a choice, Elias. Time is slipping away from me, and I can’t just sit here and wait for the love of my life to show up while everyone is getting married. It’s no fun being lonely.”

“No,” Elias had said, a strange look on his face. “It’s not fun.”

You would’ve asked him what he meant by that – surely he wasn’t lonely, being Elias Pettersson in Vancouver – but there was something about him that stopped you.

For the first time since you met him, it felt like there was a wall up between you, and it felt like for every stone the wall was made off there was a matching stone in the pit of your stomach.

It felt like you did something wrong, but you can’t put your finger on what. You hadn’t lied to him, although it hadn’t quite been the full truth either. You can’t tell him the full truth, because the full truth is too pathetic.

The full truth, of course, being that when your other best friend Liza got engaged, you realized that everyone had someone, except for you. You just had Elias, and that has always been enough: until you sat there staring at the giant diamond on Liza’s finger and realized that Elias was never going to feel that way about you.

He’s your best friend, and although you’d want him to be everything, if he was interested in more, he would’ve done something by now. And so you decided you had to stop waiting for someone who would never love you like that, and find someone who would.

You haven’t found that person, yet, and you haven’t gotten over Elias either.

You look at your phone now. It’s 2am, and you probably shouldn’t call him, but…

But it’s Elias. He’s your best friend and you know he cares for you, even if he is mad about something.

You just got stood up, and it’s late, and you’ve had a bit too much to drink, and you don’t really want to have to walk yourself home…

“You can always call me if you need anything,” Elias said all the time. “Even in the middle of the night.”

So you call him.

There’s no answer. There’s no answer the next time, or the next, either.

You throw some money on the table. It’s time to take yourself home: after all, you’ve always been able to take care of yourself. There’s no reason for this burning feeling behind your eyes.

He’s just a friend.

The next morning, there’s two texts waiting for you when you wake up.

3 missed calls? Everything OK?

Sorry I missed them. Have to go to practice now, talk later.

There’s no smileys, no familiar XO’s that Elias has been using since Brock forced him to watch Gossip Girl, no love you at the end.

So that’s how you know something is really wrong.

Creating some distance between you is harder than Elias had thought.

“She hates me,” he grumbles. It’s probably not the right time to do this, in the middle of practice, but he’s been distracted and since this is all Brock’s fault, he figures he should just say that.

“She doesn’t,” Brock says. “Also, how is this my fault?”

Elias leans on his stick. They’re both waiting until it’s their turn to do the drill. Jake skates past, shoots on Marky. Scores.

“You said I needed some distance. You said to put my phone on airplane mode every now and then. Last night she called me three times and I didn’t answer, and now she hates me.”

Brock rolls his eyes, ever so slightly: but enough for Elias to see, and he glares at his best friend.

He feels a little vindicated when Brock flushes red and shuffles a little away from Elias.

“Look, bud, I said that because you’ve been miserable.” Brock’s face is gentle. “But since this is clearly not working, have you thought about just talking to her?”

He has thought about that. A lot.

“Absolutely not,” Elias says. “She’s not interested in me, she’s made that clear by dating half of Vancouver.”

Brock laughs. “I didn’t know Vancouver had 6 people living in it.”

“Shut up.” But there’s no heat behind it, and Brock shuffles closer again.

“Petey.” He sounds remorseful. “You haven’t scored even once today. And Marky’s not even trying. You need to fix this.”

At that moment, his name gets called, so Elias shoves Brock aside and skates up to the puck, taking it with him towards the goal.

He shoots wide.

Fuck. Maybe he does have to do something about this.

Elias may have decided he needs to talk to you, but he sure as hell doesn’t have to do it right now. He’s allowed to go home and get changed first, because he’s not going to confess his love and get his heart broken while wearing a Canucks tracksuit.

Unfortunately, it ends up not really being his choice, because when he walks into the hallway of his apartment you’re sitting on the floor, leaning against his front door.

Elias stops dead at the end of the hallway.

You’re doing something on your phone, not noticing him right away. You look tired, and your hair is a mess, and it squeezes something in Elias’ heart.

You look… kinda like shit, and whereas Elias knows he probably doesn’t look much better himself, it’s worse when it’s you.

Suddenly, guilt washes over him like a tidal wave. You needed him last night, and he wasn’t there for you. It was 2 am when you called him: you could’ve been anywhere, anything could’ve happened, you could’ve gotten hurt.

Suddenly he’s walking, faster and faster, until he reaches you.

You look up, and when you see him, there’s a small smile curling at the edge of your lips. But you don’t look happy, and Elias’ worry only intensifies.

“Hey,” he says, reaching out his hand. You let him help you pull you to your feet, but then you drop his hand right away.

It stings.

“Can I come in?” you ask. Your voice is small and you’re fretting with the edge of your shirt.

“Of course.” Elias opens the door, lets you walk in first. Normally, you would kick off your shoes at the door and throw yourself on his couch, or immediately dive head first into his fridge. You don’t do that now, and it’s wrong: everything feels wrong, and Elias hates it.

If he could make it go back to the way it was, he would do anything for it to stay that way. He would ignore his feelings, he would push them away. He would answer the phone.

He wouldn’t hurt you like this.

“Are you okay?” he blurts out. He regrets it instantly, because your face falls even more.

He should’ve eased into it. He should’ve let you say what you came to say, first.

“I’m so sorry for not answering the phone,” he continues, helplessly, because you’re not saying anything and the silence is too much for him to take. “I put my phone on airplane mode and I shouldn’t have done that, you needed me and I should’ve been there for you and…”

“Elias.” Your voice is soft, but stern. Your hand reaches out, fingers curling around his wrist. “Calm down. I’m fine, nothing happened last night.”

Something heavy dissolves in the pit of Elias’ stomach, and for the first time that day, he feels like he can breathe.

“I’m just…” you pause, sigh. Then you stand a little taller, something determined settling over your features. “I just want to know what I did wrong.”

“Huh?” Elias can imagine he must be staring at you pretty blankly, but he truly just doesn’t get it. “What you did wrong?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t play dumb. I know you’re mad at me. So tell me what I did wrong, so I can fix it.”

Elias can feel it: the energy shifting in the room. There’s something harsh in your eyes, and he knows you came here looking for resolve as much as you came here looking for a fight.

Fighting, he figures, is a way to feel things, too. But he’s not about to let you do that to yourself, especially when it’s his fault.

“Y/N,” he says, softly, and then he shakes his wrist out of your grip and takes your hand in his, instead. Your hand is cold, skin soft, and he immediately decides he wants to hold your hand for the rest of his life. “Come sit with me.”

You let him lead you to the couch, and sit down next to him, body turned away from his.

Once again, you’re sitting on his couch, on the verge of tears. But it’s different, this time. You’re not crying over guys that aren’t worth your time, you’re crying over him, over Elias, and he has to fix this one even more than he did all the other times.

��You didn’t do anything wrong,” Elias starts. This time, you don’t fight him on it. “It’s me, actually. I think I did something wrong.”

You look up. There’s a hint of fear in your eyes when you ask: “What?”

Elias sighs. It’s hard, to get out the words, even harder than he was worried about. He doesn’t know what to say, how to say it, or how to make you understand.

“I made a mistake,” he says, carefully. “I thought I needed some time away from you, but that wasn’t right.”

“Away from me?” The look of hurt on your face doesn’t pass by Elias. “Why?”

“Why?” Elias repeats. “Because it’s too hard sometimes. It’s too hard to hear you talking about all these guys you’re dating, and how they always hurt or disappoint you.”

Your eyes are fixed on the floor. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” you mutter.

“You’re not, that’s not what I meant.” Elias takes another breath. There’s something about the way you’re sitting here, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around yourself, that gives him the courage to say: “You talk about them, but you always come back to me.”

You look up at him, eyes swimming with questions.

“Whatever guy you’re with, no matter how lonely you say you are, how many dates you go on; you always end up coming back here, to hang out on my couch. Why?”

“I mean,” you start, then stop yourself.

Are you really gonna tell him?

You think back to months ago, when Liza had asked you to picture your perfect guy.

“I can’t set you up if I don’t know what you want,” she’d said. “So, close your eyes, and picture yourself happy, in the future. You’ve got a house, and a dog, and a job. You’ve got a partner. What do you picture when you think of the partner?”

Elias.

You hadn’t said it, you’d said something about blond hair and kind eyes and someone who always makes you laugh, but you’re not dumb enough to deny that it was Elias that you were describing to her. That you pictured, when you closed your eyes, an alternate reality in which Elias was yours and you were his.

But you clearly can’t say that to Elias, because he’s not interested in you like this, and you don’t want to ruin this friendship. Not when it means the most to you.

You’d give anything to be able to hold onto Elias, and have him hold onto you.

So you say nothing, just stare at Elias’ hand, which has come to rest on your thigh. His fingers are long, slender, and you miss the feeling of them tangled with your own. You wonder if you could get away with grabbing his hand, every now and then, just as friends.

“Y/N,” Elias repeats, and this time he sounds a little desperate. “You’re always saying you’re lonely, and you want someone to love you, and you need a decent guy, and I don’t know what you’re waiting for but…”

I’m waiting for you, you think.

“But I’m right here.” Elias sits up a little straighter. There’s determination in his eyes, a quiet conviction that he usually reserves for hockey. “I’m right here, and I’m a decent guy, and I love you, so why won’t you love me?”

Time freezes.

You’re pretty sure if Elias had a clock you could look at, you’d find the hands of the clock not moving. If you looked outside, the cars would be stationary, the birds would be frozen in the air.

But Elias isn’t frozen. He’s somehow closer than he was before, and he’s moving closer, still.

“Stop me,” he whispers. “Stop me if you don’t want…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

Doesn’t have to, really.

Because there’s a million things running through your mind, things like because I’m scared and he loves me and we’ve wasted so much time but at the end of the day they all lead to one single conclusion.

It’s him. It’s always been him.

So you launch forward, crash your lips against his in a feverish desperation to finally, finally make it right. He moves back from the force of it, but then his arms are wrapped around you and he’s pulling you closer, into his lap.

He slows down the kiss, softens it. The way he kisses you has your toes curling in your shoes, your heart beating in your throat, because he kisses you like no one has ever really kissed you before.

He kisses you like he loves you.

When you pull away, gasping for air, Elias’ eyes are soft when they lock with yours.

“Yeah?” he asks, and it’s hesitant, careful, like he’s still waiting for you to close the metaphorical door in his face, to take his heart and break it in two.

“I thought it wasn’t possible,” you admit. “I thought you would never want this.”

“Always,” Elias mumbles, and he leans a bit closer, presses a kiss against your jaw. “I’ve always wanted this.”

Always. He’s always wanted this and you were both too dumb to see it, both too dumb to connect the dots. You can’t believe you lost so much time, and you can’t believe it took so long.

Why did it take so long?

“Why didn’t I…” you start, but Elias cuts you off, kissing you once more. Gentle and short, this time, but still just as loving.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “What matters is that I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, allow yourself to press your lips to his collarbone.

Maybe the why, or the how, or the when, doesn’t really matter in the end. Maybe it’s about the happy ever after.

And you think you found that, now.

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