#whenever i pause reading a book i almost never go back to it and this book is already at a disadvantage because its a literary book

[marauder-misprint]

Permission

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.5k words

cw: fluff, swearing

Sirius makes it his mission to find Regulus before dinner. He doesn’t have any idea how he would convince Regulus, but he figures he’d start with asking him. Worst Regulus could say would be ‘no,’ right? And then Sirius could work on wearing his brother down until he said ‘yes.’ You may be a dear friend of Regulus, but Sirius was confident he could sway him.

Sirius makes his way to the library. He is almost certain Regulus would be there. He had seen you walk down toward the Slytherin Common Room so all he can do is hope Regulus is in the library and not awaiting you in the dungeons. He feels uneasy as he opens the library door. He doesn’t visit the library often so the thick scent of old parchment and ink takes over his senses. Madam Pince gives him a cautious look from her desk. 

As Sirius walks in, he scans each table for his brother. He passes shelf after shelf, looking down each one. Each table is filled with students but none of the Slytherins are Regulus, and none are ones he could ask for his location. However, he’s on a mission. He has to find Regulus. Sirius looks throughout the entire library and stops right before the last shelf. He takes a deep breath. If Regulus isn’t at the table at the end of this aisle, he’ll have to search all of the castle. He takes a step forward and turns his head. 

There he is, sitting at the table which is covered in stacks of books. Sirius can’t help the massive grin that spreads across his face as he casually strolls down the aisle. The younger boy doesn’t notice him until he’s practically leaning over his shoulder.

“I remember Flitwick assigning that essay,” Sirius says lazily. 

Regulus stops moving for a moment. Then, slowly and mechanically, he turns his head to look at Sirius and sits up straighter.

“Sirius.”

His blank stare quickly turns unnerved as he sees Sirius’ smile. Whenever Sirius hunted him down, it was to give a message to their parents and therefore, he usually had a grim or annoyed look on his face. This unbridled joy is a new look. 

“I need to ask you something,” Sirius says.

“Then ask it, brother.”

“I need your… permission.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “For what?”

“To take your friend on a date.”

He blinks at Sirius. 

“My friend?”

“You know which one.”

“Yeah… The dog person.”

“So, can I take her out?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me. She’s her own person.”

Sirius pulls out a chair and sits down. 

“She said you have to think it’s a good idea. Otherwise she won’t go with me.”

Regulus hums and looks back down at his essay. “That’s interesting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“After she came back smelling of you twice, she said she’d tell me if you made a move,” he laughs. “Didn’t know she was going to make you tell me yourself.”

“She isn’t making me do anything,” Sirius says, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.

“She’s making you get permission, isn’t she?”

“Yes…” Sirius pauses. “So can I take her out on a date?”

Regulus sighs as he takes a long look at Sirius. Sirius sits there silently, trying to get a read on his expression. He couldn’t quite tell which way this conversation was going.

“What do I get out of it?”

“Anything.” 

That was a dead giveaway for Regulus. If Sirius was willing to owe him anything, he really wanted to take you out on a date. It was also a game changer for him. Regulus had been planning on saying no the entire conversation; if you sent Sirius his way for permission, you figured out that Sirius wasn’t taking no for answer from you and needed someone he might actually listen to. 

“She thinks you’re pretty, by the way,” Regulus finally says. “But if you hurt her in any way, I will personally make your death look like an accident. Or they’ll never find your body. I’ll decide on that later.”

Sirius gapes at him. 

“She thinks I’m pretty? Did she say this to you?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, you said if I hurt her. So you think me going on a date with her is a good idea?”

Regulus snorts a laugh. “Well, no. But we’re going to say I do. I think it’d be good for her. And you.”

“Huh,” Sirius says, not completely sure what his brother meant by that but he wasn’t going to ask.

“Huh?” Regulus echoes.

“Yeah. … What else did she say about me?”

Regulus rolls his eyes before actually returning to his essay. “Fuck off. Be glad I think it’d be funny to hear about a date with you from her perspective. Go.”

Sirius claps a hand on Regulus’ shoulder before he leaves the library with a new spring in his step. Was he technically in Regulus’ debt? Yes. But Sirius is certain it will be worth it, and there’s always the chance that he will never redeem this favor. 

He’s surprised when he doesn’t see Regulus at dinner. Dorcas and Pandora sit on either side of you. Sirius spends far too much time watching you with a permanent smile on his face during the meal.

“Did… something happen?” Remus asks cautiously.

“Mhmm.”

“Okay so what happened?” Peter follows up.

“She’s going on a date with me.” Sirius’ voice is giddy.

James nearly chokes on his juice. “She agreed to a date with you?”

Sirius shoots him a look before saying, “All I had to do was get Reg on board. Surprisingly easy.”

“I don’t believe that,” Peter says through a mouthful of food. He swallows. “Why would your brother need to be ‘on board’?” 

“They’re friends, remember?” Remus answers. 

“Probably thought he’d say no or something,” Peter says. 

“But he didn’t. And now we’re going to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

Sirius continues to watch you for the rest of the meal. You don’t look his way once. You think there is no way that he’s already talked to Regulus and managed to get him to say it’s a good idea. You don’t even bother to tell your friends about it. You’re certain it’s not happening. That’s why you sent Sirius to Regulus; the brothers never agreed on anything. They never talked. 

After dinner, you’re leaving the Great Hall with your friends when you hear Sirius calling your name. You turn and cross your arms. Dorcas pulls Pandora away with her, somehow understanding that Sirius would want to talk to you alone again. 

“We’re on for this weekend,” he says confidently with the same giddy grin that was on his face all meal.

You choke on air. “Excuse me?”

“Regulus gave me permission. Said it was a good idea. Whatever you want to call it. I have his blessing.”

“No. No. No.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes, my darling,” Sirius replies, his eyes lighting up. “We are having a Hogsmeade date and you can’t get out of it.”

“No. No. No. No. No,” you keep repeating.

“Come on, love. It won’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

“I’m not getting my hopes up,” you say before running a hand through your hair with a groan. “I’m not believing you until I hear it myself from Reg.”

“That’s fine. But I talked to him in the library before dinner. We’re in the clear.”

You turn away from Sirius and walk away. Your mind is spinning from the idea of actually going on a real date with Sirius Black. There is no way Regulus actually said it was a good idea. He wouldn’t betray you like that. You’re suddenly at the common room entrance. Your body had gone into autopilot while your thoughts and worries about the possibility of this weekend swirled in your mind. However, worry quickly melts into anger as you descend into the common room and see Regulus lounging on one of the couches. 

“Black!” you yell from where you stand at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going to murder you!”

He glances over at you. Even from a distance, you can see the slight glimmer of fear in his eyes. You approach the couch with purpose in your steps. You grab his shirt collar and pull his face close to yours.

“What the fuck did you say to your brother?” you hiss. 

“You kept saying no to me. Thought you might like to go on a date with a different pretty bloke. At least he’s occasionally funny,” he teases, although there is a slight tremble in his voice.

You furrow your brows as you drop his collar. 

“You were supposed to say no!” you groan, moving around the couch so you can fall down next to him. “You were the one accusing me of dating him!”

“I’m giving you the chance to find out if you actually like him. See if it does go anywhere beyond him being pretty like me.”

“Regulus. I might actually kill you.”

“Why?”

“Because of you, I’m spending my Saturday in Hogsmeade with your goddamn brother!”

“Yeah and thanks to you, Sirius is now in my debt.”

“No,” you gasp. 

Regulus’ lips twitch upwards. 

“He said he’d do anything.” 

“I hate you.”

He shakes his head. “If it’s really so bad, you can decide what Sirius owes me.”

“I think I should get to decide that anyways.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine

[rainingincale]

.

[viennakarma]

Something you paid for

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.

So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.

After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.

A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.

Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.

You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.

A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.

He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes. 

You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.

You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.

“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”

“Is she a gold digger, really?”

“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”

“Has anyone warned Fernando?”

“Everyone.”

You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.

You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.

When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.

“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.

“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”

“Even two,” he joked.

You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.

“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”

You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.

In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.

After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.

“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.

You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.

Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.

When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.

“Dear, can we get the tab please?”

“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”

Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.

“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”

“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”

“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.

“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”

You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.

You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.

Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.

When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.

Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.

“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”

He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.

“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.

“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.

“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.

“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.

“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?

“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”

Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.

“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”

You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.

“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”

“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”

His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.

“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”

“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?

“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.

“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”

He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.

“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”

You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.

“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?

“Fernando.”

“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.

You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.

Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well? 

Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.

What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?

You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.

After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.

It was time to fix it.

Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.

“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.

“I didn’t sleep.”

He paused, looking at your face.

“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”

“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.

“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”

He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.

“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.

“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”

“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”

“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.

“I’m serious, Fernando.”

“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”

“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”

“You took them.”

“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”

“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”

You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.

“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”

“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”

“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.

“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”

“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.

“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”

In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.

“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”

“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”

You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.

“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off. 

Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.

You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.

You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.

Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.

You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.

He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.

The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.

-

Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.

“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.

“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.

“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”

“No- no- I guess we broke up.”

“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.

“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand. 

Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.

“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.

“What rumors?” George paused.

“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.

“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.

“I might have implied that I agree with that.”

“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”

“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”

“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.

“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”

Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.

“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.

“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.

“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”

“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”

Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.

Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.

Home didn’t feel like home without you.

In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.

You had returned every single thing.

And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.

It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.

-

While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.

You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.

Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind. 

“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”

After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.

“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.

“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.

“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”

Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.

“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.

“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.

“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”

Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.

With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.

One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.

“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.

There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”

You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.

“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.

“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”

You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.

“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”

He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.

“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.

“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”

You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.

“Come back home with me, princesa.”

At that, you took a step back.

“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”

“What?”

“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.

“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.

“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.

“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”

He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.

And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend. 

Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.

You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.

You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.

“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”

“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”

He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.

As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company. 

“What do we do about all your gifts?”

“Give them away,” you shrugged.

“Can I convince you to take it back?”

“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”

You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.

“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”

“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.

“You won’t.”

Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗖𝗞 𝗕𝗢𝗬

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Nick and Chris are trying to record wednesday's video, but Matt's lovestruck gaze keeps going to Y/N, distracting himself.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Matt! Hellooo, is anyone there?" Nick spoke from behind the camera while moving his arms around exasperatedly, looking at his brother, who had his eyes focused on the couch in the back of the room.

Matt is the kind of guy that when he loves, he loves hard.

So to say that Matt was crazy about Y/N was an understatement, all that was on his mind day and night was his girlfriend; His days were happier with her by his side, he felt like he had more energy and strength to do anything, only because of her.

His favorite thing in the world was seeing her happy, so his heart warmed every time he heard her talking about the books she was reading with so much passion and affection - so much so that he lost count of how many times he took her to the bookstore and bought more than 100 dollars in books, just to be able to hear her talk about the characters that Matt never memorized the names of and the story that always made she speak too quickly and with so much devotion.

Whenever Matt was with his brothers or friends, he would mention his girl. It was automatic, everything reminded him of her. He was obsessed. With all that said, it was inevitable that, being in the same room, the boy wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her.

The theme of that Wednesday's video was something suggested by Y/N herself, as just a few minutes ago the four of them were lying on the sofa in the living room, the girl with her feet on Matt's lap while starting a new book, while the brothers watched old videos of themselves on television.

His hands caressed the tops of her feet covered in fluffy Iron Man socks, which she had probably stolen from his side of the drawer. Every now and then Matt's right hand would go up her legs to Y/N's left hand, taking it away from the book and to his mouth, sealing the warm, soft skin with love, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.

A smile grew on Matt's face every time his brothers made vomiting sounds, calling them disgusting. While Y/N felt like her cheeks could explode from how red they became.

Matt's teenage voice coming from the videos made Y/N's heart warm, and seeing the silly smiles on the triplets' faces as they traveled through the land of nostalgia made an idea pop into the girl's head, who instantly put down the book and paused the video, catching the attention of them.

And this takes us to the current moment, after Y/N has separated some pictures from when they were children, teenagers or nowadays on Nick's phone, having created an album to be used in that specific video.

Matt and Chris were sitting at the kitchen table, facing the camera, Nick - who was standing behind it with the album open on his phone -, and consequently also facing the sofa, where Y/N was sitting comfortably as she flipped through her book, a smile appearing every now and then on her face as her expressions changed according to the events in the story.

A cup of cappuccino that Matt made for her rested on her legs, keeping her warm, while her right hand came out of the book every now and then and picked up the drink, taking a sip.

It was the third time that Nick caught Matt's attention, who seemed to get lost in his girlfriend's figure, and all external sounds, including his brothers' voices, became muffled.

To disguise it, the boy would randomly guess the name of one of his brothers or himself when Nick showed a small part of a picture, getting it wrong almost every time. This led to him having the lowest score.

"What? Yes, that's Chris." Matt blinked his eyes quickly, looking away from Y/N and to the phone in Nick's hands.

"Matt, it's you!" Nick exclaimed, rolling his eyes and sighing, he knew the video would continue like this if he didn't get Y/N out of the room, but his best friend looked too comfortable on the couch.

"Pay attention, dumbass." Chris slammed the palm of his left hand against Matt's forehead, earning a slap back on the arm.

Y/N lifted her head from the book momentarily, holding back a laugh as she saw the brothers fighting, rolling her eyes playfully before returning her attention to the story, adjusting her position on the couch.

"I'm sorry, I'll pay attention. I promise." Matt raised his hands in surrender, swallowing hard as he glanced briefly at Y/N and saw her laughing softly, returning his eyes to his older brother and forcing himself to keep them there.

"For those of you who aren't understanding, Y/N is sitting on the couch reading, and Matt can't stop looking at her. He's obsessed, I swear." Nick muttered behind the camera, shaking his head even though they couldn't see him.

When the first round ended, Chris got up and took Nick's place behind the camera, agreeing to be the next to show the pictures and be the jury.

Nick handed him the phone and sat down next to Matt, looking briefly at the couch and closing his lips in a thin line at Y/N's wide eyes at the book, probably surprised by some absurd scene.

The oldest looked at Matt, seeing that his brother was already looking at Y/N, too. Their eyes quickly met when Matt felt Nick looking at him, a laugh escaping both of their mouths.

"Are you ready?" Chris asked after choosing the first picture he would use, receiving a nod from the two brothers, who had both arms on the table so they could reach the "button" faster.

The youngest zoomed in on the pic and turned the screen towards the two, waiting for one of them to get it right.

Matt had never moved so fast, his left hand slamming against the post-it too hard as his eyes were wide in euphoria.

"It's me! Look at Y/N's hand there." Matt shouted in excitement, raising his right hand and pointing at the phone behind the camera.

"Yeah, that's Matt." Nick sighed, knowing that even though he got it right too, Matt spoke first. "You only got it right because Y/N is in the picture!"

"Obviously, he knows Y/N's traits more than he knows his own." Chris scoffed from behind the camera, zooming out of the image and looking for the next one.

The picture in question was from a day when the four of them went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant about a year ago, Nick and Chris were sitting on one side of the table and Y/N and Matt on the other. Matt had his elbows resting on the wooden table and his hands crossed, laughter escaping his lips when he heard something Chris said, while Y/N joined him in laughing, her hands crossed around his right bicep and her head resting on his covered shoulder.

The pic was taken by Nick, being the passionate photographer that he was, and Chris felt a smile stretch across his face as he remembered the moment.

Even though they made fun of their brother so much for being a crazy in love for Y/N, they felt their chest fill with joy for their brother every time they saw them together. They knew that their brother had found his other half, and seeing him as happy as ever made them just as happy.

"I know, he's obsessed with her." Nick commented again, receiving a slap on the back of his head, letting out a laugh when he saw Matt roll his eyes, but don't deny anything.

The girl looked up again when she heard her name being said by one of the boys and her person being mentioned more than once. Her eyes met Matt's blue ones, who looked at her with love and affection, an easy smile appearing on his face almost automatically.

Y/N smiled back, blowing a kiss, which the boy pretended to catch with his left hand and keep in the pocket of his hoodie.

When the round changed again, it was Matt's turn to stand behind the camera and choose the pictures.

The boy got up from his seat, fixing his pants and walking over to where Chris was, taking the phone from his hand and closing the last picture chosen by the youngest.

His thumb scrolled across the screen, looking for the first one he would use as he let his brothers settle down.

A smile stretched across Matt's face as he passed by a picture of Nick and Y/N, where they were both wearing sunglasses, with feathers around their necks and making faces at the camera. Nick had his left hand raised showing a peace sign, and it was there that Matt decided to zoom in, but not before lingering his eyes for a few seconds on the full image, admiring his girlfriend there.

Matt took advantage of the fact that his brothers were in a silly argument and turned around momentarily, looking at his girl, who was now in a position that in his head was probably very uncomfortable, but he already knew that for Y/N, the most different positions were the best.

The girl felt eyes on her and looked up, seeing Matt standing there admiring her. A reddish color took over her cheeks, and her fingers played with the pages of the book, trying to hide her shyness.

Matt nodded briefly at the book as if asking her how the story was going. Y/N smiled at the action, making a chief kiss gesture with her right hand while her left held the book open, afraid of losing the page she stopped at.

"I want to hear all abo-" Matt began in a low voice, just for Y/N to hear, but his sentence was cut by a hand hitting the table.

"I'm going to get Y/N out of the room if you don't turn around now and do your job." Nick said, crossing his arms. Chris held back his laughter beside him, his face turning red from the force he exerted in the action.

"You're so unnecessary." Matt rolled his eyes, throwing a wink at Y/N, who had a goofy smile, before turning to face his brothers again.

"No, you are." Nick responded, opening his mouth to argue against Matt again, only to be stopped by Chris, who smacked his left arm while laughing.

"Go ahead, Matt." The youngest asked, straightening up and clearing his throat, looking at his brother as he waited for the first picture.

Nick sent a bored look to Y/N, who was still watching them intently. The girl laughed softly, turning her attention back to the book as she felt her heart warm.

Y/N felt so grateful for her boyfriend and his brothers, who she saw as family. She would never forget the day Nick thanked her for how happy she made his brother, but little did he know, it was Matt who made her the happiest.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"Matt looking behind the camera every 2 minutes with a lovestruck look on his face was the cutest thing I've ever seen 😔"

"Matt being able to guess the picture that had Y/N in it just because of her 😭"

"I love how Nick and Chris make fun of Matt for his love for Y/N all the time"

~ "deep down, they love them together more than the couple itself lol"

"I want to have a boyfriend who is as obsessed with me as Matt is with Y/N ​​🧎‍♀️"

"Y/N is a total bookworm, and I'm here for it!"

~ "petition for her to make tiktoks about the books she reads ✏️📄"

"it's incredible to see the difference between Matt before Y/N and Matt during Y/N. She's so good for him 🥺"

"Matt smiles so much when Y/N is near 😫"

"Matt and Y/N >>>>>>> any other famous couple"

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 !! ✩࿐

pairings: albedo, alhaitham, childe, cyno, heizou, kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, very light angst in xiao’s and childe’s (they still ends with fluff though), kissing, established relationship

summary: in which your boyfriend tells you that he loves you, but instead of returning his sentiments, you decide to mess with him by not saying it back.

a/n: i said that i’d post soon like two weeks ago... oops. nonetheless, i hope you have fun reading this!

₊˚ପ ALBEDO

“What’s the matter?” Albedo asks, tilting his head slightly as the words fall from the tip of his tongue. Vivid teal eyes fill with hints of concern that dance through his irises loftily in a flurry of iridescent petals.

Albedo is worried, but he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. For now, he’ll test the waters of an unexplored ocean and scope out the situation, hoping that he’s just reading too much into things.

“Nothing,” you answer, tilting your head innocently as if you don’t have a clue what Albedo’s talking about.

Your boyfriend is perplexed, but he’s not an idiot. He’s often been regarded as a genius, and he’s spent almost as much time reading the sentimental words engraved into your heart as he has conducting his experiments. Albedo is absolutely captivated by you because you never fail to leave him fascinated and awe-struck. So naturally, he’s managed to pick up on all your subtle habits and all your strange quirks.

And right now, the expression on your face tells him that something is off. A missing brushstroke on a panoramic painting. A sour note in an otherwise enchanting composition. A sparkling daydream where you feel just a little too lucid.

You know exactly what he’s talking about. You’re just feigning ignorance.

Now all Albedo has to do is figure out why.

“I see,” he whispers under his breath in a tone so soft that even a light breeze would whisk his words off to neverland.

Albedo’s gaze remains fixated on you, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes narrowed.

Then a barely-audible chuckle leaves your lips. You stifle it in an instant, but Albedo has committed the melodic sound of your laugh to memory.

And suddenly everything makes sense.

You’re trying to get a reaction out of him, but sadly for you, you seem to have forgotten one key detail. Albedo is used to solving issues in a calm manner, his temperament akin to aquatic drafts that gently caress the surface of a crystal ocean. Cool and controlled.

“Ah, I understand now,” he says, and your eyes widen. The expression on your face rivals the beauty of a night sky dotted with various asterisms. You’re utterly ethereal. The corners of Albedo’s lips turn up, graced with a smile that shines with the light of a million stars. “You thought you could fool me, but unfortunately, you just gave yourself away.”

A pause. The tension within the air thaws, and the atmosphere becomes light-hearted once more.

“I’m not mad,” he clarifies, staring you dead in the eye, “but I would, however, appreciate it if you could make it up to me.”

₊˚ପ ALHAITHAM

Alhaitham is unfazed.

He sees right through you. You didn’t seriously think this was going to work on him, right? It didn’t take him long to get used to your antics when you first got together, and although you haven’t tried to play as many pranks on him as of late, it’s difficult to erase the devious grin you don whenever you’re up to something from his mind. Nor has the sly look in your eyes slipped from his memory.

Your boyfriend’s ability to read you is almost prophetic — a prediction of the future, yet no stars are read and no omens are required. He makes his predictions based on logic and logic alone.

And unfortunately for you, you don’t possess the same capabilities.

When you ignore Alhaitham’s honeyed words, turning your back to walk away with a coldness reminiscent of the farthest outreaches of the galaxy, he simply shrugs it off and heads to your living room to read a book. He sinks comfortably into a plush armchair, knowing full well that you’ll be back in no time.

Just four pages in, and Alhaitham hears the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallways, filling your shared home with a familiar sort of music. It’s only a few more seconds before he feels a tap on his shoulder — a touch that brings him back to reality entirely, away from the realm of scholarly pursuits.

“Is there anything you need?” Alhaitham asks, meeting your gaze with eyes tinted a turquoise found only in the most pristine of diamond waters. He remains as stoic as ever, not allowing so much as a single hint of emotion to show through his front.

You stare at him, dumbfound, for a few moments. Alhaitham knows what you’re thinking. He’s normally so observant — nothing ever slips past him, and yet this time, he failed to acknowledge the fact that you didn’t respond to his ‘I love you’. Besides that, it’s rather rare for Alhaitham to allow those words to leave his lips in the first place. He prefers to reserve them for tender moments, times where it feels like the only beings present in the vast universe are the two of you. You expected him to be more alert, and yet, Alhaitham has subverted all your expectations.

And it’s all part of his plan.

But then your eyes widen, filling with a light signaling that you’ve just experienced an epiphany. Alhaitham can tell that you’ve realized what he’s up to, and that your little scheme has backfired entirely.

“About earlier,” you start, assuming that Alhaitham already knows what you’re referring to.

Alhaitham smiles.

“What about it?” he questions you, acting oblivious even though both of you know Alhaitham would never be that clueless.

“You acted like you didn’t notice on purpose, didn’t you?” You’re pouting, but your irritation is clearly feigned. Alhaitham knows you like the back of his hand, and although messing with you produces some entertaining results, he would never go so far as to hurt you.

A rare smile graces Alhaitham’s face, as stunning as vivid ribbons of celestial light that compose an illustrious aurora. He’s not typically one to express emotion, but he can’t help himself. You’re just far too irresistible, and if there’s one thing he has a soft spot for, it’s you.

“My apologies,” he speaks in his usual calm tone. “I just couldn’t help myself — not when I knew I’d be able to bear witness to such an adorable display of anger.”

₊˚ପ CHILDE

The silence that hangs in the air is tangible — a thick veil of unspoken words, all consolidated into glacial fractals that cause the atmosphere to glaze over. An icy sort of tension permeates the moment, crystallizing the ambience and morphing it into something fragile.

And everything shatters when your boyfriend speaks.

“[Name],” he frowns, gazing at you with periwinkle hues devoid of illumination. He sighs, swallowing his pride. “Say it back. Please.”

A blank look fills your eyes, morphing once-lively galaxies into monochromatic jumbles of nonsense. For once, Childe can’t tell what you’re thinking, and that scares him. Either you’re messing with him, and you’re an exceptionally good actor, or you’re being serious.

“Say what back?” you say, cluelessness filling your tone filling your tone.

Childe is dumbfounded. It’s true that he tells you he loves you quite often, but he didn’t think that you’d become so accustomed to it that his words would no longer hold any weight. Although he finds it slightly odd, he supposes that even the most precious of glittering gemstones becomes mundane when fortune is the norm. But that doesn’t mean he’s any less disappointed.

“You really can’t tell?” he sighs yet again. He averts his gaze, looking anywhere but at you.

You shake your heart, and yet as you do, he catches a subtle flash of gilded lightning flash through your irises, setting your expression ablaze with hints of mischief. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, but Childe knows what he saw. The initial melancholy that gripped his heart with cold fingers borne of frost dissipates, and in its place, amusement arises.

Silence. Shock. Disbelief.

And then he bursts out in a fit of sonorous laughter, the sheer volume of each chuckle rivalling that of an intense tempest.

Your eyes widen. It seems that you didn’t expect to be found out, but Childe has known you for long enough to be able to read your emotions. He’s spent an eternity exploring every nuance of your personality — every subtlety and every quirk, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And he loves every part of you.

That’s why he never fails to express his adoration whenever the opportunity is presented in evanescent moments like these. Although times like these sound like they’d be rare, they’re not when he’s by your side. Every second is filled with bliss, and despite the instances where azure skies are painted a dull grey and sapphire oceans turn tumultuous, he always knows that everything will be alright.

“I should have known,” he says. “You were just teasing me.”

Busted.

In less than a minute, your boyfriend has exposed all your plans, and you have no choice but to admit defeat.

“I was,” you admit, hanging your head.

Childe laughs, but once he settles down, he cups your chin in one hand and lifts your head to meet his gaze. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he closes the distance between your lips. Inch by inch.

You lean in as well. Time slows, and he forgets how to breathe. Even though he was the one who initiated the kiss, he finds you utterly enchanting. The beating of his heart speeds up, becoming erratic, desperate for the sensation of your soft lips pressed against his.

And then it happens. Although Childe had been looking for a verbal affirmation of love, this is even better. Fireworks seem to burst in the edges of his vision, painting the world in vivid shades of phosphorescent crimson and rose.

₊˚ପ CYNO

“Say it back. There’s no need to continue on with this prank of yours because cy-no you’re only joking,” he says. His voice is as monotone as ever, as tranquil as cerulean seas beneath a sky dotted with snowy white clouds.

His words provoke no response from you. You simply stare at him, too shocked to speak.

“Do you get it? Because Cyno is my name, and ‘cy’ sounds a little bit like ‘I’ while ‘no’ sounds like ‘know’.”

Cyno watches as your features scrunch in a twist of disbelief, embarrassment, and fear. He internally chuckles, secretly delighting in the adorable expression adorning your face.

Your reactions are always priceless, worth more than the most precious of gold and the most luxurious of diamonds. Because basking in the splendor of your smile is true opulence.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle, the embers of mischief within your eyes flickering, “you win. Please stop with the puns. I can’t take it anymore.” Your tone is playful, light.

The corners of Cyno’s lips turn up slightly as a smile graces his features. He’s well aware that your exasperation is feigned — nothing more than an exaggeration fabricated in order to tease him a little. Besides, if you didn’t like his sense of humour, you wouldn’t even be dating him right now.

“Victory is mine,” Cyno speaks triumphantly in a tone full of a hyperbolic sort of grandeur.

He feels light-hearted for the first time in a while, and it’s in that moment, that fraction of a second, that Cyno realizes something.

Your presence is liberating.

When he’s with you, he’s free from the troubles of daily life. With you, the responsibilities that go hand-in-hand with his status are put on hold, allowing him some time to truly experience what it’s like to be unburdened. With you, he’s not the General Mahamatra, one of the most renowned figures within Sumeru. 

He’s just Cyno.

He feels his grin widen as he opens his mouth to speak once more.

“I love you,” he repeats his words from earlier, his tone one of pure adoration and bliss. The beating of his heart picks up, setting a new tempo that seems just right for the moment, a perfect backing for a myriad of silent declarations.

That seems to do the trick because you admit defeat without hesitation and utter the same words back with an extra one following in tandem.

“I love you too.”

₊˚ପ HEIZOU

“Oh? Do you not love me anymore?” Heizou confronts the problem head-on, feigning sadness. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your confused expression, but he manages to erase it in an instant, deceiving even the eyes of his partner.

You should have known better than to play a prank of this sort on him. After all, Heizou’s always been one to turn your tricks against you.

As soon as your eyes widen and your jaw drops, Heizou knows that he’s won. To his relief, you don’t notice the way his verdant pools of peridot sparkle with mischief. You’re too absorbed in your panic to sense that anything is off.

He has to continuously stifle bouts of laughter. Heizou finds your reactions slightly too cute.

“N-No! I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out in a tone laced with desperation. “I��m sorry. I should have known that you would have noticed something was off. You’re always so perceptive,” you speak sheepishly, averting your gaze. “I just wanted to see how you’d react if I didn’t say it back…”

Heizou chuckles.

“You’re too cute, darling,” he muses, staring you straight in the eyes. “Fortunately for you, my intuition told me that you were just messing with me.”

You groan.

“Of course you figured it out,” you sigh.

Heizou can’t help but mentally agree. He’s already used to solving mysteries, and the fact that the two of you are so close doesn’t quite work to your advantage. Your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand, and unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of piecing together the puzzles you craft in an attempt to elicit reactions from him.

“I think I deserve a reward for cracking this case,” he says, pointing a finger at his lips.

When Heizou sees your eyes light up, glowing with the opalescent radiance of a nebula, he knows he’s about to get what he wants.

With one quick movement, you lean in nervously to place a shy kiss on Heizou’s lips, clearly still embarrassed by your failure. When you pull away, you take a few steps backwards before gazing deep into your boyfriend’s eyes. In that moment, Heizou realizes that the sentiments swirling through your irises — feelings embodied by the warm hues of a dying sunset — are nothing but sincere.

₊˚ପ KAZUHA

Kazuha knows you’re teasing him. From the subtle grin you’re trying to hide to the mischievous light dancing within your star-flecked irises, it’s not difficult to discern that you’re teasing him.

But despite everything, he decides to play along.

“I love you,” he repeats, gently taking your hand in his. He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your hand, a charming habit more than a calculated measure.

Kazuha glances up at you and smiles — a gentle expression that lights up your day with rays of golden sunshine. In a single flash, your cheekiness vanishes, and instead, an awestruck gaze paints itself across your face.

Kazuha suppresses a giggle. Far too often, he finds himself enamoured with you, especially when you’re flustered. He attempts to memorize the sight before him, engraving every dip and curve of your facial features into his memories.

You’re just far too endearing for him to resist, and besides, you’re his muse. Kazuha isn’t exactly sure how he knows it, but somehow, he’s certain that someday this moment will undergo a metamorphosis within a hall of crystallized memories, transforming from a fond recollection of the past to strings of eloquently phrased words — a haiku.

You look absolutely captivated by him, and although he didn’t intentionally try to send your heart into a frenzy of vivid daydreams and rose-tinted adoration, he’s glad you find him so attractive. A few seconds pass before you give in.

“I love you too,” you whisper breathlessly, grinning at Kazuha before leaving for the day. As soon as you’re out the door, Kazuha chuckles, eyes containing the essence of autumn mingling with a bright moonglow, swirling with amusement.

“I love you more.”

₊˚ପ SCARAMOUCHE

Scaramouche is confused, but he tries his best not to show it. He’s fairly certain that the two of you haven’t argued recently, so why is it that you’re not reciprocating his affections?

Although Scaramouche acts like he doesn’t care sometimes, he knows all your small habits. And as your lover, he finds it odd that you aren’t uttering those three powerful words back. That coupled with the fact that it’s rather difficult for him to express his feelings makes him desperate for a response.

“Are you forgetting something?” he grumbles, not wanting to seem too desperate. Deep down, his emotions cause whirlwinds of conflicting thoughts to swirl in his mind.

He watches as you blink — slowly, gradually as if you want to stretch seconds into eons. A frown etches itself into his forehead, and he feels irritation begin to overtake his heart. Storm clouds, tinted an ominous grey, overwhelm the ambience.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you shake your head.

“I don’t think so,” you tell him.

Scaramouche’s features twist into a pout, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Yet at the same time, your boyfriend is embarrassed beyond measure. He feels his cheeks heating up, and he’s absolutely sure that shades of pink reminiscent of a sunrise have begun to dust his pale cheeks.

“Fine,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes and turning away. “Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.” Scaramouche tries to brush it off casually, attempting to erase the odd experience from memory.

He want nothing more than to hear you say those three words back, but he’s far too proud to admit it.

He nearly walks away before he feels a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Wait,” you say. “I was just kidding.”

Scaramouche groans. He turns around in order to face you.

“How irritating,” he sighs. He brushes his hair, silken strands spun of midnight, away from in front of his eyes. Scaramouche can’t believe you were able to sense his vulnerability.

You giggle upon seeing Scaramouche’s grumpy face.

“You owe me for this,” he states.

“I know,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and leaning in.

Scaramouche feels his breath hitch, and before he knows what’s happening, the sensation of your warm lips against his overwhelms his senses. Sparks fly in the edges of his vision, and soon enough, a passionate fire is set ablaze in a grand display of crimson elation.

Although you didn’t say anything in response when he told you he loved you, your wordless exchange of adoration speaks volumes.

I love you.

₊˚ପ XIAO

Xiao sucks in a quiet breath as you turn away from him. It’s not often that he expresses his affection verbally, and the fact that you’re barely responding to his declaration of love is unnerving.

He looks down, strands of seafoam obscuring his gaze, blocking eyes of honeyed amber from your line of sight. However, he raises his head after only a few seconds, attempting to ignore the feeling of unease creeping up on him, freezing his very being with a subtle chill. It’s barely there — a pain nowhere near the sting of a frostbite — yet it still eats away at him, reminding him again and again that something is wrong.

But although Xiao wants to ask you if anything’s bothering you or if he did something to upset you, he can’t. Translating his emotions into words feels far too difficult, especially because in all honestly, this situation is probably no big deal — or so he tells himself. Your nonchalance contrasts with his overthinking, causing doubt to well up within his mind.

In the end, he allows you to leave, wallowing within an aquamarine sea of thoughts. The world has been painted a watercolour blue. Although he refuses to admit it, melancholy overtakes Xiao’s heart, as he’s now both confused and lost.

Did he upset you?

The idea doesn’t seem too outlandish. Xiao’s never been good at interpreting emotions or expressing them, and it’s one of his greatest insecurities as your boyfriend. He’s gotten better over time, but there are times where he still worries about being too oblivious to your feelings.

Unfortunately for Xiao, you’re out for the day, so there’s plenty of time for negative thoughts to ruminate in his mind, festering until they reach the point of becoming a soulless black hole, draining every bit of confidence from him.

As the skies outside the glass windows of your shared home begin to tint with a rosy blush, and a golden light paints the world in shades of ephemeral warmth, Xiao becomes restless. You’ll be back any moment, and then, he’ll have to face you. Anticipation causes his heart to beat in a frenzy as the minute of your arrival approaches.

And sure enough, you return at the exact time you always do.

As soon as you walk through the door, Xiao walks over to greet you, gauging your reactions. When you see him, the corners of your lips turn up in an ethereal smile, and the rest of your face lights up.

Your delighted expression takes Xiao aback. He didn’t expect such a pleasant greeting after the events of this morning, but he brushes it off, allowing a grin to dance across his features in tandem, reciprocating your look of absolute adoration.

“I missed you,” he whispers, stepping closer to you in order to gently take your hand in his.

To assure himself that you’re here in the moment. That nothing’s wrong.

He sighs contently when you don’t pull away. The solace of your intertwined fingers is akin to the tidings of a viridescent spring after countless days of pure white dusting a panoramic landscape. It’s a breath of fresh air after eons spent hyperventilating in the frigidness of a crystallized wasteland, silently fading away amongst seas of sparkling snow.

Xiao can finally breathe again.

And when he laters asks why you didn’t return the three precious words he uttered under his breath earlier that day, as the sun had just begun bathing the world in aureate light, your answer causes his face to heat up.

It was nothing more than a prank.

disappearing back into my gremlin cave for another fifty years now!! thank you so much for reading!

[loveinhawkins]

Eddie is writing new song lyrics. Dustin discovers them on a random Saturday when they’re having pizza at Steve’s; Eddie asks Dustin to get one of his old campaign notes, and Dustin reaches for the wrong journal.

“Oh, not that one,” Eddie says with a shrug, but his eyes go a little thoughtful at the sight of it in Dustin’s hands. For some reason he pauses, and then he says, “You can still read it if you want, man.”

And Dustin stares at him, certain it’s a trick, because Eddie is notorious for ensuring that any potential Hellfire spoilers are kept under lock and key. But then he opens the book and reads.

And he gets it.

The lyrics are clever, because they hide under metaphor, apocalyptic imagery and all that stuff, but it clicks when Dustin gets to a verse about a tune echoing through a mall, ‘and it’s a song you know, you’ve known it all your life,’ and he’s suddenly thrown back to when he explained how Steve worked out the location of the Russian code, and Eddie was taking it all in, eyes as round as pennies.

Dustin sets down the notebook and says, “It’s about us.” It’s not a question.

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“You make it sound a lot more poetic than it actually was,” Dustin says.

But Eddie doesn’t tease back, just gives a contemplative little smile and says, “Really? I don’t think so.”

And that’s as far as they get in talking about it, because Eddie suddenly glances away, and his smile changes ever so slightly, gets softer around the edges. He turns back to Dustin and mouths, Look.

Dustin does. Steve has fallen asleep, curled up in the corner of the couch. His head is just barely resting in his hand, nodding forwards precariously every so often.

Dustin hears Eddie give an almost silent tsk, which is funny; he must have picked it up from Steve. He quietly goes over and moves Steve with a gentle touch until Steve’s head is resting comfortably against the cushions.

Steve murmurs wordlessly, eyes closed, then settles back into sleep.

Eddie catches Dustin’s eye; he mimes, Shh with a wink.

And something in the back of Dustin’s mind falls into place. …Huh.

There are days when Eddie has the journal and days when he doesn’t—he cycles through notebooks constantly, most of them having been started with a specific purpose before devolving into chaotic scribbles for anything and everything.

But this one stays consistent.

And whenever he does have the journal, he lets Dustin open it to any random page and read for as long as he likes.

It doesn’t exactly take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that a verse waxing lyrical about a protective soldier finally laying down his armour and resting is about… someone in particular.

And that makes Dustin wonder whether ‘and it’s a song you know, you’ve known it all your life’ isn’t just about a mechanical horse playing Daisy, Daisy. In fact, maybe it’s not about that at all.

He doesn’t mention anything, just says that Eddie’s writing is good when he hands the journal back over. It’s hardly a major compliment, except every time, Eddie says, “Thanks,” in an almost uncertain tone Dustin’s never heard before, like just hearing that’s really touched him.

And then one day Eddie loses the journal. Dustin doesn’t realise what’s wrong at first, just knows that Eddie is agitated, rooting around in the back of the van when Dustin sidles in for a ride home after school.

Dustin sees movement outside, and he looks up to see one of the substitute teachers who’s always got a stick up her ass standing at the school entrance. She’s holding Eddie’s journal.

“Uh, Eddie?”

“What?” Eddie snaps. Then he follows where Dustin is looking. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.”

But he doesn’t let any of his irritation show when he hops out of the van and heads for the teacher.

Dustin knows Eddie talks a good game when it comes to sticking it to authority, all I’ll flip him the bird and so on, but there’s none of that arrogance now. Dustin can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can read the body language, the teacher’s tight-lipped smile, the way Eddie has crossed an arm over his chest self-defensively; he looks suddenly very young and unsure of himself.

The confrontation ends with the teacher handing Eddie the journal—more shoving it at him, really. Eddie gives her a curt nod before he heads back to the van, slamming the door shut as he gets inside.

He throws the journal in the back, and Dustin, who has carelessly destroyed countless textbooks, somehow finds himself saying, “Watch it, dude! You’ll rip it.”

Eddie doesn’t reply. He reverses out the parking lot and makes a turning for Dustin’s house, grinding his teeth.

The silence goes on until it’s unbearable, and Dustin tentatively asks, “What did she want?”

Eddie laughs, a nasty, thoroughly unconvincing sound. “Oh, ya know. Just returning lost property. Good fucking Samaritan.”

When he gets home, Dustin finds a note from his mom, that she’s over at his aunt’s and there’s some leftover pasta in the fridge. Dustin checks, and there’s easily enough for two.

He runs outside thankfully before Eddie has gone.

“You can’t expect me to be left in the kitchen unsupervised,” Dustin says. “I might burn it down.”

Eddie snorts. “From sticking pasta in the microwave?” Then he seems to hear himself and adds, “Yeah, somehow wouldn’t put it past you, Henderson.”

So they end up eating lasagne straight out of the dish together, playfully battling for the last slice like their forks are swords.

“What did she really want?” Dustin asks eventually. He can’t help but notice that Eddie had brought the journal in with him, keeps tapping his finger on the cover uneasily.

Eddie sighs, rubs a hand down his face. He nods down at the journal. “I’d left it in a classroom that some middle schoolers use for Drama Club. Apparently there’s some concerns about the appropriateness of—”

“That’s bullshit!” Dustin says. “Why would she even—”

“Dustin,” Eddie says very quietly. He closes his eyes. “You know why.”

And Dustin does. That’s why he’s so damn angry.

Because some of the lyrics (not all, but some), are love songs. And a good number of those are unambiguously from the point of view of a boy, speaking to another boy.

Eddie sighs again, presses a thumb into the inner corner of one eye. It looks like he’s warding off a headache. Dustin knows that he isn’t.

He could say I don’t care that you’re gay, but that doesn’t sound quite right; it isn’t about not caring, it’s about…

“You know I like you, right?” Dustin says.

Eddie gives a choked little laugh. He drops his hand, opens his eyes and says, with a faint smile, “No shit? I guessed you wouldn’t share lasagne with your mortal enemy.”

“True,” Dustin concedes. He presses on. “But I meant, like…” He bats Eddie’s hand away from the journal so he can tap it instead. “Like this. It’s all a part of you, and you’re really cool, so that means—like, it’s all cool. It makes you, you. You know?”

For a long moment, Eddie just stares at him. “You said you so many times, I don’t think it’s a word anymore,” he says, but he’s blinking a lot, and Dustin sees his lips quiver. “Um. Thanks.”

He still sounds sad which absolutely will not stand. Dustin gives him a few seconds of reprieve, before he launches at him with a karate style chopping motion.

Eddie chuckles. “You little shit!”

And they tussle until, breathlessly laughing, they’re both stretched out on the couch on their backs, side-by-side.

“You should let Steve read some,” Dustin suggests.

Eddie’s laughter trails off. “Mm,” he says, non-committal.

“I mean it!” Dustin recalls a verse he’d read only a couple of days ago, one that wasn’t dressed up in symbolism.

And you want to tell him you’re enough just like this darling, you always have been

“I don’t know,” Eddie says. “So far that stuff’s had an audience of one, and I think he might be a bit,” Eddie gestures with his thumb and forefinger, “biased. Being family and all.”

Dustin smiles, feels a proud little glow in his chest. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’ve seen Steve hiding love poetry books. Like he underlines that shit. It’s embarrassing.”

Eddie cackles. “Well. Some of my shit’s embarrassing so…”

Dustin claps his shoulder gravely. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna be the one to say it.”

Eddie pushes him nearly right off the couch; he pulls him back before he can fall. “Oh, fuck you.”

They’re quiet for a bit, and then Dustin suggests a movie, and when he’s putting the VHS in, he catches Eddie watching him with shiny eyes.

“Hey,” Eddie says. He smiles. “I love you.”

And God, it’s so much better hearing those words like this, with Eddie in front of him, safe and whole.

And Dustin doesn’t need to rush his reply this time. He picks up the journal and passes it to Eddie, careful of the binding.

“I love you, too,” he says, and the proud glow in his chest feels even stronger. “Now get writing, Shakespeare.”

[darkcircles4lyfe]

To Build Something Else

Whenever I read a fanfiction that takes place in the future where the hero kids continue their schooling as normal and emerge as pro heroes into the existing system, I always kinda view it as like, “AU where things weren’t as bad” or “AU where everyone is still pretending that this is the way things should be” or “AU where good and evil are morally uncomplicated.” I’m not trying to call anybody out—I’ll still read and enjoy these sometimes—but that’s how I’ve always looked at it. I’m starting to notice other people feeling it too. I’ve read fics where they point out how redundant and unfair it is to go back to being students after saving the world (remember how many pros straight up quit and left a bunch of kids to keep fighting?). I’ve seen people acknowledge how trauma will affect their ability to keep going. Perhaps the trickiest thing to wrap our heads around is how the villains will fit into it all if not through death, punishment, or imprisonment. What about all the other trappings of society? The heavily regulated quirk use, the government-funded pros aiding police control and contributing to cover-ups that maintain the illusion of peace. Hero idolization, quirk counseling, civilian helplessness. Judging a person’s worth or character based on their quirk…

It would sound too obvious and cheesy to simply point out that society isn’t “just the way things are,” that change is possible. We all know this, and yet we struggle to pinpoint exactly where to aim our sights, find the source, make any meaningful progress. The other day I read some articles from my university’s student newspaper around 1970, and it made me feel sick wondering if progress is really an illusion. Fact is, it’s easy to intellectually deconstruct society, but very difficult to imagine how to build something else.

In this fictional world, heroes have offered a mythical vision of safety and triumph. When All Might arrived, everything was going to be okay. But let’s not forget how this story began: with a moment where All Might paused, like a bystander, and in his place, a desperate civilian kid hurtled forward without any common sense. If you ask me, it wasn’t that Izuku was so good and pure and selfless, it was that he disregarded everything.

And so the person who “saves the world” (if we can even reduce it to such a concept) is not the person who puts everyone at ease and makes crowds cheer. It’s the person who makes everyone hold their breath, with a feeling in the air like the pressure changed, and it smells like rain. It is natural to be worried about the future. It’s honest. It means you can see what’s really going on. Hero society has never felt this exposed, but the people are held back from the edge of despair because there is also so much potential brewing. Electricity about to strike. The world will NOT go back to the way it was, no matter what. That much is certain. But what if we still live to see the dawn? What then? What if one person’s courage to break the mold makes all the difference?

I’m not just talking about Izuku, you know. I’m talking about Horikoshi.

To an extent, I’ve given up on predicting how exactly things will play out, because if nothing else, I can tell he’s planning something big—so big, I can’t quite picture it. I’m watching and waiting for the one person who can. I just know where he’s coming from. I think about how he’s never come this far before because his other stories were snuffed out. I know he used to struggle to see the future of his career. I relate to his stubbornly rebellious resolve to do what he wants anyway. To keep dreaming. I know that emotional sincerity is his specialty. And now he’s even directly breaking the fourth wall, having characters talk about what’s supposed to happen in comic books. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, we’ve been shown how something else can happen. He’s not done yet.

[zlebooks]

𓂃 alhaitham + pineapples on pizza .

alhaitham’s love language is giving you the pineapples on his pizza and him eating what’s leftover.

alhaitham doesn’t like pineapples on his pizza— you noticed.

whenever you call for a thirty minute break from the study group you invited him to (read: you and the scholar are the only members of the said “study group”), he’d always order a pizza.

he claims that it’s easy to eat, and it’s what doordash is for— plus as college students, it was sometimes the cheapest thing on the menu.

every time you’re seated on the ground, facing his coffee table, you never fail to notice how he picks at the pineapples on his pizza. this occurrence then leads to him eating a literal triangular bread with tomato sauce because all the toppings came off along with the pineapples. he eats it nonchalantly, not bothered by the pitiful state of his slice of pizza— if you can even call it that— as he highlights the text he’s reading.

“why do you keep ordering hawaiian for us when you don’t even like it?”

“because you prefer it.” the other responds in a straightforward manner, not even looking up from his textbook.

it’s during moments like this did you wish that alhaitham is aware of your trickery and why it’s only him that shows up during the study group sessions you arrange. you hope that the reason why he’s putting up with your obvious deceit is because he might be just as equally as interested as you.

“but what about what you like?” you ask once again, and this time, alhaitham finally takes a glance at you.

he focuses his gaze on the slice your holding, raising an eyebrow at it before looking back at you. “it’s not like you get to think about what i like when you’re obviously enjoying the abundance of toppings on yours.”

you feel heat creeping up your cheeks, ah right— whenever alhaitham takes off the toppings on his pizza, he directly puts them on yours. you don’t give it any meaning though! you were sure alhaitham is the type of guy that hates seeing food go to waste.

“i can eat other pizza flavors too you know…” grumbling, you turn the page of your book, “i can eat cheese or pepperoni.”

“you don’t like those flavors because you think they taste salty.”

your heart does a somersault— he remembers.

“of course i do. you turned it into your whole personality.” he grunts.

you’re positive that your temperature has gone over the roof and you look exactly like the tomato soup the pizzeria uses.

“h-hey! in my defense… they’re really salty to the point i’m going to get kidney stones just from eating them.” you manage to stammer out and your study buddy snorts at your exaggeration.

“well, it’s a good thing that i keep ordering hawaiian— need to keep the kidney healthy,” he pauses, putting his cheek on his palm as he smirks. “we have you to thank.”

“i can’t help but to notice… are you teasing me?”

the other can’t help but to chuckle directly in his fist, and if he managed to catch your frown, he failed to comment on it. shrugging, he replies, “am i now?” alhaitham buries his head into his book once again, “i can’t help but to notice that you aren’t doing any studying in our… study group.” heavy emphasis on the last words, your heart beats loudly against your chest as the thought of him knowing your shameful secret runs through your head.

the scholar notices this of course— nothing gets past from his watchful gaze. he wants to watch you further squirm in your current position, oh how cute were you to joke around with. it almost compensates for the moments he had to fill his stomach with nothing but topless pizzas.

“next time, maybe don’t bother inviting me to your study group. after all, you never ask anyone else but me.” alhaitham hums acting as if he were deep in his thoughts, “oh i know, ask me on a date instead.”

[amunyan]

Just a small misunderstanding

I’m back with a another little fanfiction :D hakubandoo inspired this one ☺️🤗

Hope you like it

Drops of sweat trickle down your face. It's not just from the strenuous training; At the moment you're fighting Leopold one-on-one, like so often.  

Unconcentrated, you try to evade his clumsy attacks. The emphasis here is on "trying". Because the youngest of the Vermillion siblings is hitting you unusually often today...

"Hey, (Y/N)! What's wrong? You used to dodge so easily?"

You don't react to Leo's words. They don't even reach you. They echo, as if you are far away. Muffled, as if you are under water, in the middle of a wave of thoughts that holds you tight.

"What the hell have I done?" You ask yourself. "Was it really so smart asking her for a private meeting after training?"

"Come on," he literally begs you. “If you carry on like this, we both are going to be punished by my sister.”

"What could she want from me? And why was she so nervous?" Unlike usual, Leo's older sister is pacing restlessly through the ranks of the Order's training knights, like a lion in a cage. On any other day, Mereoleona was extremely alert. She notices any imperfections in the execution of attacks and techniques. Whenever she sees a mistake, her attention was to 100% on that person. Some would call it passionate, when she would start with her loud, fierce and direct manner, calling the person a wimp or a weakling, unable to fight. But most of the knights don't see her in this way...

But today? She walks through the rows, restless and tense herself. Her face is set in a grim expression that demands respect from everyone.  Maybe that's why most of them made an extra effort and didn't want to attract negative attention. But the female Leader of the squad just walks past them all, impassively.

"Why would (Y/N) want to talk to me?" That was the one nagging question in her head. She still has the scene in her mind's eye;

"Captain Mereoleona... Could we… talk today after the training? Maybe? But only if you have time an… if you don’t mind a all. I… I... I have something important to tell you..."

"Something important?" Mereo broods further, letting out a soft sigh as she runs a hand through her wild red curls. The woman known as the Undefeated Lioness was able to read the mana of others. She could sense the slightest change in mood just by analysing their mana. A useful skill in battle. But she was never really able to read the intent or even the feelings behind it.

It was as if she was sometimes reading an open book whose words she couldn't understand or interpret properly.

"Does she mean to complain? Is the training too hard?" Mereo paused briefly. She had resigned herself to always being the brutal and scary one. The one no one wanted anything to do with. Fearing her powers... So the fact that she could hardly inspire anything but fear in people was nothing new to her. But with you? There was no way Mereo wanted you to see her like that. "Although she is so small and petite, she keeps up well. What she lacks in physical strength, she makes up for in speed and technique. “ It was your wild, often untamed water magic, like a thundering waterfall, that impressed her. But also this gentle, almost mysterious side of your magic. Very different. Very calm. Sometimes it can be quiet and still. Like a crystal clear lake in the moonlight.

With another sigh, adding to the uncertainty of the knights, Mereoleona stops and glances over to you.

 

Your magic has turned against you after a failed attack. And now you find yourself sitting on the floor, soaking wet. Leo next to you - ready to roll over and die of laughter at any moment.

Annoyed, you blow air through your nose and wipe away the wet hair that hangs in front of your face like a curtain of seaweed. A few heartbeats later, your eyes meet Mereoleona's.

 

Fuegoleon follows his older sister's eyes with a bad premonition.

He had watched you and her small talk just before the training. Something wasn't right. Nothing at all. Especially when he remembers the last few weeks. How close Mereo had been to you.

"(Y/N) is so quiet and friendly that she probably doesn't dare stand up to my sister on her own. Especially since she's still officially Captain at the moment. Damn..."

He also remembers the sight of you, as you talked to Mereoleona. The nervous kneading of your hands. The thin, almost inaudible and trembling voice. For Fuegoleon, there was only one logical conclusion: You were going to complain to Mereoleona. About her indiscreet behaviour, but you just don't know how to go about it.

The young leader of the order clenched his hands with determination. "I must help her! She doesn't stand a chance against my sister alone."

The training was tiring. Exhausted, you wipe the sweat from your forhead with the back of your hand before giving Leo the usual high five to say goodbye.

As the training ground begins to empty, you stop and look down at yourself. “Still wet and dirty as well…”, you have to admit. For a moment, you consider to abandon your plan. As horrible and also stinky as you are at the moment, you don't want to say those important words to Mereoleona. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you hear footsteps approaching.

"(Y/N)?"

You look up: "Fuegoleon? What's up?"

With a gentle smile, he looks at you and asks if he should accompany you.

"Accompany me?" You look at him questioningly. Turn around to make sure he means you and not someone else. You even point your finger at yourself and look at him forcefully, questioningly. He nods. 

"Why? Where to?" Confused, you look at him. He's still giving you a friendly smile, but under the circumstances it seems almost intrusive.

"Well, you wanted to talk to my sister, if I understood you correctly. I know how unapproachable and sometimes frightening she can be. That's why I want to help you."

"Was he listening?", you ask yourself and as soon as you realise, your eyes widen in disbelieve. "Not good. He got the wrong idea..." With a snap, you raise your hands in defence. "It's all right," you stammer quickly. "I... I'll be fine."

“Fuegoleon is nice and friendly... Yes... But totally inappropriate right now," you shout to yourself in your head. "How can I politely tell him that I want to be alone with Mereoleona?"

At the very same moment you hear a familiar voice: "So this is where you are..."

You open your mouth to answer in the affirmative, but Fuegoleon is quicker: "Not alone. I'm here to back her up."

Mereoleona had approached you and is now standing in front of you two with her arms on her hips. Her eyes wander critically from you to her brother. "Am I disturbing you? (Y/N), I thought you wanted to talk to me."

"What?" It slips out of your mouth.

Mereoleona raises her eyebrows before crossing her arms: "So, what do you have to tell me that's so important, that you need his support? Are you going to complain and now you've got your pants already full?" Her expression darkens more with every moment of silence.

But you can't get a sound out. Her gloomy look, Fuegolen's encouraging smile, who has misunderstood the whole situation...

You swallow deeply and open your mouth. But the words, the words you've been thinking about for so long, don't come out. You can only hear your own heart hammering in your chest. Louder and louder.. The leaden silence around you and the pressure on you become more and more intense. The moments feel like an eternity.

"Wait!"

But then: "Pah," says Mereoleona, annoyed. "This is too stupid for me. You two can play kindergarten alone."

As she turns on her heel, your rigidity loosens. You take a big step, reach out and grab her wrist. Your gaze, bright red, wanders to the ground. You can't even look at her right now. You're too afraid of a disapproving look.

"I... I don't know what your brother is doing here, but..." Your heart pounds harder against your chest. "And  I... I know we're both women. That I probably don't fall into your pattern of prey at all. But still…" You bite your lower lip before summoning the courage to look her in the eye. Your grip on her wrist tightens. But Mereo doesn't seem to care. Her watery blue eyes look at you curiously and a knowing grin appears on her lips.

"I... I've fallen in love with you," you blurt out.

"Please, what?!" Fuegoleon, who can't believe his ears, takes a step back. He shakes his head in disbelief. He glances hastily between you and his sister. But his eyes remain fixed on Mereo. Uncertain and demanding at the same time.

She now began to grin. Her pointed canine tooth flashed: "Oho... What do you say to that?"

You swallow and an uncomfortable silence slowly threatens to settle over you. Your eyes dart restlessly back and forth. You keep biting your lower lip, unsure how to interpret her look and especially her statement.

"Well... I'm sorry if I upset you, Mereoleona... I mean, Captain Mereoleona." You correct yourself, stammering, because you don't have very high hopes.

"Wait, wait!" her brother raises his hands in defence. "So my sister doesn't annoy you, (Y/N)?" he asks, looking at you. "You won't complain or... something like that?"

Slowly, with your eyes back on the ground, you shake your head. "The training may be hard, yes. And Mereoleona seems very frightening at the beginning, especially when she screamed at us at the festival a while ago, when she official took over the order for you. But..." You look at Mereo again. "I've been watching you for a while now. You, too, have that softer side. A hidden but caring side." A smile flits across your lips and your cheeks begin to glow. "That side of you... I'd like to get to know better. Even though you're known everywhere as the fierce, extremely strong - or the undefeated, uncrowned lioness, in my opinion, that's only one part of you. There is much more.”

With a gentle but firm grip, Mereoleona now releases your hands from her wrist. “The little lion cub can read me better than I can read her”, she thinks to herself, not taking her eyes off you, as she counties with a grin on her lips. “I didn't think you had that much guts," she grabs your hand to pull you closer. "But... can you take the heat?"

Her face comes closer to yours. You can feel her breath warm against your skin, her firey scent. But you can also hear her heart beating fast as her mana gets nervous.

In an instant, she closes the distance between you with a passionate kiss.  At first you are completely surprised. Taken by the moment, you close your eyes. Trying not to think about it - your brain would not be able to process it anyway - you feel.

As Mereo let go of your hand to pull you into a warm, intense embrace, her fingers finding their way down your back to your hips, you let your hands rest on her shoulders. The question of whether she was just playing with you is erased the moment she starts biting your lower lip. Needy. Wanting more. Just as she has been suppressing these feelings herself for some time now. A soft moan leaves your mouth as you open it to give her access. As her tongue caresses yours, your fingertips dig deeper into her skin.

Sinking into that feeling. Sinking into this passionate kiss that you never really expected.

As you slowly open your eyes and take a deep, nervous breath, you notice that Mereoleona's cheeks are also slightly flushed. But not nearly as bright as yours.

"You're quite a challenge," you whisper breathlessly against her lips. "But... If you are willing... I will take it."

"Don't worry too much. I thought your element was water anyway..."

"Yes, it is." You reply, not knowing what she means.

But she continues: "You can't get close enough to burn yourself. Not only because I will make sure not to hurt you." She touches a lock of hair behind your ear. "You really surprise me. I thought you were just a cute little lion. Fast and very good with fighting techniques, but also very quiet. So to see that you have the courage to confess your feelings for me, even in front of my brother, is a big surprise, igniting the desire for more..." She comes closer and looks into your deep, dark eyes, like an unfathomable ocean.

"So show me more of your mysterious and brave side..."

She leans in for another kiss, to place her lips on your still red, flushed cheeks.

What's going on here?" Perplexed, Fuegeoleon looks back and forth between you and his sister. "I thought (Y/N) was going to complain that Mereoleona's training methods are far too hard for her." He pauses for a moment to look at you. "And now this? This passionate kiss." The blush crept up his face more and more. He shook his head in disbelief and slowly but surely put his hands to his face. He couldn't and didn't want to see you and Mereoleona exchanging caresses. The gentle banter and the unusually soft side of his usually brutal sister was too much for him.

As a red rinse slowly finds its way out of Fuegoleon's nostrils and the flush gives way to a ghostly white, all life is slowly drained from the young leader.

[zer0brainc3lls]

Dps yap session about how Todd’s relationship with Neil and Mr Keating (mainly Neil) grew his character because I’ll never stop thinking about it (spoilers for the book)

In the movie we all know Todd has issues with public speaking but in the book, it’s not just public speaking. It’s speaking to almost anyone in general. He stutters and pauses between sentences, even being unable to finish what he’s trying to say.

“I… would…. Prefer…. Rowing….. sir,” - Todd “rowing? Did he say rowing? But here it says you played soccer at Balincrest?” - Mr Nolan “I…. Did…. But….” - Todd

The dots are not exaggerated if you haven’t read the book. That’s how it’s shown. Now he doesn’t speak to everyone like this, mainly if he’s asked about an opinion or something of that nature, despite this he speaks softly almost all the time in the start of the book.

But as time goes on and he becomes closer to the dead poets + Mr Keating he opens up, he may not speak much in meetings and in classes doing anything publicly still scared him but he opens up more nonetheless.

Towards the halfway/end of the book he watches Neil find his own voice through acting, standing up to his father and watching Neil grow confident in himself he too becomes more confident. Even putting a lamp shade over his head just for fun, in front of people, being silly. (The lamp shade part is never talked about omg.)

When Neil is performing he even mouthes the lines to himself, even though he knows Neil needed no help. And at the end of the play TODD starts the standing ovation (I think? He’s definitely one of the first.) with a smile on his face, no embarrassment, no shame. Just happy for his best friend for standing up and finally being himself.

This was never shown in the movies but after the play he reaches out for Neil, trying to tell him how well he did and when Mr Perry’s car drives off he screams Neil’s name. In front of a crowd of people.

After the car scene they go back to the cave, not just the dead poets, Chris is there to (someone Todd barely knows!!!) and you know what Todd does? He expresses his anger. In full.

“Todd suddenly jumped up and pounded the walls with his fists. ‘Next time I see Neil's father I'm gonna smash him. I don't care what happens to me!’ ” after this, HE RECITES A POEM IN FRONT OF ALL HIS FRIENDS, MR KEATING AND CHRIS. (THIS WHOLE CAVE SCENE WAS SUCH A PIVOTAL MOMENT FOR TODDS CHARACTER IM SO MAD THEY FUCKING CUT IT)

Todd gained his own voice watching Neil and the dead poets gain theirs.

Then Neil died.

After Neil died? Todd lost his voice. Almost. He almost went back to stumbling his words, he almost went back to speaking softly. But whenever someone tried to speak ill of Neil or Mr Keating? HE WAS ON THEIR CASE.

“You don’t seriously think his father…” -knox “not with the gun! Damn it even if the bastard didn’t pull the trigger he..” - Todd

“ ‘Who else do you think, dumbo? The administration? Mr. Perry? Keating put us up to all this, didn't he? If it wasn't for him, Neil would be cozied up in his room right now, studying his chemistry and dreaming of being called doctor.’ - Cameron ‘That's not true! Mr. Keating tell Neil what to do. Neil loved acting.’ - Todd

And in the books he took a large punishment instead of signing the note to get Mr Keating fired and of course we cannot forget the desk scene at the end of the movie. Todd may never be the same as when Neil was alive and Mr Keating was still his teacher but he grew a confidence from them, even them no longer being apart of his life could take away the impact they had on him.

Idk if this yap session is a “yeah no shit” kind of thing but thanks for coming to my ted talk yall

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 7

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! reader Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother. A/N : You admit your feelings for Regulus. Also some Regulus POV.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Littered acoss the expanse of the celestial sphere, the burning balls of the stars couldn't have shined as brightly as his eyes, merlin, it was because of Amelia, yes, it was her, not like you had noticed them before, you definitely didn't. Not at all. It sounded like a lie even in your head. You groaned, burying your face into your scarf.

"Are you okay?" you glared up at him, it was his fault, yes, how dare he be who he is. You scoffed retreating back into your scarf, not answering his question.

He pressed his fingers on your forehead, and your face naturally warmed up, "Do you have a fever".

"I'm feeling just a bit warm" your muffled sound barely reached him. He didn't retaliate, "You should visit madam pompfrey".

You lifted your head to meet his concerned eyes, "I'm fine Reg, it'll go away in a while". At least you hoped so. He nodded although not looking much convinced.

Despite the cold night, you could feel the warmth like little electrical waves seeping from him. You scooted closer until your arms were almost brushing, when he made no movement to pull away, staring into the book, you scooted closer.

Regulus stared daggers into the book, latching into the word, not being able to complete reading the sentence. He knew for a fact, that if he moved and you took it as his discomfort, you will move away. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to muster up the courage to ask you to move back.

It was easier in times when you two were with more people to focus elsewhere, to impersonate as was expected of him. But with no one else, just in your presence, the walls he had build are vanished. To say much, you hadn't let him build it since you met.

It would be deceptive to say he hadn't tried, to distance you, to keep you at arm's bay, to be the 'perfect' child he was expected to be. But you tore them as if they were made of dandelions and not the stone of his parent's expectations.

So Regulus didn't move, not until you scooted closer, then he leaned a bit on your shoulder. His eyes relaxed, darting between sentences, and between the mayhem of the entirety of the his world, it felt like a stretch of peace.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked, looking down at his head. He lifted his head, his eyes gazing at yours, "Si seulement nous pouvions obtenir les réponses à toutes les questions que notre cœur désire".

You shuddered, it was startling whenever he spoke French at random times, "What does that mean?". He turned his head, his eyes directly meeting yours, "You can ask whatever you want."

You nodded, not trusting your voice. There were so many things you wanted to ask him, but now that he was looking at you so attentively, as if you're gonna recite the holy words of Merlin himself, you could only whisper, "Do you ever wonder, what is it like" you paused for a moment, taking a breath, "being in love?"

The thing about Regulus he never questioned your weird questions, he had answered them to the best of his knowledge and even embarked with you on a journey to find them. But this he thought was the most pondorous. He leaned back into your shoulder, what was it like being in love. And when he finally answered his voice was not an octave louder than a whisper.

"I would say it's like the feeling when after a storm, the tide finally resides. It's wandering around lost your whole life until you stop cause you have found what you were searching for, until you are no longer lost, until you're home."

Regulus pondered over his own words the next day, he had answered at what he beleived to be his form of it, but the only person he could ever picture coming close to that feeling would be you. You had revolved around in his mind since the first day he had seen you at King cross station waving away at your brother. Maybe he'll tell you one day, one day for sure.

For now, it was enough for him to have you by his side, even just at friends. You were enough, even if you were now chasing after a black cat so you could find his 'twin' as you said.

"And then he was like all screaming and stuff, just because his favourite panda was in the dirt, what a siss" you were loudly interrupted by the scream of the infamous James potter who entered in his dorm.

He pointed at you, "What are you doing here, munching away at my cookies, you monster?".

Sirius snickered behind him, patting his back. You rolled your eyes, going back to the story you were telling Remus and Peter. You may have used some foxy ways to enter here and later when Remus and Peter entered, you decided to distract them with an embarassig story of James.

However James didn't retiliate, he came screeching, snatching the cookie jar from you. You went right back to fighting him for it, grabbing at the jar, "Where's yours"

"It's finished."

"Doesn't mean you can take mine" he snatched it back, holding it close to his chest. "You sneaked into the Gryffindor's common room and then into the boy's dorm, somehow found ours, for cookies"

At your nod, Sirius grinned, "She's perfect to execute pranks". You had already been exempted from being pranked after once you had gotten water thrown on you and James had received an Howler, this time from your Dad.

James shook his head, "No, absolutely not, we don't want anymore trouble than we already have"

"I'm not trouble"

"Yes you are, you always hanging out with snakes"

"Not everyone in Slytherin are snakes" Sure some like Malfoy and Lestrange were but you avoided them like the plauges they were.

"Oh yes, they are" James grumbled finally snatching the jar from him.

"Not to mention you are always hanging out with my brother" Sirius said plopping down on his bed.

"So what?" you glared at him. Sirius stood for a moment, it was truly a lightbulb lighting in his head moment at him.

"You know I remembered something, wanna help me over there" Sirius pointed outside the door.

"Why not" you squinted your eyes following him.

"You like my brother, don't you"

"You have no evidence"

"You're not denying it"

"Don't test me Black, I know your deepest darkest secrets too"

"Oh really, Like what" Sirius snorted. Big mistake.

You smirked, "You're in love with Remus"

Sirius's eyes widened like saucers, "I - uh- Excuse you, I'm dating Marlene"

"Who's dating Dorcas actually, at first I thought she was just cheating on you but now I realise"

"How did you know"

"I have sources" You didn't, while searching for James's bed, you saw one cvered with scrolls of paper. Inbetween the scrolls laid on Sirius's bed you found Remus's name with a red heart drawn upon it.

"Fine" Sirius sighed, "I won't tell if you won't"

"I need something else too"

"What"

"Teach me how you do your eyeliner"

"Oh my God" Sirius whisper yelled.

"What"

"Prongs is gonna be my brother-in-law"

"What the fu-"

You crooned at the new black kitten, it was just impossibly tiny. However Regulus glared daggers at it, "What do you think we should name it?"

"Naming it means you'll get attached to it"

"So what"

"No"

"No what, it's so cute"? you said petting it.

"And i'm not?" Regulus blanched realising he said it out loud.

"You are pretty too, Reg, don't worry"

Regulus dscoffed, "I'm prettier"

You laughed, at Regulus's pout before he too broke into a smile. However, to your obliviousness darkness loomed overhead as a dark lord gained more and more power

French translation : If only we could get the answers to all the questions of our hearts desire.

Taglist : @shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit @girlbooklover555 @godofstory @misacc08 @starchaser-lily @moonywastakenn @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @skepvids @venomsvl

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 3 EPISODE 09 || THE DOLDRUMS ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

The moon rose huge and fast and golden, a great glowing disc that slid upward, out of the water and into the sky like a phoenix rising. The water was dark now, and the dolphins invisible, but I thought somehow that they were still there, keeping pace with the ship on her flight through the dark. It was a scene breathtaking enough even for the sailors, who had seen it a thousand times, to stop and sigh with pleasure at the sight, as the huge orb rose to hang just over the edge of the world, seeming almost near enough to touch. Jamie and I stood close together by the rail, admiring it. It seemed so close that we could make out with ease the dark spots and shadows on its surface.

It seems so close ye could speak to the Man in the Moon,” he said, smiling, and waved a hand in greeting to the dreaming golden face above.

“‘The weeping Pleiads wester / and the moon is under seas,’” I quoted.

“And look, it is, down there, too.” I pointed over the rail, to where the trail of moonlight deepened, glowing in the water as though a twin of the moon itself were sunken there. “When I left,” I said, “men were getting ready to fly to the moon. I wonder whether they’ll make it.” “Do the flying machines go so high, then?” Jamie asked. He squinted at the moon. “I should say it’s a great way, for all it looks so close just now. I read a book by an astronomer—he said it was perhaps three hundred leagues from the earth to the moon. Is he wrong, then, or is it only that the—airplanes, was it?—will fly so far?” “It takes a special kind, called a rocket,” I said. “Actually, it’s a lot farther than that to the moon, and once you get far away from the earth, there’s no air to breathe in space. They’ll have to carry air with them on the voyage, like food and water. They put it in sort of canisters.” “Really?” He gazed up, face full of light and wonder. “What will it look like there, I wonder?” “I know that,” I said. “I’ve seen pictures. It’s rocky, and barren, with no life at all—but very beautiful, with cliffs and mountains and craters—you can see the craters from here; the dark spots.” I nodded toward the smiling moon, then smiled at Jamie myself. “It’s not unlike Scotland—except that it isn’t green.” He laughed, then evidently reminded by the word “pictures,” reached into his coat and drew out the little packet of photographs. He was cautious about them, never taking them out where they might be seen by anyone, even Fergus, but we were alone back here, with little chance of interruption. The moon was bright enough to see Brianna’s face, glowing and mutable, as he thumbed slowly through the pictures. The edges were becoming frayed, I saw.

“Will she walk about on the moon, d’ye think?” he asked softly, pausing at a shot of Bree looking out a window, secretly dreaming, unaware of being photographed. He glanced up again at the orb above us, and I realized that for him, a voyage to the moon seemed very little more difficult or farfetched than the one in which we were engaged. The moon, after all, was only another distant, unknown place. “I don’t know,” I said, smiling a bit. He thumbed through the pictures slowly, absorbed as he always was by the sight of his daughter’s face, so like his own. I watched him quietly, sharing his silent joy at this promise of our immortality.

I thought briefly of that stone in Scotland, engraved with his name, and took comfort from its distance. Whenever our parting might come, chances were it would not be soon. And even when and where it did—Brianna would still be left of us. More of Housman’s lines drifted through my head—Halt by the headstone naming / The heart no longer stirred, / And say the lad that loved you / Was one that kept his word. I drew close to him, feeling the heat of his body through coat and shirt, and rested my head against his arm as he turned slowly through the small stack of photographs.

“She is beautiful,” he murmured, as he did every time he saw the pictures. “And clever, too, did ye not say?”

“Just like her father,” I told him, and felt him chuckle softly.

Cap 43~ VOYAGER

[cupidjyu]

Hello!! I read some of your works and really loved it🥺💗 I wanted to know if the requests were open..if yes can you pls write something on the lines of being stressed about studying and sunwoo helping the reader with revsing🤭

late night studying

sunwoo x reader + request

genre: gentle sunwoo!!!!!!! lap sitting (guys i have an obsession ...), cuddles, kisses, overall very fluffy and cozy! notes: the way i can literally relate with this whole studying stressed thing like ... anyways, that's crazy i posted so much these past few days LSKDFJ i hope you like this, anon!!!!! word count: 0.7k

you yawned, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. your eyes blinked blearily at the screen in front of you. there sitting on the surface, was your computer, brightly displaying the notes you had taken throughout the course. and next to the computer, scattered on the desk, were notebooks and books that you couldn’t even remember the title of. 

your exam was soon but it was hard to focus with how exhausted your body felt. 

you grumbled to yourself, trying to snap out of it.

but that was when you heard the rustle of blankets behind you. you turned around and there he was, sunwoo, your beloved boyfriend, sitting up on the bed. he was dressed in his usual comfy hoodie and sweats, his hair tousled as he was cutely rubbing at his eyes.

he looked sleepy. you glanced at the time; it was 12:59 am, about to hit 1. 

“ah…” you whispered, looking slightly guilty. “did i wake you?”

he didn’t answer. instead, he looked at you worriedly, “why’re you still studying?”

you sighed, shaking your head, “i have to know this stuff for the exam,” you explained. “the grade is important to me.”

he frowned, his puffy lips pulling into the most adorable pout, you almost smiled at the sight. but then you paused when he got up from the bed. 

you looked at him bewildered, “what are you- woo, go back to sleep.”

he didn’t listen, instead, he kneeled down so that he was looking up at you from where you were sitting on the desk chair. he brought a gentle hand to your face and caressed your cheek softly, his eyes concerned and big.

“no, im here to help… always,” he replied, quietly. and so he led you to stand up. you watched, confused, as he sat in the chair. but you had to admit, he looked extremely cuddly at that moment. you really wanted to hug him.

and it seems that he could read your mind because you suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. you froze as he brought you to sit in his lap.

“sunwoo-” you stared back at him with wide eyes.

but he interrupted you before you could get another word in. 

“so where were you?”

you were silent, trying to process the situation. but finally, you pointed at the bottom of the screen in which he peeked over your shoulder to read the words.

“okay,” he said, voice soft and soothing.

and just as he said he would, he helped you. he tested you on each of the points, reading them out slowly enough so that you could comprehend. and whenever you got them right, he would softly pat your head and place a long kiss on your cheek, making you blush. 

“aren’t you smart?”

“stop,” you brought your hand to your face to hide your flustered self. 

he only chuckled at your actions, squeezing tighter. and yes, his other arm, never left your waist, as it stayed wrapped around you and held you securely.

“correct!” another question right.

“i knew that one,” you replied proudly, smiling to yourself.

“cute,” he simply mumbled.

“what?” you looked at him.

“what?” he looked back with wide eyes, his face turning a bright red.

but after a while, suddenly, you started to feel incredibly drowsy. you couldn’t keep your eyes open and your mouth kept opening in a yawn. 

sunwoo noticed as he looked at you with soft eyes, “you studied enough, i believe.”

he kissed your cheek again, slightly shifting so that you were more comfortable in his lap.

“just a few more, okay?” he said. and then he hurriedly went through the last points, trying his best to get you to focus for just a bit more, still whispering small words of reassurance in your ear, making you shiver.

when he finally deemed that studying was enough, he picked you up. you let out a tired noise as you immediately latched onto his body as he carried you over to the bed. your eyes felt heavy and so did your body. but you immediately felt lighter when you felt him climb into the sheets with you.

it was quiet until you heard his deep voice ring through the calm night.

“proud of you.”

you could only hum in response. he left a kiss on your forehead, smiling against your skin as he pulled you close to his chest. you snuggled closer, breathing his usual body wash you loved so much.

“thank you, sunwoo,” you whispered into his hoodie. “love you.”

he giggled, hugging you tighter, “love you too.”

[kimikaami]

hi. fic below the cut :3

AO3 link

f!byleth/seteth || teen+ rating || angst || regency au || period appropriate ignorance irt gender and sexuality

this is a regency AU in which f!Byleth disguises herself as a man to join the army, who then meets Seteth and Flayn when she retires in her late 20s. It's an idea I've had for a long time, but one that I don't love enough to do a longfic for, so I thought I might try and do little scenes here and there whenever I feel like it. This is the first of them :)

“Walk with me?”

Seteth lifts his hands from the pianoforte’s keys, the last notes plink-plonking into the air as Flayn finishes the measure. “Now?” he asks, looking up.

From the couch, Mr. Eisner — Byleth — eyes him over the top of his book, the smallest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “The afternoon is drawing long,” he says, “and I could use some fresh air. What do you say?”

Seteth stares. Byleth holds his gaze, daring him. This is a ritual that he knows by heart, and yet he finds himself stumbling through the first steps every time — wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers is not part of the dance. 

His eyes drop, forfeiting the staring contest to glance at Flayn who now shuffles her sheet music to the next song.

“Go on,” she encourages, flashing him a smile, and Seteth imagines that she can read his mind at this point. He has certainly done enough worrying over her since her kidnapping scare for the both of them. “I will be fine here for a few moments.”

“Are you quite sure? I am happy to play with you a little longer.”

“There is always later, Father.” Her voice is almost gentle. “The sun and exercise will do you good. It is good to be out of the house, as you well know.”

“Quite right, Flayn,” Byleth says, now smiling in earnest. He closes the book and sets it aside. “I expect to be treated to your latest solo when we return. In the meantime however…” he says, standing, “Get your things. I will wait outside.” And without another word, he takes his leave.

“Well?” says Flayn, nudging his shoulder when he does not move. “You heard the gentleman. I have a piece to prepare.”

The jostling knocks something loose in him, leaving his heart in anticipation of something. “Quite right,” he mumbles to Flayn as he rises to follow his friend. “I imagine we will return shortly.” 

Flayn just hums an acknowledgment and pushes him away when he bends to press his face to the crown of her hair, drinking in the warm scent. It’s equal parts a goodbye and an apology. He falls into lies of omission all too quickly these days, and the regret is gone even quicker.

Seteth follows in Byleth’s footsteps.

—

He waits until they are out of sight of the house to move closer to Byleth, their knuckles brushing together as they walk. Looking down at the shorter man, Seteth admires the way his eyelashes settle against his cheek and resists the urge to trace his jaw with his fingertips. 

“The way she cares for you is sweet,” he says.

Seteth blinks, drawn out of his admiration. “Flayn?”

“Mmhm.”

He sighs and frowns. “She took on too much responsibility when her mother died — responsibility that I should have been the one to shoulder.”

“But she is kind and clever, and selfless.”

“All that and more,” he says. “And yet, were it not for you, I would have lost her. I was neglectful for so many years…” Seteth shakes his head. “No child should have to care for their parent the way she cared for me.”

At the gnarled oak that overhangs the path — a familiar landmark —, Byleth takes Seteth’s elbow and pulls him off the road and towards their spot. “Maybe so,” he says, leading, “but you are that much closer for it.” Holding the branches back, Byleth ushes Seteth through a line of bushes into their little grove lying just beyond. “In many ways, I envy you.”

Seteth pauses, waiting for him to make his way through. “The grass is always greener on the other side, I suppose. Your parents…?”

“I never knew my mother. My father died when I was young.”

“I am… sorry,” he replies, not quite knowing what to say. “I cannot imagine.”

“No, I should not have brought it up. I let my jealousy get the better of me,” he says, and in this moment, Byleth looks so profoundly lonely that his heart nearly breaks for the young man. 

Even after months spent escaping into gardens and secret groves to be with one another in peace, he still knows so little about his friend’s background. Seteth takes a step, trailing his fingers along Byleth’s sleeve. “Do not apologize.”

“Sometimes I think that no one knows me at all.”

Furrowing his brow in thought, Seteth looks down at him. Tipping his chin up so he has nowhere to look but at him, he ghosts his lips across Byleth’s, just as he had done to him for the first time months ago. It’s the kind of kiss that asks permission — feather-light, a sign that he cares. “I have ears to listen, my friend,” he says.

Byleth’s eyes shine, watery. “There are things about me, about my past,” he says, hands braced on Seteth’s chest to keep him upright, “that I have deliberately kept from you.”

The seriousness in his gaze is enough to make his breath catch, enraptured. “Please,” he almost pleads, heart in his throat with anticipation. Seteth had followed Byleth here with the promise of time spent enjoying one another’s company, but the prospect of getting to know his companion’s heart more intimately is an alternative that he treasures for its rarity.

On this day, however, it seems he is lucky enough to have his cake and eat it too. Grasping him by the shoulders, Byleth pulls him down and kisses him firmly, and Seteth’s arms reflexively wind around his waist, angling his head to make their position more comfortable.

“Say you trust me,” Byleth says when they part.

“I do. Of course I do,” he promises. Only a year ago, he had been a shadow of himself. To think, one man’s presence could provide him with all this — a desire to see tomorrow. Trust is the least of what he owes him.

Almost hesitantly, Byleth shrugs off his coat and drops it on the grass. The loose white shirt he’s left in compliments his figure, slender shoulders narrowing to a cinched waist that makes Seteth swallow as his heart races, especially as Byleth takes his hand and lays it over his own racing heart. So many times his hands have accidentally wandered here only to be firmly guided away. He relishes the warmth bleeding into his palm, closing his eyes and committing it to memory.

“Seteth, open your eyes,” Byleth says. When he does, Byleth looks into them unflinchingly. “Take it off.”

“Pardon?” he asks, surprised.

“My shirt. Please,” he reiterates. “Trust me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Do it, Seteth, before I lose my courage.”

“Okay. Okay.” Removing his hand from his chest, Seteth takes Byleth’s hands in his and kneels in the grass, pulling the other man along with him and drawing him into another kiss.

Byleth’s entire body shakes under his touch and Seteth backs off, concerned. “There is nothing to fear,” he says, trying his best to be soothing despite his own misgivings. They’re both in uncharted territory here, both fumbling along.

“I know,” Byleth answers, a bit of desperation leaching into his voice. He pulls out his ponytail with a toss of the head, and Seteth has just enough time to register how it softens his features before he is pulling him close once more, teeth clicking, tongue venturing forth. An embarrassing noise makes its way past his lips and into Byleth’s mouth as he plants his hands on his hips, encouraging him to make a move.

It’s enough to spur him onward. Fully giving into his desires, Seteth wastes no time pulling Byleth’s shirt out of his waistband, and then fumbling with the buttons. He starts at the bottom while Byleth starts at the top, and when their hands meet Byleth laughs into his mouth, worry forgotten until he finishes the last bit and pulls the shirt off for good.

What he finds surprises him. A thick layer of bandages, wrapped around his upper torso. His mind searches for some logical explanation. Byleth had told him when they first met that he had been discharged for heart problems, but surely that’s not the reason for all this…?

Reaching behind his back, Byleth fiddles with something, eventually bringing a loose end of the wrapping forth to hand to him. Seteth holds it, blinking.

“Come on,” Byleth encourages. “Finish it.” There’s an unmistakably vulnerable look in his eyes, almost scared, so he does. Back and forth, he passes the bandages around his body until they fall loose.

He leans back on his haunches. “Byleth?”

He can’t believe what he’s seeing. The wiry frame, the slender shoulders, the soft facial features —

“I — my father — he died when I was small. I couldn’t take care of myself,” Byleth says. “But he was an old soldier, and I knew I could pass if I tried —”

He’s only half listening, too shocked to comprehend. His — her? Byleth’s chest lies exposed in the springtime air, angry red marks pressed into her skin from being bound so tightly for so long.

“I never wanted… mislead… sorry…”

All at once, Seteth is confronted with two truths.

The first is that he wants her.

The second is that he has wanted her for months now. There is no real difference between what he feels now, looking at this woman half-naked, and what he has felt gazing at… him… across the room since that very first kiss.

His lungs ache. This is not — has never been proper. No. Some part of his mind must have known all along, must have recognized her as her and had been overcome. It makes too much sense — a sad, old, widower like him just looking for a replacement for what he had lost.

None of this has ever been real, has it? He’s made it all up. All of his emotions, only what he wanted to feel.

“Seteth?” His vision spins as he looks at her, speechless. “Say something, please.”

“This isn’t right,” he says, staggering to his feet before he’s even registered the action. “No — no, this isn’t — I have made a grave mistake. I have violated — I am sorry.”

“‘Violated’?” she asks, incredulous. “Is that what you think? Seteth, I wanted this from the very beginning.”

He swallows. “Put your shirt back on.”

Her face falls, hurt. “You won’t touch me now, because I’m a woman.”

His silence is confirmation enough. “I thought you cared for me.”

Seteth winces. “I did — I do. You are my dearest friend. Now, I don’t… you are a woman, Byleth, and we are unmarried.”

“Can’t you see I don’t care about that?” she protests. “I have lived as a man for nearly the past two decades. If I gave a damn about tradition —”

“I do!” he says. “I care. For the Goddess’ sake, I have warned my daughter against the evils of men who lust after women without any intent to marry, and look what you have made of me! How can I face her now, knowing the depth of my hypocrisy?”

Clamping her jaw shut, Byleth breathes heavily, willing away the tears that are beginning to spill down her cheeks. “All of this, it did not mean anything to you because I was a man.”

Closing his eyes, Seteth crosses his arms. “That is not what I said. But encounters between a man and a woman and two men — they are not the same.”

“They are!” she protests, voice wavering. “For me, they were.” Then, quietly: “I thought I meant something to you.”

“You do,” he answers, arms falling. “But you are incorrect. Things are not the same now, nor will they ever be.” Staring down at her, Seteth opens his mouth to speak, then clamps it shut again. Silently, Byleth wills him to speak. Whatever he’s struggling to articulate, he gives up on and releases a frustrated sigh instead. “I must go,” he says. “Flayn will be waiting for me.” With one final, pensive glance back towards her, he stalks back in the direction they’d come, leaving her in silence.

For a few minutes, Byleth just stares at the spot he’d been standing, mind blank.

Shortly, the shock turns to anger. It is mostly self-directed, but as she forces herself into moving and yanks her undershirt back on, it turns in his direction too. All these secret meetings, they meant nothing to him?

They had meant everything to her.

In an attempt to put him out of mind, her thoughts turn to her father. If only he had not died so young. If only she had gotten a normal childhood, maybe none of this would have happened. They could have been happy from the beginning. No need for secrets.

If there’s one thing Byleth knows, it’s that time spent wishing for a different life is of no use to anyone.

Still, in some instances, there is nothing else to do.

Pulling her knees to her chest, Byleth weeps bitterly until there are no tears left to cry.

[loggiepj]

FORBIDDEN

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Y/N WAS effortlessly sent flying unto the ground, making her curse and grunt in pain.

"Again!" A woman with blonde hair, probably a few years older than Y/n, breathily demanded.

But the teenager Y/n only scoffed before she let out a tired sigh. "Don't you think I've had enough for the day? Okay, you win. You're the strongest of us all. If you aren't, then you wouldn't be my mentor."

The other woman grabbed the back collar of Y/n's tunic as she pulled the latter to her feet. "If you're just going to be a tardy ass, then I think you'd be better off in domestic servant works rather than in the front lines. You're already sixteen, Y/n, for pete's sake."

This made Y/n pull away from her grasp, glaring at her. Although, the eyes she sent towards the woman softened immediately the moment she saw her also tired state. 

They had been training for hours after breakfast. It had always been like this ever since the unexpected attack that happened in the neighboring village days ago. Y/n's parents had urgently resorted to send her under training so she could defend herself in case the need to fight would arise.

But what Y/n didn't expect was to have the lone young knight to be her mentor. Y/n and her friends used to talk about the woman being exiled away from her own kingdom due to her insane methods.

"Nat," Y/n began.

"Don't call me that!" The woman spat, advancing a foot towards the other. Y/n stepped back with hands raised in defense.

"My apologies," Y/n hurriedly added. "Romanoff, I already told you. Strength and hand-to-hand combat are not my thing. I'm never going to be good at this. Father has been training me since I learned how to walk. And to think that I'm still not better than this. Then it's . . . hopeless, okay?"

Romanoff let out a sigh. "Fine, what can you do? Hide underground whenever the enemies are around?"

"Hey, cowardice and being clever are two different things."

"Not in my book."

"I didn't know you write books—"

"Don't get smart on me."

"Although, if you wanted so badly for me to read them, you could have just told me—"

"Don't," Romanoff cut her off, advancing forward, trapping Y/n against the trunk of the tree behind her, "test me."

The close proximity between them made Y/n lose focus on the argument, her eyes drifting towards the lips before her. When her eyes averted to Romanoff's, she found the latter also doing the same. Chest abnormally rose and fell, as if still caught up with training. But for Y/n, it was for a different reason.

"How can you defend the camp, your parents, your own family, if you won't be able to defend yourself?" Romanoff muttered with jaw clenched.

"I'm . . . I'm pretty good at archery."

This softened the mentor's stature.

"I," Y/n softly added, "I'm really good with bows and arrows."

Romanoff then stepped back. "Show me."

A wide grin spread on Y/n's face as she made her way back to her parents' hut, where she retrieved her weapons.

 

Y/N SUDDENLY woke up disoriented and lost, making her look around her surroundings, which was surprisingly crowded at the moment. The others were there with Layla sitting on the side of her bed. The witch squeezed her hand, almost making the human jump.

"Y/n, you're finally awake," Layla gasped happily. The witch's friends rejoiced behind her, as if they had witnessed the reunion of two lovers. 

Layla's presence overwhelmed the normie, the small headache in the latter's head slowly turning into a migraine. Thankfully, Pepper noticed this, making her shoo Layla and her friends out the tent.

Once alone, Y/n managed to a sit as she asked, "How long was I out?"

"Two days," Pepper replied, handing Y/n a glass of water. Y/n took a small sip before her hand instinctively went to wrap around her side.

"Does it hurt?"

Y/n shook her head, pulling her tunic up to see the bandaged area. "It just feels weird . . . I swore I could have died."

There was a short pause after that, making Y/n remember about what happened. But before she could put much thought into it and ask how Pepper managed to heal her, Pepper abruptly broke the silence.

"I bet you must be hungry. I'll head to Bruce's kitchen to request for a meal."

"Thank you," Y/n said, her eyes then taking in the flowers on her bedside table. "What are all these flowers for?"

Pepper softly chuckled. The innocent and oblivious look on the human's face was too fun to look at. "You've got a lot of admirers, Y/n. Especially, one certain witch—"

"Oh, Layla and I are not a thing, I promise," Y/n interjected.

"I'm talking about Wanda," Pepper said, smiling.

Y/n's brow furrowed in confusion. "What about her?"

The nurse shrugged her shoulders. "She visits you a lot. I just thought you're someone special to her."

Pepper left the human with a lot of questions. Y/n couldn't help the butterflies fluttering in her stomach and the redness from her cheeks from growing. Did Wanda really do that?

She shook her head. Of course not. Y/n must have slept too long, for she might still be dreaming.

 

DAYS AGO, Wanda hadn't left Y/n's side once visitors were finally allowed inside the nurse's infirmary. Although, she had done it so discreetly that others apart from Pepper couldn't even tell.

Pepper told her Y/n had lost a lot of blood, so she had no choice but to use one of the healing spells found in Grimoire, an old book of black magic. 

Y/n's wound was still there, stitched closed, soon to become a scar to remind the human of the good deeds she had done in her life, to remind Wanda of how she had completely misunderstood humans.

Wanda's parents used to teach her and Pietro about all the spells, including the ones she had unintentionally read from the book hidden by her father in their basement. But she had never really put it into practice, not when most of the time, she was just living along witches who just knew how to do it. And she never needed to perform one.

When Pepper first saw Wanda visit Y/n, she didn't make a noise so as not to startle Wanda. Wanda had gotten so worried for Y/n hadn't even stirred for hours straight since yesterday and she wondered if the spell Pepper casted wouldn't help normies at all.

"She's a tough one. Y/n, I mean."

Wanda jumped in surprise, eyes filled with embarrassment from getting caught of being there. Her mind started to think whether she'd had the time to slip out the tent or not.

As if sensing the trouble swimming in the woman's eyes, Pepper added, "It's okay, you don't need to leave. I know you don't trust Avengers that much, but I swear you and your friends are in good hands."

Wanda swallowed a lump in her throat before she calmed down.

"Is Y/n going to be okay?" Wanda asked, her eyes now on Y/n.

Pepper nodded. "She'll probably be awake tomorrow or later than that. The loss of blood really took a toll in her body."

Wanda's hand clung unto the sheets before her, craving to touch the motionless hand just laying inches away.

"I saw you use one of the forbidden healing spells on her. Does it work on humans?" She was worried so she had to ask.

The nurse stiffened before she smiled, understanding where the other witch was coming from, although she was surprised how Wanda had known. "We've been using these spells for a while now, especially when Deviants had become so barbaric. It would be a miracle when no Avenger will be sent to my tent after a mission."

There was a pause after that before Pepper went on.

"Y/n has been doing this since she was a teenager, so you need not worry."

Wanda tensed, remembering what her  brother had said to her. "Since her parents were killed by witches, right?"

Pepper nodded sadly. "I can still remember the first time Y/n and I crossed paths."

Wanda looked at the nurse and listened, her hand stretched before her, the tip of her finger touching Y/n's pinkie finger. How one single small touch could bring so much into her, Wanda had no idea.

"I knew her one time when her parents had adopted stray witches. I was one of them," Pepper continued. "And when I saw Y/n again some time later, she was crying. When I asked what happened, she said that bad people murdered her family. And I can still remember the fear in her eyes. It was tragic to see."

Wanda's guilt had reached to the brim, for Y/n and her fate were no different, making her realize that the world was not divided by witches and humans after all, but of good people and the bad ones.

Another patient groaned on the other side of the tent, making Pepper excuse herself to attend. Then it was just Wanda and Y/n alone.

Wanda couldn't help but stare at Y/n's resting features though, how she looked so calm, quiet and beautiful, her skin looking so soft and inviting, urging her to touch the human's hand.

Beautiful?

Did Wanda really just think Y/n's beautiful?

Wanda shook her head, shaking herself from the silly thoughts. She was just guilty of what she had said to the human, nothing else.

Her shaking fingers slowly reached out to Y/n, until she could wrap them around the human's soft hand and relax from the warmth she exuded.

"I'm so sorry," Wanda murmured, licking her lips nervously. "I didn't mean what I said to you. Please get better."

The witch swore Y/n's fingers twitch from her touch but she could just be imagining it.

 

TWO DAYS have passed before the news about Y/n finally waking up reached to Wanda. Wanda had never found herself rushing to things before, heart thuddering so loud inside her chest on the possibility of seeing Y/n again. 

Just to give her apologies. Just to apologize. Or so Wanda tried to convince herself.

She hurriedly barged outside of her tent, accidentally bumping into someone she had been dreading to avoid in her entire life.

"Wanda, I found you. Pietro didn't mention to me that you're here too."

Wanda let out an annoyed sigh as she acknowledged the man before her. "Vision."

Vision surprisingly gave her a hug to which she didn't reciprocate. The female witch couldn't wait to get out from the uncomfortable position.

Vision had become a nuisance in Wanda's life, ever since the former saw the latter while visiting for some stocks in the neighboring town. Vision had then set his eyes on the beautiful damsel, while the lady only saw him as nothing but an arrogant, self-righteous man.

"What are you doing here?" she asked rather harshly. 

Vision didn't seem to notice her tone though. "It's also what I'm going to ask you, Wanda. You cannot trust humans, especially the Avengers. It appears that Pietro is one of them. Don't tell me you are too?"

Wanda raised her eyebrow at him, her arms crossing over her chest. "And what if I am?"

"Come on, Wanda," Vision scoffed, challenging the woman. "I know how you despise humans. Remember what they did to our families, to your parents?"

Wanda shook her head, stepping away from Vision as she headed towards Pepper's tent. Vision followed her.

"The past is the past, Vision," she replied, trying to walk as fast as possible. The man matched her pace.

"So you're willing to forgive them after all?"

"They saved you," Wanda defended. "They saved us."

"What about your parents?" Vision went on. "What would they say to you if they're alive?"

"Vision, stop pestering my sister!"

Pietro came to the rescue. Wanda had never been more grateful.

"I'm just saying I wouldn't want my future wife to be fraternizing with humans, it's just revolting to see," Vision said.

Wanda scoffed in disbelief, stopping in her tracks. "Wife?! Have you gone delusional?"

Pietro only pushed Vision back when the latter attempted to reach for Wanda. 

"You're the reason Y/n got hurt," Pietro started, fists clutching the front of Vision's tunic. "Aren't you thankful enough she saved you?"

Wanda's eyes suddenly turned red, indescribable emotion resurfacing inside her. She had moments like this before but she couldn't seem to remember how to control it. "What did you say?"

Pietro and Vision paused arguing, eyes averted towards the red mist swirling around Wanda's hands.

Pietro hurriedly let Vision go and escorted his sister behind someone's tent to calm down.

"Breathe with me, Wanda," Pietro softly cooed at her, rubbing her shoulders. "Inhale . . . exhale."

Wanda did as her brother had told her.

Eventually, the red in her eyes disappeared. 

"I'm sorry," Wanda apologized, blinking in confusion as if she had just woken up. "I didn't lose control, right?"

Pietro shook his head. "No, Sis, it's okay. You're okay."

The last thing Wanda wanted was to lose control inside the Avengers' camp.

"Come on," Pietro began, bringing her back to her senses. "Y/n's finally awake, let's go visit her."

Forcing a smile, Wanda nodded, trying to bury the worry of what she could have done when she'd lost her control.

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[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Fifteen - Serendipitously

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

“Swin…ging his ax… ab…ove his head… The… col… col…col…” Changbin hesitates in his reading, paused at a single word.

True to your word, the two of you continued lessons on reading and writing whenever you had a chance. He picked up on everything so fast, he hardly needed your help anymore. But every now and then, there would be a word or two that tripped him up.

Sitting at the same corner of the table in his quarters, you look down at the book splayed out on the table.

“Ah,” you say, seeing what word he was stopped on. “Colonel. It is a tricky one and there is absolutely no reason for it to be spelled that way.”

Changbin nods sheepishly and continues on, picking up where he left off. “The Colonel brought it down upon the prisoner’s neck, ex… ex-e-cu-ting swift just…ice– justice in front of his p…eople.”

It’s been three weeks since Miroh’s victory at Fort Mire. Since that time, a larger garrison of troops arrived and Changbin has been sending them out to overtake smaller strongholds along the border of Bewaes, just as Chan told him to. 

Once the army takes over the stronghold, they set up a garrison and camp out there.

Each time a legion has been deployed, you go with them for the battle. But, each time, you return to Fort Mire.

It has become Miroh’s top base and point of contact as new soldiers arrive.

Another attack was scheduled to leave at first light to march out to a camp north west of Fort Mire.

This will be the fourth camp overtaken if all goes well.

Erbus’ troops have been falling easily– too easily.

After the third victory, alarm bells began ringing in your head. It’s not that Miroh was not strong enough to deliver these sort of victories, no. It was that Erbus was not the type of hold to take these losses lying down.

Changin had instructed Jeongin to stay at the second military camp, Bonereach Blockade. He was put in charge of his own small battalion there. You haven’t seen him in almost eleven days.

Since your arrival in Miroh, this has been the longest stretch of time you’ve gone without seeing the squire. Not a day goes by where you don’t miss his boyishly charming self.

“I will see you soon, then.”

You never were good with goodbyes; always found them awkward and sometimes too emotional. You’re a big fan of leaving without saying anything. But, people have expressed in the past how rude that it can be. Oh, well.

Jeongin stares down at you with a sad smile. A long sigh leaves his nose.

You were to make the day-long trek back to Fort Mire by yourself and you were not looking forward to it.

Ever since that first night, the two of you have been attached at the hip. Stealing kisses left and right, spending whatever time you could with one another. 

Not there was much time to do that with all the preparation to be done.

Training had been different, that much is for sure.

“I look forward to it, Y/N.”

You had helped him set up his tent. It was rather grand, you don’t even know if you could just call it a ‘tent’. A full sized bed as well as a desk and a table fit inside.

The commander of a camp gets the master tent.

Earlier, you had teased Jeongin, telling him that perhaps he should invest in laying out a rug. He laughed off your joke and told you not to be jealous.

Just the two of you stood inside, the sun had risen about two hours ago. Really, you need to get going if you want to make it back to Fort Mire by sundown 

He takes steps closer to you until your chests are practically touching, sparkling brown eyes gazing down at you.

“I thank you for giving me your time, mercenary.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “You say that as if I will not do so again.” 

Jeongin chuckles and wraps both of his arms loosely around your waist. Your hands come up and rest on the soft fabric of his tunic, fingers picking at the pills in the cloth.

“I know for certain that I am not the only man pining for your attention, Y/N.” He whispers down to you. 

One of your eyebrows raise and you look at him curiously. Jeongin only shakes his head and dips down to meet your lips in a soft, meaningful kiss. 

Your hands slide up his chest and your arms wind around his neck. 

He pulls away first, kissing each corner of your mouth, your nose, and then your forehead. “Be safe, Y/N. I hope to see you soon.”

Since then you’ve kept yourself busy, helping Changbin around the keep.

Surprisingly, you’ve spent more time with Hyunjin as well. On nights where you find yourself awake in the wee hours of the morning, you’ll wander down to the courtyard and find him reading in front of a fire or practicing a new spell.

The two of you never speak, you just sit in silence with one another, basking in the other’s presence. 

“I never thought about doing an attack like that.” Changbin says to you, bringing your mind back to the present.

“I am sorry, what did you say?”

He’s still looking down at the book on the table. “The character in this book, he swung his ax over his head to create momentum on a downward strike. I never thought about doing that.” He shifts around on his chair, obviously excited.

“See? I told you that there is a plethora of information you can discover by reading books.” You can’t help but smile at him.

“Aye, once again, you were correct.” Changbin looks away from the book and up at you. “I cannot thank you enough for having patience with me, Y/N.”

You reach across the table and place your hand on top of his. “You do not need to thank me, Changbin. It is a pleasure to teach you.”

He flips his hand over on the table; his thick fingers play around with yours absentmindedly. The heat coming off his hand is comfortable and draws your attention. 

Changbin stares at your face for a moment longer before looking back down at the book again.

“What is this word?” He points down at the page.

“Which one?”

You scoot your chair even closer to his and peer down at the pages. Your shoulder brushing against his.

Both of you wore comfortable, easy clothes; tunics and soft pants. It was uncomfortable to wear your armor everywhere. 

Humming, you read where he was pointing at the book. “Try to sound out the letters, this one is not so difficult.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, his fingers coming up to grasp yours playfully. A warm laugh bubbles from your chest.

“I am serious,” you tease. “Attempt it.”

Changbin looks back down at the book, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he scans over the letters. “S… Ser… en… end…” He pauses, “endip… serendip…”

“You are doing so well,” you encourage in a whisper. “Keep going.”

Imperceptibly, he squirms a little at your praise. 

You’re no longer looking down at the book on the table, you’re staring at the side of his head. Changbin’s lips purse in concentration, the grip on your hand tightens and his knee bounces anxiously. 

You squeeze his fingers in fortitude.

“Ser– endip– pit… pit…”

“Remember that ‘t-o-u-s’ makes a ‘ tous’ sound.”

“Serendipi… tous… ly.”

“Now, put it all together.”

“Serendipi…tously. Serendipitously. Serendipitously? Serendipitously!” Changbin shouts excitedly after he’s read the entire word.

Your smile grows impossibly bright and you let out another cheer for him. “Yes! See? Not so hard!”

Changbin squeezes your hand even tighter and pulls it up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of his. The feeling shoots all the way up your arm and through your shoulder.

Goosebumps raise over your flesh and a blush spreads over your cheeks.

He’s too busy celebrating his small victory to notice how much of an effect that kiss had on you. 

“At this rate, I will not need another general to read me the correspondence from Chan.” He smiles back down at the book, a wistful expression on his face.

“Aye, you will.” His dark hair had fallen in front of his eyes. You reach forward and brush his bangs away. The soft strands fall over your fingers.

Changin’s dark brown eyes flicker over to you, they catch the light coming from the candle on the table. 

“Then, you will be able to read the tomes of old warriors where they discuss their preferred battle strategies.” Your fingers drop from his face and down to your lap, but your other hand stays clasped within his own. “And perhaps, you can write down yours for future military commanders to read long after you are gone from this world.”

He grins, suddenly shy, and looks down at his lap. “I never considered the idea of immortalizing my life in that way.”

“That is because you are too humble, Sir Seo.” You squeeze his hand, the blush on his cheeks darkens a bit. “In years to come, people will sing songs of your greatness. Children will play in the streets with their wooden swords and they will fight over who gets to be you in their fantasies.”

“My victories are not so great.”

“Perhaps not yet.” You chuckle, “You have so much life left to live, so many great battles to win. A year ago the story of Seo Changbin would not have been as thick of a book as it is now. And who knows what will become of those pages by this time next year, next month even.”

Finally, his eyes lift from his lap and look into yours. His cheeks are impossibly red and his eyes impossibly sparkly. He gazes at you as if you hung the moon yourself. 

“You flatter me, Y/N.”

“I only speak the truth, Changbin.”

He picks up your hand and holds it with both of his; his fingers playing with yours absentmindedly again. 

“Would you read my tales?”

“Who says I am not going to write some of them?”

He leans closer to you.

“Would you sing my songs?”

“I would lead the revelry in the inn in your honor.”

His laugh is hearty and kind. Once more, he brings your hand up to his lips, but this time, it is much more purposeful. 

Changbin’s eyes stay locked with yours as he presses the kiss to your skin. You beam at him, and deep down you hope that your eyes are sparkling just like his. His pillowy lips are so soft against your skin.

The flame of the candle dances around in the reflection of his pupils.

Three knocks on the door breaks your eye contact with Changbin. Annoyance causes his eyebrow to twitch and he gently drops your hand.

“Come in!” He calls.

A sight for sore eyes walks into the room.

“Jisung! I was not expecting to see you.” Changbin says, standing up from the table and walking over to the man happily.

You rise from your chair as well, smiling at him.

“It is good to see you too, Changbin.”

The two men clasp forearms in a warm greeting. 

“I did not expect to see you anywhere near the front lines.”

“I have actually come to retrieve something for our Jarl.” Jisung explains to Changbin.

“What is it?”

Jisung looks over at you with a sly smile. “I am here for our mercenary.”

Oh, that’s right. You were to return to Miroh in a month after your original departure. 

“Has it been a month already?” you ask. 

“Just about, Chan gets antsy, I am afraid.”

You shift around on your feet. “But the battle in the morning.”

Changbin raises his hand to stop you. “We can manage without you, Y/N.”

You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Perhaps, but your victories will not be as speedy or magnificent.”

Both men laugh at your joke.

“I would like to be on the road soon, Y/N, if that is alright.” Jisung says to you.

Reluctantly, you nod. “Aye, I can have my things collected within the hour.”

“That is perfect, I will meet you out in the courtyard then.”

Jisung nods his head to both of you and leaves through the door, leaving you and Changbin by yourselves in the room.

A deep sigh leaves your lungs and you look down at the book on the table. 

“Do not sigh like that,” Changbin chides, “I am certain you will be back after you are finished with whatever Chan needs from you.” 

“I sure hope that our Jarl allows me to return.”

“He will. I also doubt he will be able to keep you from returning.”

A semi-awkward silence falls over the two of you. You bite your lip anxiously and look around the room, anywhere but at him.

“I will be off then. Best not to keep Jisung waiting.” 

You made to move past him, but a soft call of your name made you pause directly next to him, your shoulders brushing.

Changbin turned and looked at you with a flush crawling up his neck. His eyes tracing over each one of your features with a kind warmth. He looks as though he’s trying to memorize each curve of your face.

“Please be safe, Y/N.”

You grin, “I should be saying that to you, Changbin.”

Looking down at the ground, you let thoughts churn in your mind for a moment before turning and quickly wrapping your arms around his chest.

By The Six, he smells so lovely; so earthy and fresh. Rainwater on freshly blooming flowers. Like you fell asleep in a meadow and woke up with the sun and dew covers all of the lily pads in the pond.

Heat radiates through his tunic and leeches onto your skin.

Changbin emits a small gasp of surprise, but he immediately wraps his arms around you in return. 

For a man who has arms like tree trunks, his embrace is so soft. Your cheek presses to his chest and you can hear the powerful thuds of his heartbeat.

Its drumbeat sends wave after wave of reassurance.

“I do beseech you to look after yourself in the coming battles, Changbin.”

“I will.”

His voice rumbles through his chest and you feel the vibrations against your ear. Tightening your arms around his body, you press your face further into his fresh scent.

He chuckles and rubs one hand up and down your back in a comforting manner. 

“Who would have thought the mercenary would develop a soft spot for her commander?”

You pull away from him slightly and level a blank look at him. “Do not get cocky.”

Changbin pats your back and laughs. “Of course, of course.”

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and take a few steps towards the door. You clear your throat awkwardly and shuffle your weight around.

The commander just stands there, staring at you with that amused smirk on his lips.

“... Do not die.” You say one last time and open the door, shutting it behind you. But, you were still able to hear the hearty laugh that Changbin let out from behind the wood.

----------------------------------------------

“If only Hyunjin came with us, we would not need flint to start a fire.” Jisung complains under his breath. 

He’s crouched down next to you, watching as you strike the flint rocks against one another over the pile of firewood and dry leaves.

“If Hyunjin came with us, perhaps the flints would not have been dropped in the river.” You mumble, hitting the rocks together over and over. 

“I did not do it purposefully!”

“Sure.”

Despite the words on the harsher side, the air around the two of you is anything but. Every time you’ve been around him, Jisung always gives off such a comfortable aura. 

Night had fallen just about two hours ago. You both continued on the road for a bit longer until you decided to set up camp for the night. 

“Wet flint should still spark.”

You sputter at his statement. “That is not true.”

“It is.”

You hold out the flint towards him. “Would you like to prove me wrong, then?”

Jisung looks down at the flint, then back up at you, “... Nay.”

“That is what I thought.” You turn back to the firewood and strike the flints over and over again.

Eventually, the rock will dry enough to spark, but it was only about an hour ago that they were dropped into the water. 

Jisung watches you in silence, his body crouched down, arms wrapped around his shins. His nose twitches every once in a while. 

There was only about three minutes of silence before he spoke up again.

“How have the battles been?” 

“Have you not read the correspondence?”

“I have, but I wanted to hear it in your own words.”

You stop hitting the flints for a moment, keeping your eyes cast downwards. “They have been entirely successful. Victory after victory for Miroh.”

“For someone who has been taking part in these victories, your voice is downtrodden.”

Your brows furrow and you bite your lip, weighing your words carefully. Your fingers readjust their grip on the flints.

“It is not that I doubt Miroh’s skill,” you start. “But I have seen Erbus’ forces before. These victories… They are coming too easily. A voice in my mind is calling for attention, it is saying we are overlooking something, that we are blind to an attack to come.”

Jisung watches you carefully, his boots shuffle in the dirt as he readjusts his crouched stance. 

You continue on. “Erbus has a higher rank of deadly warriors. I have not seen a single one in all the battles we have fought. These soldiers are marked by two triangles interlocked with one another. It is usually branded into their skin. They’re called the Mercy Division. 

“You most likely saw these soldiers the night that you saw soldiers attack those Elves in Erbus. The Mercy Division is typically the group that handles the execution of Elves.”

Jisung looks down at the firewood, his face twisting in distress at the memory.

Swallowing, you pick the flint back up in your hands and strike them against one another even harder.

“Ironic, is it not? The ‘Mercy Division’ causes the most agony and shows none of this so-called ‘mercy’.”

Memories of screams pierce through your brain and your muscles tense. With one particularly rough strike of flint, the sparks fly and land in the brush.

A small fire lights in your campfire.

Both you and Jisung jump to action, blowing air on the small fire to keep it alive. Quickly, it catches and spreads to the logs you placed upon it.

Relief floods through both you and Jisung at the sight.

The two of you stand up and begin shuffling around your tiny campsite. You both set up your bedrolls directly next to the fire to bask in its warmth. You’ve set them up so that when you’re laying down, your heads will be by one another but still both surrounding the fire.

“First light, then?” you ask.

“Aye,” he answers. “Three more days ahead of us after that.”

You nod and scoot down into your bed roll, enveloping yourself in the familiar warmth. You hadn’t slept in this fabric since you shared it with Hyunjin. Heat creeps onto your cheeks at the memory.

Ever since that night, you’ve been able to sleep normally. But still, those few short hours were the most restful you’ve had in years.

Your eyes watch the flames dance around the log, the wood pops and some embers fly around in the air. 

“Y/N?” Jisung calls timidly. You hum in response. “What happened to you in Erbus?”

Your brow furrows, “What do you mean?”

“That day in the throne room,” Jisung’s voice is weak and wistful. “You spoke about the cruelty of Erbus towards Elves in great detail. Plus, you know all about the Mercy Division. What happened to you?”

Neither of you look at one another, you’re both watching the fire. Despite your heads being mere inches from one another.

You were lying on your left side, Jisung on his right. 

You didn’t speak for a long moment, all of the memories died on your tongue and turned your stomach when you thought about them for too long.

“I apologize, you do not need–”

“It is alright.” You whisper. “It is not a pleasant bedtime story, Jisung.”

“I was always more of a fan of scary campfire stories, anyway.”

His small joke manages to sneak a smirk from you.

“Are you certain you would like to know?”

“Aye. Hearing these stories ignites a fire within me.”

You watch the fire for another couple of moments trying to gather your thoughts.

“I had only seen nine winters when it happened,” you begin. “We had lived in a tiny cottage hidden in the woods. It was only a six minute walk to the lake, three if you ran, two if you were late to dinner.”

Jisung hums a laugh.

“It was just my mother, my father, and I in that one room cottage. My mother was a human, my father was a pureblood Elf. We were so happy for those first nine years. I would go into Erbus’ capital all the time for school and to play with other children; my mother would barter and buy our groceries. My father always stayed home.

“Back then, I knew that I was not allowed to talk about my father, but I did not know why, nonetheless I did not speak of him to anyone else. Whenever we went into the city, my mother would make sure my hair was down and covering my ears. She even made me a cloak with a hood that I could keep up over my head during the winter months.”

You wore that cloak everywhere. It was a beautiful dark green color that made you feel as though you could blend in with the trees.

“I am not certain how it happened. I will never know if we were ratted out by someone in the city or if someone somehow spotted my father, but the Mercy Division showed up one night. My father had caught a glimpse of them through the window as they were marching up to the cottage. He grabbed me from the bed, pulled up the floorboards with his own two hands and placed me in the crawl space underneath the house.

“Both him and my mother kissed my cheeks one last time. They told me under no circumstances am I to leave until the next morning. My father told me to close my eyes and cover my ears and do not make any noise, no matter what, do not make a sound. Do not weep, do not gasp, do not scream, nothing.”

Your throat tightens, the words coming out more strained with each passing moment. 

This is the first time you’ve ever talked about this. It’s the first time you were able to. The first time someone’s ever asked. 

“Jisung… I will never forget what happened in my family’s cottage that night.”

He flinches. As if you could feel his sorrow, it wafts over to you. Tears build up in your ducts and your eyes begin to burn.

“The Mercy Division. Five of them came to my door. They kicked it down and grabbed both of my parents. My mother and father screamed, begged, pleaded, prayed for benevolence. My father asked that my mother be let go, she was a human, not an Elf, why does she need to be punished?”

Your stomach does a cartwheel.

“‘A human, eh?’ One soldier said. He grabbed my mother by the hair and threw her onto the ground. Two other soldiers held my father’s arms. They did exactly what they did to the women in that village, Jisung. They all took turns with her, violating her body right in front of my father’s eyes. She sobbed so hard she vomited several times, but it did not deter them until they were all satisfied. ”

The tears finally fell and you bare your teeth, gritting to keep the sobs at bay.

“Once they were done they pulled her apart piece by piece, I can still smell it.”

A sob wracks your body and you curl in on yourself in the bedroll.

“I can hear my father screaming until his vocal chords finally collapsed. Then they had their sick fun torturing my father, cut off his ears and shoved them down his throat. Scalped his head and kept him alive as long as they could to prolong the misery.”

Jisung shuffles around in his bedroll for a moment, but your vision is so blurred from the tears rolling out of your eyes that you don’t focus on it.

“I tried so hard to block out the sound, but hands can only do so much.” This last sentence is whispered. “And I had to keep quiet, swallow each cry and bite down every scream of terror. Some nights I sit and wonder what they would have done to me if my father did not hide me. What would they do to a nine year old girl? My imagination runs wild…”

There’s a sudden presence at your back. You feel the fabric of your bedroll being shifted around and a wave of heat overtake you.

Arms wrap around your waist and bring your body back flush against a strong chest.

More and more sobs wrack your chest, Jisung only holds you tighter.

“Apologies,” you sob. “I do not mean to cry like this, I–”

“Hush,” he whispers into your hair and curls around you like a safety blanket. “It is alright to cry.” He sniffles, letting out a sob of his own.

Just like back in the throne room, Jisung cries for these Elven lives that he did not know.

Your sobs are silent, the physical effects of them are the only sign that you’re crying. Your chest stutters and your breathing is extremely shaky.

Through it all, Jisung stays wrapped around your body, unwavering and delivering silent comfort. 

Eventually, your cries calmed down.

“I stayed awake all night in shock. I do not remember a single moment from when they left to when the sun rose. But when my mind eventually began working once more, they were gone. The only evidence that the events did occur was their blood staining the floorboards.”

One of Jisung’s hands move from around your waist and rest on your arm, rubbing up and down soothingly. 

“I left the cottage and lived on the streets of Erbus’ capital. Begged for gold to eat, and if I could not afford food, I would scavenge the garbage dumps behind the tavern. I think the chef knew what I was doing, some nights full meals would miraculously show up on the cobblestone.”

“And eventually you learned to swing a sword?”

“Aye, there was a fighter’s guild in the city. I would watch them train in the yard for hours. I had a crush on one of the swordsmen.”

You laugh weakly and Jisung does so as well from behind you.

“He was one of the best fighters I have ever seen. Most of the fighting techniques I know now are from watching and mirroring him.”

“What happened to him?”

You hum wistfully. “I am not sure. He left for a job one day and never came back.” You adjust your head on your bedroll. “They held no funeral, so I am not sure if he was killed or simply did not return. But, one day one of his swords was left outside like trash.”

Your head lifts and cranes towards the sword sitting against your pack.

“It is a nice sword,” you laugh and drop your head back to the ground. 

Jisung’s fingers dance along your arm. Then, he wraps it around you once more. His face buries in your neck and his knees tuck behind yours.

Both of your bodies are molded together completely.

This should feel awkward, odd, and completely off-putting. But, it’s not.

Instead, your body sinks backwards and falls into his sincerity. You’ve only been around him a few times, and each time his kind eyes always find yours.

Never once has the man behind you made you feel uncomfortable or lesser than him. Even on the first day he met you in Miroh’s Keep.

When Guatier had insulted your intelligence, Jisung’s eyes sparked with his own annoyance that rivaled your own.

Trust is gained slowly, but for some reason, he has had yours from the beginning. Perhaps that’s why it was so easy to open up to him tonight.

Both of you sit in silence, you feel every inhale and exhale, both from his chest against your back and the small puffs of air fanning out over the nape of your neck.

Another log pops, neither of you flinch.

After a long while, you feel Jisung’s breathing even out, the movements of his chest become shallower and his exhales deeper.

You smile weakly and snuggle backwards towards his warm body.

The bedroll felt empty with only one person, anyway.